He was reading a magazine when the door burst open and Stefanie stalked into the room and threw a clump of papers into his lap.
“Explain this, John!” she demanded, coldly, standing rigid with fury before him.
He looked down at the papers, already knowing what they were. Photocopies of the bank transfers Andrew Wren had shown him earlier. He looked up again. “I don’t know anything about these accounts. They aren’t mine.”
“Your signature is all over them!”
He met her gaze squarely. “Stef, I didn’t steal a penny. That’s not my signature. Those aren’t my accounts. I told the same thing to Andrew Wren when he asked me about it an hour ago. I wouldn’t do anything like this.”
Sloe stared at him silently, searching his face.
“Stef, I wouldn’t.”
All the anger drained away, and she bent down to kiss him. “I know. I told Simon the wane thing. I just wanted to hear you say it.”
She put her hands on his shoulders and ran them down his arms, her tousled black hair falling over her battered face. Then she knelt before him, her eyes lifting to find his. I’m sorry. This hasn’t been a good day.”
You don’t know the half of it, he thought to himself. “I was thinking we might go away for a few days, let things sort themselves out.”
She smiled up at him sadly. ~A few days, a few weeks, a few months, we can take as much time as we want. “We’re out of a job.”
He felt his throat tighten. “What?”
“Simon fired you. When I objected and he wouldn’t change his mind, I quit.” She shrugged.
He shook his head in disbelief. “Why would Simon fire me without giving me a chance to explain?”
“He’s cutting his losses, John. It’s the smart thing to do.” Her dark eyes studied him. “He’s frightened. He’s angry. A lot of bad things are happening all at ante, and he has to do something to contain the damage. If word of this leaks to the mayor’s office or the local press, it’s all over for Simon.”
“So his solution is to fire me?”
“That’s what I asked him.” She brushed her hair aside, her mouth right and angry. Then she stood up and walked across the room and threw herself on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. “There’s nothing back yet on the transfer signatures, and no one he’s talked to at the banks involved remembers anything about who opened the accounts. But when Wren suggested the possibility that you were trying to set Simon up, Simon bought into it. He thinks you’re responsible, and he wants to distance himself from you right now before you become a liability he can’t explain.”
She looked over at him. “There’s more. He claims he came by last night after I left. He claims he found you drunk and irrational, and you threatened him. I told him that wasn’t possible, that you weren’t drinking. I told him you were sick and half asleep when I left you, so maybe he misinterpreted what he heard. He refused to listen.” She exhaled sharply, her bitterness evident. “He fired you, just like that. So I quit, too.”
Ross was staring at the space between them, stunned. First the business of the demon hunting him, then Andrew Wren’s accusations, and now this. He felt as if he was caught in some sort of diabolical whirlpool that was sucking him under where he couldn’t breathe.
“This isn’t like Simon, John.” Stef was saying. “This isn’t like him at all. He hasn’t been the same lately. I don’t know what the problem is, but it’s almost as if he’s someone else completely.”
Ross was thinking the same thing. A glimmer of suspicion had surfaced inside, hot and fierce. It couldn’t be, he was thinking. Not Simon. Not the Wiz.
Stef crossed her long legs and stared doom the length of her body at her feet. “I don’t understand what he’s thinking anymore.”
Ross looked at her. “How did his T V interview go last night?” he asked casually.
She pursed her lips. “It didn’t. He cancelled it. I didn’t even find out until I showed up and no one was there. That’s when I came back here and found you collapsed on the couch. I hauled you off to bed and read my book in the living room until around midnight when I woke you about the fire.”