Chapter 120 What If?

Noah’s POV:

When I enter Eden’s office to learn that she’s told Martin about the email, I’m pretty surprised. I can’t believe she’d just outright tell him like that. Alone too.

What if he actually was her parents’ killer?

Then what would she have done? Just sit back in her chair while he kills her? She could have waited and we could have done it together. But then she wouldn’t be the super independent woman I know and love.

It’s difficult though because I spend the next hour or so trying to work out exactly how much she has told him. Like does he know that technically he’s a suspect? That someone has accused him of committing the crime?

The first chance I get, when Martin leaves the room briefly to collect some documents from his desk, I close the distance between me and Eden, so I can whisper in her ear.

“How much does he know?” I ask her.

“What do you mean?” she responds, feigning innocence. She knows I’m not happy about this. Unlike her, I don’t trust Martin.

“Eden, you know exactly what I mean.”

“Can’t say that I do, to be honest.” She’s giving me a look, like she’s annoyed with me for bringing this up here and maybe she’s right. But I’m terrified that I’ll put my foot in it and say something to him that I shouldn’t.

“Does he know that the email said he did it?” I ask, my tone slightly louder.

“What?” Martin asks from the doorway.

We both turn to face him, neither one of us saying anything immediately. My mouth gapes. I really hadn’t intended for him to hear that. I can only hope he isn’t the killer and that he isn’t about to slaughter us right here in the office.

“The email that James sent said that it was you that killed Eden’s parents,” I tell him. Might as well be forthright. No point lying, even if he is the murdered. I’m pretty sure he heard what I said clear as day, so I’m only confirming it for him.

“It said what?” Martin’s eyes bulge. He closes the distance between us, striding the length of the office towards Eden but I step in the way. Like I said, she might trust him but I don’t.

“You don’t think I’d actually kill…?” He can’t finish the question as he pulls up short in front of us.

“No. Of course not,” Eden says, giving me a sour look as she pushes me out of the way. “Noah’s just being daft.”

She reaches out for the older man, trying to comfort him.

“No. He’s not. He’s just trying to protect you,” Martin says, eyeing me seriously before nodding his head. He might not like it but at least he understands. “I guess I better give you my alibi.”

“No. That’s really not necessary,” Eden replies but I cut her off.

“I think that would be a good idea.”

“The night your parents died,” Martin begins, taking a seat at the long table, “I remember it clearly because I had plans to meet them. Well, your grandma and I had plans.”

Eden follows him, taking a seat opposite him at the table.

“We were supposed to be celebrating, not that I remember why anymore. Your parents had been away on business. We were supposed to be meeting at the restaurant. Your grandma was with me. We must have waits a solid hour before we began to worry. We just thought their plane was delayed or something.”

He continues on, telling us that he’d received a call from the police and that they’d rushed to the hospital but they were too late, both of Eden’s parents were already dead.

We’re quiet for a few minutes when he finishes his story, no one knowing quite what to say.

“So, James told you that he suspects me?” Martin asks.

“Yes,” I answer begrudgingly.

“That’s funny because he was always our suspect,” Martin laughs coldly. “In amongst your father’s will we found a handwritten note to your grandma.”

He gets to his feet, approaching the desk. He opens a draw that I didn’t even know exists and then returns to us with a small sheet of paper in his hand. He offers it to Eden.

“I don’t know if you will recognise your father’s hand,” he murmurs, “but your father left this for your grandma along with a floppy disk. Those were a thing back then.”

He hands me the disk. It’s weird because I haven’t seen one since I was a kid.

“All the data he collected about the embezzlement was on there. I sent most of it to you when you started working here, Eden. I honestly wanted this company to be healthy and whole when you take it over.”

Eden’s mouth is hanging open and there’s a tear falling down one of her cheeks as she reads her father’s letter.

“The only thing I held back is a list of shell companies that he’d compiled,” Martin is still talking as he offers me a USB drive. “He made a list of the companies that were being used to funnel the money out of the company. I’ve been adding new companies as they pop up.”


Eden’s POV:

The day goes by pretty well. Noah grumbles a lot, mostly about not wanting Holly as his assistant. Martin pops in and out, usually carrying massive piles of documents for me to work through. The day feels relentless and I find myself staring out the window frequently, willing the sun to go down already.

We mostly work through the new information that Martin has given us but I struggle to keep my eyes off the letter my dad wrote. It’s clearly his writing but it’s hurried and there are mistakes that wouldn’t usually be there in his normally perfect scrawl.

He was obviously out of sorts when he wrote it.

The other two are so focused, determined to prove that James Artie is the thief. It’s almost funny watching them together. Less than a couple of hours ago, Noah didn’t trust Martin at all and now they’re working together like they’re best buds.

I feel useless. Even with all the information my father compiled, I can find no way to tie all this to James. He’s not the owner of the shell companies. My father always said you have to follow the money but where the hell am I supposed to follow it to?

Once it leaves the company, I have no way of tracking where it goes…

But what about my parents? I can’t just ignore the fact that they were murdered. As much as I care that money has been stolen from the company, I want their killer to pay. And not just by going to prison for embezzlement. I want him to go to jail for murder.

“Eden?” Noah’s voice breaks into my thoughts.

“Hm?”

“Are you hungry?” he asks softly. “We were thinking of going out for lunch.”

I can’t really say that I am. I feel sick to my gut but I nod my head anyway. Perhaps a change of scenery will do me some good.