Josie shrugged. “No clue yet.”
He shook his head, a muscle ticking in his massive jaw. “We have financial records for some of the largest corporations in the country. If any of that information went public—”
“But those are locked away, aren’t they?” Josie frowned. This appeared to be vandalism.
Her boss breathed out. “They got into everything. The vault, the computers… they even took three laptops.” He tilted his head at someone behind her. “Detective.”
Oh, come on. It couldn’t be. Josie pivoted, plastering a smile on her face. “Detective Malloy. How nice to see you.”
The detective raised a bushy eyebrow. “Mrs. Dean.” He gestured toward the small conference room. “You’re the only one I haven’t spoken with yet. Shall we?”
Josie straightened her peach-colored silk suit and followed Malloy into the room. Thank goodness her husband was a master at breaking and entering. He’d retrieved more clothes for her earlier that morning from her home. Maybe it was time to go back home.
Malloy shut the door, waiting until Josie settled into a plush leather chair before he did the same. “Do you know if anything is missing yet?” He flipped open his tattered notebook on the gleaming dark mahogany table.
“No.” Josie studied the cop. He had to be, what? Mid-forties? Today he’d worn another wrinkled brown suit, his tie a striped pink. “I like your tie.”
He glanced up, a faint tinge of color sliding across his pale skin. “Thanks. It was a gift.” Dark circles bagged under his eyes, and Josie fought guilt. The guy was sleep-deprived from chasing Shane. He wouldn’t find Shane.
“Well, the colors are very nice.” She clasped her hands on the table. “So, um, you investigate every crime that comes up?”
“Nope. Just anything related to you right now.” Malloy’s smile lacked charm.
Well, wasn’t that just terrific? “This has nothing to do with Shane.”
“We’ll see about that, won’t we?” Malloy tapped his pen against the notebook.
Yeah, they would see about that. Josie crossed her legs. “My boss said the computers had been hacked and the vault broken open.”
“Yep. Whoever did this was looking for something.” Intelligent brown eyes focused on her face. “Any idea what?”
“No.” Josie shrugged. “We have varied financial information for banks, corporations, nonprofits… you name it. I guess they might’ve been looking for that.”
“I think this has something to do with your husband.”
A chill swept through her. “I don’t see what.” She spoke the truth. The timing sucked, but Shane had nothing to do with her business. Never had.
“I’d like to verify that myself.”
She widened her eyes, going for innocent. Probably looked like a clown. “Shane’s gone, Detective. I assume he went back to his military buddies.” The clock on the credenza ticked a quiet countdown until angry clients showed up demanding answers. She hoped this had nothing to do with Shane. Or with her. “If I could help you, I would. Besides, he didn’t kidnap me. He hasn’t broken any laws.” The smile she flashed trembled on her lips.
“So Major Dean signed the divorce papers?”
Thunder rolled outside. Josie took a deep breath. “No. He didn’t sign. I’ll have to go forward on my own.” But would she? What if they stood a chance this time? Concern had her biting her lip. What if she was making a huge mistake? Her stomach tightened. What if the whole mess did have something to do with Shane? She swallowed several times.
“I see.” The detective pushed back from the thick table and stood. “I’d appreciate it if you contact me once you discover if any files are missing.” Three long strides had his bulky body at the door. “Or if you hear from your husband, of course.”
“Of course.” Josie stood on shaking legs, smoothing her face into a pleasant expression. The ability to do so had helped her navigate the foster care system without many problems. Her mind reeled, searching for answers. This had to be random. But it was an odd coincidence that Shane was in town and things had started to go south.
She’d taken only one step into the hall when Mr. Johnston hailed her. “Josie, Dr. Phillips from Fuller Labs and his colleague are in the large conference room waiting for you.”
Josie nodded, swiveling around and hustling toward the west wall. She entered the conference room, smiling and extending a hand to the fifty-something scientist. He took her hand in a strong grip, his faded green eyes twinkling. “So. You need a new housekeeper.”
Josie laughed, moving to sit at the head of the marble table, her gaze on the woman sitting quietly next to Dr. Phillips. “Hi, I’m Josie Dean.”
“Dr. Madison.” Low and cultured, the tone spoke of Ivy League degrees. She could be anywhere from forty to fifty with flawless porcelain skin, dark hair, and eyes the deepest of blue. Intelligent eyes took Josie’s every measure. “I’m in town from our DC branch.”