Clayton grinned, and Norah’s stomach filled with butterflies. “Wonderful. I’ll get your information after dinner and pick you up at seven.”
“Maybe we could just meet at the restaurant?” She wasn’t ready for him to see her apartment just yet.
He smiled warmly. “Absolutely. See you soon, Norah.”
Norah watched him walk away and couldn’t help but feel as if a new chapter of her life was about to start.
2
Present Day
Pathetic. It was all Harley Andrews could think as he watched the man two tables over. The way he had everyone fooled into thinking he was some kind of charity guru, when in reality he was the cause of over a hundred innocent deaths and missing persons across the nation.
They had been tracking the slippery bastard for over almost two years with no leads whatsoever. No one had even gotten a good look at the guy until recently. He finally slipped up—they always did—and now they had managed to locate him.
Seemed he was the main benefactor for this charity that supposedly helped Seattle’s homeless population. Or so the other donors believed. Harley was not at all bothered by the fact that they honestly believed their money was going to the less fortunate. It disgusted him to see the fa?ade they put on for the public. In his opinion, if you wanted to help someone, there was much better ways than throwing your money at them. You could get your hands dirty and put your money towards materials and food rather than paying ten grand a plate for a dinner.
Ten fucking grand, he thought to himself, and shook his head. He looked down at his plate. These ass hats paid to sit and eat a bacon-wrapped filet with lobster, while those they were supposedly helping lived on garbage and leftovers.
He would love to see what percentage actually went to helping those they claimed to care for. The reality of it was that with the amount of money they paid for these meals and this event, they could have built a new shelter and offered rooms to those who needed them.
The man he was watching now was the biggest counterfeit of them all. Clayton Matthews was in charge of an organization that spanned across the country, taking money and homes from those who could barely scrape by. They would have to come up with hundreds of thousands of dollars of hidden interest on his “loans,” and knowing they would never be able to pay him back for his “generosity,” he would force them to complete revolting acts that oftentimes consisted of his dirty work.
When they inevitably couldn’t or wouldn’t do as he asked, they would be punished. Harley closed his eyes as the images ran through his mind. So many bodies. He nearly got sick just thinking about it. The only thing that made it bearable was the thought that it was finally going to be over. They were going to take down the monster tonight.
He had done his research, had compiled the evidence he needed, and once he had Matthews in his custody he was going to take everything he had down to the Seattle PD.
The thought made him smile, and he looked back over at Matthews, who was now staring at the door with a less-than-amused look plastered all over his arrogant face. Harley followed his glare and his eyes landed on the most beautiful woman in the room.
* * *
SHE WAS SO late. She knew Clayton was going to be angry and that she would probably pay for it later; she only hoped that he wouldn’t make a scene in the middle of the banquet. He won’t, she assured herself. He wouldn’t want his donors to see him angry. Maybe enough time would pass while they were here that he would forget he was mad at her and they could move on. Often enough they had a good time at these events and left getting along better than ever. Just like it had been at first.
Norah had been kept late at the shelter she regularly volunteered at because a woman had come in with her two children screaming about a man that was after them. She said that they had killed her husband and then turned to them. They had to call the police, and a search of the poor woman’s home had proved she had been telling the truth.
Norah had stayed to comfort her as much as she had stayed to talk to the cops. What that poor woman had to go through, watching her husband be killed and then very nearly losing her life and the lives of her children, made Norah sick to her stomach. What kind of monster was capable of such horror?
Of course this was not the excuse she would relay to Clayton. The thought of her volunteering anywhere made his skin crawl. That kind of hands-on was below him in his book, and that meant that it was below her. Never mind the fact that after her parents had abandoned her she had practically grown up in shelters.
It hadn’t always been this way, she thought to herself. At one point they truly had been in love. She had met Clayton after her twenty-fourth birthday at a local charity event, one that she had worked her butt off to put together. He had been so charming and sophisticated. She had fallen in love almost immediately, and had imagined them making the world a better place through their charity work. They could be a force for good in this world, and that’s what kept her with him through everything.
She looked at her table and saw the look on his face as he rose from his chair to play the doting fiancé. It wasn’t that way anymore, she thought to herself sadly. And she was definitely going to pay for being late.
“You are late, Norah, dear. I trust everything is all right?” He gripped her arm and she winced slightly at the pain from his fingers digging into her exposed flesh. He smiled tightly, doing his best to hide his irritation from the others sitting at the table.
“I know, I’m sorry, Clayton. I got caught up. Hi everyone, it is nice to see you.” She smiled and took her seat next to him. “I hope you like the gown,” she said quietly to him as he took his seat next to her. “I had it made for tonight.” She gave him a hopeful look and watched as his eyes trailed down her curvy body and the gold floor-length gown that covered it.
He dismissed her and shook his head. “We will deal with your tardiness later,” he whispered angrily to her. “Just stay quiet and try not to embarrass me. I swear, Norah, it’s as if you don’t even care anymore. You didn’t even wear your bracelet.”
She looked down at her empty wrist and tried to ignore the pain in her heart at his obvious disapproval. It was true that she had ordered the gown for tonight—she had wanted to look beautiful for him. Norah wanted him to want her, and she seemed to continually fall short. She hadn’t meant to forget the bracelet he had bought for her. She didn’t wear it to the shelters because of how expensive it was, and had been in such a hurry that she had forgotten to grab it from her safe.
She allowed herself the slightest rub on her arm where he had grabbed. It would turn into an easily explainable bruise, and she prayed to God that He would help her get through this night without worse.
3