Free Dangerous Melody by Dana Mentink

creates billing systems, phone and internet, for big companies, only he tacks on a small charge to each bill, a few pennies in some cases. The surplus is routed to his accounts. The amounts are so small that they go undetected, and he makes millions. It’s called salami slicing.”
    “You didn’t go to the police?”
    “I didn’t have proof. Only suspicions and...”
    “And?”
    “And the day after I resigned, he sent me a photo.”
    “Of what?”
    “My brothers and me at a family party, a private party in my father’s backyard. I don’t know how he got the picture.”
    Tate’s mouth tightened. “Guy’s got millions. He can buy whatever he wants.”
    “Not everything.”
    Tate was eyeing her closely. “So this is not just about the violin, is it?”
    “He’s...he’stried to get me back into his life. Everywhere I’ve gone, he’s followed. Made phone calls, sent flowers.” She swallowed. “Once I got home to find my neighbor had moved out suddenly. He was a nice man, a college student who used to bring me vegetables from the farmer’s market.” She looked out the window at the dust blowing along the side of the road. “To say Bittman’s jealous is an understatement.He never liked it when I mentioned you as a matter of fact, back when I was just consulting for him. He said he’d known you weren’t good for me. Made me think he’d been watching me for some time.”
    She’d had her proof later, after she’d left Bittman’s employ. It came in the form of a photo Bittman had sent, a picture of Tate entering a church-run drug counseling clinic. He looked terrible,worn out, cheek bruised by a fall, she’d guessed, eyes bloodshot and miserable. Her heart had broken all over again when she saw that photo.
    Though it hadn’t included a note, Bittman’s message was clear.
    You see? A loser, just like I told you.
    “Did you have feelings for him?” His tone was sharp as glass.
    She bridled. “That’s not your business, Tate, but no. He was strictlyan employer in my mind.”
    “You could have worked anywhere. Why work for him?”
    Why him? Because he was interesting and smart and he distracted me from thinking about the man I really loved, the man who pushed me out of his life. “You don’t get to interrogate me,” she said, voice bitter.
    Tate blew out a breath. “I told you when you first started consulting for him that he was a freak.You’re smart and you’re well connected. How could you ever have let that guy into your life?”
    “Maybe because I don’t like being told what to do. Your sister fell in with Bittman, too, remember?”
    “Different story. My sister has always fallen for the wrong guy. She was impressed with his money, I’m sure, flattered to be hired by him to do his odd jobs. Never bothered to look deeper thanthe car and the fancy house.”
    “Maybe she just wanted someone to listen to her.”
    “I listened.”
    “No, you lectured.” She sighed. “And so did I. I told her everything, but all she knew was that he showed interest in her.”
    His eyes flicked to her face and quickly away. “And I didn’t.”
    She didn’t answer. “Past is passed.” But they both knew that wasn’t true. As much as she wantedto leave their decisions behind, there were two people whose lives were precariously balanced on the shifting pile of past sins.
    Her phone indicated a text from Luca. Got signal. Buckle up.
    They followed Luca toward the blazing horizon.
    Lord, please help us find them.
    Fast.

SEVEN
    T ate pressed down the black feelings in his gut. Anger at Bittman, shame at his own failure toward both Maria and Stephanie and an unaccountable sense of betrayal that Stephanie had delivered herself into Bittman’s world. He knew it didn’t make sense. He’d been so desperate to keep her from knowing the truth of his humiliating addiction that he’d practically shoved her away,buried in his own grief at the death of his father.
    The sound of the most horrible moment of his