Fallen Crest Forever (Fallen Crest Series Book 7)(71)

“Mason.” That first reporter again. “What exactly will be in that article?”

“My father is James Kade,” I told him. “He owns and runs a multimillion dollar company, and he has a lot of off-shoot companies. I interned for him this summer. I was placed on a joint project with a guy named Adam Quinn, Steven Quinn‘s son. My father wanted me to get close to Adam to see if I could find out anything illegal his father was doing.”

I was about to confess to corporate espionage. This was one charge I’d be found guilty of, but I had no choice.

“I didn’t find anything, at first. And I didn’t get close to Adam. I don’t like the guy, never have, but I did go to his family’s cabin, and I found files on a computer there.”

“Were you invited in?”

“What?” I frowned at a different reporter. He had his pen ready and poised against his notepad.

He asked again, “Did you break in?”

“No. It was unlocked.”

“Did anyone mention the cabin to you?”

I wasn’t following his line of questioning. “Yeah.” I overheard it, but I did remember a time Adam brought it up in conversation with me.

“Did they maybe suggest spending time there at one point?”

Did they?

“Did they?” Broozer asked, giving me a meaningful look.

“Uh . . .” I rubbed my throat. “Yeah, I think Becky and Adam both suggested it at one point.” I couldn’t remember.

“So maybe you got confused? Maybe you went there and just wanted to check your email or something?”

He was giving me an alternate storyline. I could only sit there, dumbfounded. I didn’t even know this guy, and he was throwing me a line.

“Uh . . .” I dipped my head back to the microphone. “Maybe. I’d have to ask my lawyers about that.”

A smattering of laughter rippled through the room.

I kept going. I had to. “I found emails that showed he illegally paid off officials for permits. Steven Quinn was also paying one of my father’s employees to harass and threaten my girlfriend at the time. When this was taken to the police, Adam retaliated against me by showing a video to the police where I protected my girlfriend. The video was edited to make it look like I was assaulting a guy. I was picked up by the cops, but I wasn’t officially charged. They held me over the weekend, and during that time, Adam Quinn’s fiancée gave the full video to my girlfriend. It showed that the guy was about to hit her. She took it to the police, and I was released. No charges were brought against me.”

“That’s it? That’s what that article is going to say?”

My throat started to burn. “No. The magazine is going to say that the coaching staff was notified of this incident, and they should’ve done an investigation. They did not do that.”

“You were never charged.”

“What?” We all turned to the first reporter.

He lowered his notepad. “They can’t do an investigation if you were wrongfully picked up by your local police. It seems to me they did the right thing.”

I frowned. What? But . . .

The reporter asked, “Who do you think leaked the information for the article to this magazine?”

“The Quinns.”

“Why?”

“Because they blame me for Steven Quinn’s arrest, and my guess is they’re trying to distract attention from his own case.”

“What facts do you have for this claim against them?”

“Adam Quinn always wanted my girlfriend in high school. I told him to fu—screw off on more than a few occasions.”

A few reporters cracked grins.

“Anything else?” The same reporter looked like he was getting at something, like he already knew.

“The guy the Quinns paid to harass my girlfriend attacked my best friend, my brother, and me with fifteen guys.”

The buzz started to grow. People began getting out phones and texting.

“Any other run-ins?”

“He and ten of his friends attacked me and my girlfriend at an event in Roussou, California.” I paused. This guy did know. He was leading me there. I leaned down again into the microphone. “And Adam Quinn broke into my house here in Cain.”

All the heads snapped back up.

“Can you say that again?”

“Adam Quinn broke into my home two weeks ago. My girlfriend and I were the only ones home. The police came and caught him.”

“Did they arrest him?”

“No. I didn’t press charges.”

“Why not?”

“Because I knew he wouldn’t be honest about why he was really there if I did. After they left, he confessed that he wasn’t there to steal anything. He was looking for my computer because he wanted to load a virus onto it so he could monitor my email, and everything else I had on there.”