by Kathy Harris
There were givers, and there were takers. Caleb had seen both kinds in his business. And he trusted his intuition to know the difference.
In Abernathy, Mississippi, his family and friends held blue-collar jobs. Through the years, a few had migrated to larger cities, just as Caleb had. A few of those had started “to act above their raising,” as his grandmother would have said. But—although they put on airs from time to time, like Danielle Kemp—beneath their insecurities were people who were content to earn an honest day’s wage and who would do anything to help each other.
Anytime Caleb reminisced about home, his thoughts always turned to Jonathan. If his brother had lived, he would be thirty and might have a family of his own. He would be working on the medical degree he’d always said he would earn, and they would have had a doctor in their family. But now . . .
Caleb bowed his head. He had been down this road too many times, and he couldn’t seem to get beyond the if only’s. Life had no do-overs. Only course corrections. Mistakes with fatal consequences can’t be taken back. Life lost is gone forever.
But life that remains can be redeemed.
That was the tenet of Caleb’s faith that kept that him going through the difficult times. He swiped at his eye, his lips curving into an almost smile. If Jonathan were here now, he would never believe his older brother, the one who had always been in trouble for one reason or another, had pursued a law enforcement career. Then again, it was because of Jonathan’s untimely death that Caleb had chosen this path. Only God knew where he’d be otherwise.
Special Agent Ridge settled unto the bench opposite Caleb and brought him back to the moment. “Did you order?” Ridge snatched up a menu.
“No. Waiting on you.”
Ridge arched a brow. “Know what you want?”
“Same thing I always get. Most of the food in this place is too spicy for me.” Caleb held a hand to his stomach.
His boss, who had been born and reared on the East Coast, grinned. “A little bratwurst won’t hurt you. Don’t they raise Southern boys on sausage too?”
Caleb chose a knife and fork from the condiment box on the table and placed the utensils on his napkin. “Smoked and sugar cured.” He assured Ridge. “And we like our potatoes mashed instead of finessed into little pancakes.”
Ridge guffawed, putting his menu aside. “So what do you think about the Kemp woman? What part does she play in this?”
“I think she’s being used by that scumbag, Evans. But . . .” Caleb chose his words carefully. “We need to keep a close watch on her. No one can be trusted in a deal this big. Or this dirty. There’s a lot at stake.”
Ridge eyed him for a second, and then nodded in agreement. He leaned back. “I’m glad you think she needs to be watched. You had me concerned back there. You were playing good cop a little too convincingly.” Ridge signaled for the waiter. “I thought you might be falling for her. Not that she isn’t a looker.” He grinned.
“She’s a looker all right.” Caleb chewed on his lip. If he was right, this conversation was about to go the way he wanted it to go. “But trustworthy is another thing. I’d like to keep close tabs on her. To make certain she doesn’t tip Evans’s hand. And if she does, we need to know about that too. We’re close to breaking this wide open.”
“So you think you should stay on the case?” Ridge lowered his voice as the waiter approached. “I’m not so sure—”
“Why not?” Caleb protested. “No one but the girl knows who I am.” He glanced toward the approaching server and then back to Ridge. “I can use it to my advantage. I just have to play my cards right.”
Ridge’s face lit with understanding, and a slow grin spread across his face. He nodded. “You Southerners and your charm.”
“Are you ready to order, sir?” the waiter asked Ridge.
Caleb leaned back in his seat, knowing he had won.
“Please, let’s sit over here. It’s more private.” Danni led the police officer to a four-top near the wall. She lowered herself into a chair as the man took a seat across the table.
“This is almost too much. Please tell me what happened.”
“We can’t be sure, Ms. Kemp. Not until toxicology comes back. But it appears to have been a drug overdose.” He pulled a notepad from his pocket and laid it on the table. “I need to ask you a few questions about the people Michael Ryan hung out with, his schedule, and his habits. Anything you can tell me may be helpful.”
Danni mentally cycled through her employee roster. “I can’t believe that anyone here would have been a party to this. Or a bad influence.” She gestured around the room. “We have a good bunch of kids here. At least to my knowledge.”
“Did you ever suspect Ryan was involved in drugs?”
“No! Not at all.” She thought back to the last few weeks. She knew personally what drugs could do to someone, and Michael’s behavior didn’t even come close to her mother’s. “He has been a bit reclusive lately. And he was late for work a few days, which isn’t like him. But drugs? I would never suspect that.” She hesitated. “And I’ve seen the toll prescription medicine can take on someone.”
The police officer scribbled a few notes, and Danni turned to Jaycee.
“Officer, my coworker, our chef here at Amoré, knows—” Danni stopped to process that Michael was actually gone. “Jaycee knew Michael and his family from church. Why don’t you talk with her, and I’ll get us some coffee?”
A smile spread across the officer’s face. “Yes, please. Just sugar.”
“You got it. I’ll be right back.”
A few minutes later, as the three of them sipped coffee, Jaycee shared stories about Michael. “I’ve known him for years.” She wiped the corner of her eyes. “I knew he was into some extreme music, but the drug thing? I never would have suspected it.”
“Of course we can’t be certain until reports come back.” The officer placed his empty cup on the table. “But our investigation is leading in that direction. We have a couple of witnesses who admitted to attending the same party last night.”
Jaycee shook her head. “At one time Michael considered going into ministry.”
“Unfortunately, that’s not unusual. A lot of unsuspecting kids, along with their families, find that their world has changed overnight. A few manage for a while to live two lives. One sober and responsible. The other an escape from reality—with narcotics providing a quick fix from their problems. But that quick fix will lure them in, deeper and deeper, until it’s too late.” He closed his notebook. “Many times their families don’t see, or refuse to see, it coming.”
A chill crawled up Danni’s spine.
The officer stood. “Ladies, I appreciate your time and the coffee.” He pulled two business cards from his pocket and handed one to Danni and one to Jaycee. “If you think of anything else, please give me a call. I can assure you that it will be kept confidential. He looked from one to another. “And that we’ll stay on top of this case for Mr. Ryan’s sake.”
“Thank you,” Jaycee whispered.
“Yes, ma’am. Once again, I’m sorry for your loss.”
Danni nodded and extended her hand. “Thank you, sir. We’re happy to help however we can.” She glanced at Jaycee, who appeared to be losing her battle with tears. “For Michael’s sake, as you said.”
The officer returned her handshake with a firm grip. “It’s a shame. The real crime isn’t being committed by these kids.” He looked directly into her eyes. “It’s the people who sell the drugs to them who need to be put away for a long, long time.” He stashed his notepad in his pocket. “We need all the help we can to get that done.”
“We’re here to help, officer.” Jaycee stood.
“Thank you, ma’am.” He returned his hat to his head, turned, and walked away.
The officer’s words hung in the air as they watched him walk toward the door. Finally Jaycee broke the silence. “I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut.”
Danni steadied herself wit
h a hand on the back of her chair, as she silently replayed her day. “I know what you mean, Jay. I know what you mean.”
CHAPTER 13
Caleb had been hoping, praying for a break. And now he had it.
This case meant more to him than any he had worked during his eight-year tenure at the TBI, and he wouldn’t stop until Evans and his cronies were behind bars. All of them.
If that included Danielle Kemp, so be it.
Caleb’s gut told him she wasn’t involved. That she was as much a victim of Robert Evans as the hundreds of kids on the streets and their families whose lives had been ruined because of him.
But Caleb would not be distracted by his feelings.
The dark-haired woman wouldn’t be happy about what he had to do, but tomorrow he would file a warrant to seize and examine Robert Evans’s money-filled briefcase. The one she told them about. It might put her in danger. More danger. But he had to take that chance, while putting the proper precautions in place, and stepping up the security on her condo. They would monitor her every move, and her response could help prove her innocence. Or her guilt.
The concierge waved Danni toward him as soon as she walked into the lobby of the Rutherford. What now? All she wanted was a hot bath and a long run. Or maybe just a bowl of cereal and a good cry.
The young man smiled as Danni approached the desk, which was manned during the day by the concierge and at night by a security guard. Obviously he had no idea how bad her day had been. Or that Michael Ryan’s days had ended.
“Good evening, Ms. Kemp.” He turned to pick something up, producing a huge vase of flowers when he swiveled back around. “These arrived for you today.”
Rob. He always knew how to win back her favor, and he never spared expense. There had to be two—or maybe three—dozen roses in the bouquet.
“May I help you carry these to your place, Ms. Kemp?”
“That’s not necessary, Hunter.” Danni adjusted her handbag and prepared to take the vase from his hands.
“Then let me at least help you to the elevator.” He emerged from behind the desk carrying the flowers. “How has your day been?”
Danni sighed. “You don’t want to know.”
They walked across the lobby to a marble-lined alcove that held a bank of four elevators. The concierge pushed the elevator call button with his free hand. “Anything I can do to help?”
“No thanks, Hunter. But I appreciate your concern.” After she boarded the lift, he handed her the flowers and reached around to punch the seventh-floor button.
“I hope you have a good evening.”
“Thanks. You too.” She braced herself for the elevator’s upward movement. Seven floors later the doors opened. She had barely stepped into the corridor when her phone rang.
Cradling the vase against her body with her left arm, she pulled the phone and her keys from her bag with the other. Walking quickly toward her door, she glanced at the caller ID: Tennessee Bureau.
Danni inserted her key and turned the lock. “This is Danielle.”
“Ms. Kemp, it’s Agent Samuels with the TBI. I apologize if I’m calling at an inconvenient time.”
“No. It’s fine.” She tossed her keys into the teakwood bowl on her entry table, secured her door, and carried the flowers down the hall toward her bedroom.
“How can I help you, Mr. Samuels?”
“Are you home for the evening?”
Was that supposed to be a rhetorical question? Hadn’t he followed her around for weeks? He should know her schedule better than she did.
“Yes. Why do you ask?”
“I would like to send an agent to your home to pick up Mr. Evans’s briefcase. The one you told us about this morning.”
“Oh . . .” She paced across the room and set the flowers on her nightstand.
“Ms. Kemp, let me make this easier for you. That wasn’t a question. I have a warrant.”
Danni lowered herself into a nearby chair. “O . . . kay. When?”
He cleared his throat. “My agent is standing outside your door right now.”
Glancing beyond the flowers reflected in her bathroom mirror, Danni scrubbed makeup from her face. She had relocated the long-stemmed roses to her vanity before letting the TBI agent inside.
Thankfully he came and went without much pomp and circumstance. He showed her the warrant and gave her a receipt for the briefcase. He had also cautioned her not to mention the transaction to Rob, just as Caleb Samuels had requested on the phone.
They didn’t have to worry about that. Not unless Rob asked. In the meantime, she could only hope this misunderstanding—or whatever it was—would be resolved quickly. Rob was mild-mannered under most circumstances, but taking his hard-earned money wouldn’t sit well with him. And why should it? Even if they did have a warrant.
She drummed her fingers on the marble vanity. How did Caleb Samuels manage to get a warrant? Did that mean he had solid evidence?
The exquisite bouquet in her peripheral vision filled her senses with the perfume of rose petals. The flowers were a brilliant shade of orange, the same color as the sunset she had watched a few hours earlier from her window.
With Rob’s help, she had purchased a view of Nashville’s western skyline. Standing seven stories above the concrete and craziness, she could look beyond the day-to-day mundane to the promise of possibilities.
But what were those possibilities?
This evening’s sunset had been one of those especially beautiful ones you wanted to walk into while holding the hand of the man you loved. Was Rob that man?
Danni reread the handwritten note on the card that had been attached to the flowers. It was Rob’s assistant Melissa’s handwriting. She had seen it many times. On birthday cards. Gift tags. And attached to countless vases of flowers. Maybe the words were Rob’s, but the sentiment was always diluted because he wouldn’t take the time to do it himself.
Rob had caught her eye that evening too. She couldn’t believe he would notice her, much less ask her out.
Danni pulled her hair into a loose ponytail. The reasons not to sleep were mounting. For the first time since they had started dating, she dreaded seeing Rob. He had changed his plans and would be home in a few days. He would pull her back into his life again. She would become comfortable, and then he would leave for another week. Or more.
Her soon-to-be fiancé, a man who spent nearly two hundred days a year on the road and kept in touch with her by texts and phone calls, had now managed to put her in the middle of a criminal investigation. Right or wrong. Guilty or innocent. Her worries were no longer about how little she saw Rob—or that he left her out of a big part of his life—but about whether or not he was involved in something that could hurt people. If there was even a chance of that, she could never make a commitment to him. Marriage was forever. Forever. Despite what she had experienced as a child.
And because of what she had experienced as a child, she knew how harmful drugs—legal or illegal—could be when misused. They destroyed lives. And families. Michael Ryan’s family would no longer have him in their present. Or their future. Just as she and Chloe no longer had their mom.
She fingered the diamond pendant around her neck and stared at the roses that had been delivered a few hours before. Would that picture-perfect sunset she had dreamed about ever become a reality?
Dimming the bathroom lights, Danni turned toward the bedroom for what would likely be another sleepless night. Halfway there, her phone rang. It was her sister.
“Hey, baby girl—”
“Danni, I have terrible news.”
“What’s wrong?” Please, God. I can’t deal with anything else.
“Daddy’s had a heart attack. He’s at Midtown in Cedar Rapids. If the doctors can stabilize him, he’ll have surgery tomorrow. You need to come as soon as you can.” Chloe’s words drifted in and out of sobs.
Searching her memory for something, anything, to make sense of her sister’s words, Danni sifted through the em
otions of her childhood. Her dad had always been there for them. He was the strong one. He couldn’t be fighting for his life.
“What happened?” She paced toward the front of the condominium, almost tripping over Sophie.
“He was driving home from work when it hit him. He said he was nauseous, and then he couldn’t breathe. Thank God he turned the truck around when he did. He drove himself to the hospital.” Chloe blubbered. “Doesn’t that sound like Dad? Who else would drive himself to the hospital in the middle of a heart attack?”
“He’s paying the price for working too hard.”
“I know. That’s all he’s ever done. Work hard, so we could have more.” Chloe sniffed.
“What are the doctors saying? Is he going to be okay, Chloe?”
“They don’t know.” Her sister’s voice trembled. “Please, Danni. Come home as soon as you can. I need you. We need you.”
CHAPTER 14
The next day – March 26
Early the following morning Danni left the Rutherford on the way to the Nashville airport. Luggage. Laptop. Dog. She scanned her mental checklist. She had everything she needed for a quick trip to Iowa. The bag and laptop would get her through the next few days, and Jaycee had everything she needed to keep Sophie.
Danni took a right on Murphy Road, and five minutes later pulled into Jaycee’s drive on Colorado Avenue. The small brick home was as warm and inviting as her friend’s generous personality.
“Godspeed.” Jaycee said as she took Sophie’s leash. “I’ll be praying for him—and for you.”
“Thanks, Jay. You know I appreciate it. I’ll give you a call when I know more.” Danni leaned toward the Newfoundland to give her a final pat. “You be good and mind Jaycee.”
The dog responded with sad eyes, taking a step toward her.
“It’ll be okay, girl.” Danni fought back tears. “I hope.”