Bleeding Edge: Elliot Security (Elliot Security Series Book 2) by Evie Mitchell (short story to read .txt) 📗

one of my favourite series. It’s hilarious and action and reminds me of our workplace sometimes. Short and sweet, only a few seasons so far. You may like it.”

Luc laughed as he looked at the cover. “Boobs, guns, and explosions? I’m in.”

“Speaking of explosions. Thanks again for tonight. Sorry you had to get involved.”

His face darkened. “I hope that woman leaves the dick. Shit like that, it pisses me off.”

Warmth pooled in my belly. “Me too.”

“You did good, Emmie. Handled yourself real well.”

The warmth expanded.

You need to tell him.

Tomorrow. I’ll tell him tomorrow. I promised myself.

“Anyways.” I fluttered my hands about, suddenly flustered. “It’s getting late. I’m sure you have places to go, people to see, women to kiss.” The last bit accidentally popped out. I immediately blushed.

Smooth. Real smooth there, Emmie.

A grin stole across his lips, and his brilliant blue eyes darkened just a hint. He leaned in slowly. “No to the first two, maybe to–”

His phone interrupted him. I jumped away, unsuccessfully trying to hide the blush burning up my neck, colouring my cheeks. Swearing, Luc pulled the mobile out and pressed the screen.

“Luc.”

He jerked upright, body shifting to alert.

“You are fucking kidding me.” He paused, listening. “Shit. Who do you need?” His head swung to me. “I’ve got her here.” Another pause. “No, I followed her home after some jerk grabbed her in the bar.” His eyes raked me up and down, and a small smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, she does. Okay. We’ll be there in thirty.” He hit the end button and slipped it back into his pocket. “Declan.”

Declan had the night shift at Elliot Securities.

“That dick Rueben, from Grosford and Sons?”

I had to think for a moment. “The one we’re tracking for embezzlement?”

“That’s him. Grosford just got the call. His money is gone. Declan’s calling us in.”

“Damn!” I headed for my purse. “Goddamn it! I wanted to sleep tonight.”

I moved to grab my keys, but Luc stopped me.

“No time. You ride with me.”

“But–”

“I’ll drop you home. Let’s go.”

Chapter Two

Emmie

“Goddamn, Rueben!” It had quickly become the phrase of the day.

Grosford and Sons was a small company who assisted older Australians with their savings. They looked after people’s financial situation when they got too old and had no family to assist them. Grosford and Sons were known for their honesty and integrity.

Mr Grosford, a man now in his early sixties, had started the company thirty years earlier after watching a close friend of his mother lose her savings. She’d had dementia, and with no family and not wanting to burden her friends with her affairs, she’d trusted a “financial expert.” They’d taken her money and disappeared. Mr Grosford had spent his own money looking after the friend until her death.

During our investigation, I’d found other accounts Mr Grosford had topped up. The accounts were all of people without family, who without his generous support, would be turned out of their care facilities. There were times when working on a case you met some real horrible people. Mr Grosford and his sons were sincere. When I’d reported my findings to Luc, he’d agreed. This case was personal.

Rueben had been an employee for twenty years and skimming money for fifteen. We’d been called in because the idiot had gotten greedy. I’d put a bug on the Grosford accounts. I’d tracked the money to a foreign bank two months ago. We’d known Rueben was planning a big move, but thought he’d have another week. The idiot had gotten wind of our involvement, freaked, and moved early. The bug had done its job, alerting Grosford and us to Rueben’s sudden change of plans.

I’d been up all night, powered by 3:00 a.m. chocolate and copious amounts of soda. It was now after midday, and I’d tracked the bastard to a small airport where he’d attempted to use some of the many millions to buy a one-way ticket to Fiji. God knows where he’d jump off to next if he managed to get there. I hit my headphone. “Luc?”

“Yo.”

“Looks like he’s hiring a private jet at St Paul’s. I’ve contacted the airport. They’re delaying the flight due to ‘mechanical issues.’ Is an hour long enough to get the police involved?”

“We’re on it.” He disconnected the call, and I sat back, rubbing my eyes. In another hour or two, I’d be handing my research over to the police. Fingers crossed, by then the scum-of-the-earth dickwad would be in custody, and eventually these people would get their money back. Job well done.

I headed to the bathroom. I splashed water on my face, glancing at the mirror. It didn’t reflect a pretty picture. By this stage, I’d been awake for close to thirty hours. Greasy limp ash-blond hair, bloodshot eyes circled by angry dark smudges.

I patted my face dry and headed back to my desk. The Nucleus had the second floor to ourselves. There were only eight of us, but we liked space. A physical manifestation of our introversion perhaps? We’d turned our space into a shrine to geek. A Lego town sat under construction in the middle of the room, Nerf guns lined the walls, and a life-sized Dalek took up one of the corners. Posters of various memes with “All the baddies!” or “I can haz cheezburger?” hung on the walls.

While the company was an equal opportunity employer, currently only three women worked at head office - Addie, me, and another woman, Kel, who worked for the investigation side of the business. A slim red-head, Kel made Miranda Kerr look like the plain stepsister.

I stood swaying in the door to my floor. Foam suction-tipped bullets flew as my colleagues ducked under tables, hid behind desks, and barrel-rolled while firing Nerf guns, shouting taunts. I’d normally be up for a match, but right now I wanted sleep. All the sleeps.

I turned and headed for the down room. Located on the fourth floor, the large room was a mish-mash of gym equipment and a lounge area complete with massive