Sweet Nothings

by Catherine Anderson

  “Oh, Jake,” she whispered, staring down at the alarm key on her palm. “What if they’ve changed the system and I set off the alarm?”

  “Then, Molly mine, we run like hell.”

  She giggled. “A big help you are. Criminals never outrun the cops. They always get caught.”

  “Most criminals don’t have four-wheel-drive trucks with all-terrain tread,” he said jokingly. “I’ll leave them to eat our dust.”

  Gaining courage from the confidence in his voice, Molly took a deep breath and thrust the odd-shaped, tubular key into its niche. She held her breath as she gave it a turn. The little red light on the panel went out. Her shoulders sagged with relief. “Thank you, God.”

  “Amen.” The moment Molly unlocked the door, he opened it. “Hurry, Molly girl. We’re sore thumbs out here.”

  They stepped inside. Darkness enveloped them when he closed and relocked the door behind them. Molly knew her surroundings by memory. They stood in a carpeted hallway. On the right just a few feet away was the coffee lounge. To the left was the janitorial supply room where she’d once caught Rodney banging a girl Friday. The memory no longer hurt. It didn’t even rankle. That rude shock had marked the beginning of her awakening, which had eventually led her into Jake Coulter’s arms.

  “Follow me,” she whispered.

  “Try to lose me,” he said near her ear. “I’m joined to you at the hip.”

  Molly went directly to her dad’s office, waiting until they were inside with the door closed before she flipped on the lights. Memories. They hit her hard and fast, so gruesome and clear they hurt like physical blows. Her dad’s desk, where she’d found him with half his head blown off. The chair that she’d so often occupied as a girl while he worked.

  Jake’s arms came around her from behind. He drew her back against him. “Ah, Molly, honey. Talk to me. Don’t remember alone.”

  Her voice quavered. “I can almost see him. All the blood.” Her body started to shake. “I loved him so much, Jake. He was so good. So wonderful. No one ever had a better dad. I always knew he loved me, no matter what. During the worst times, knowing that was all that held me together. And then, just like that, he was dead, and in such a horrible way.”

  His embrace tightened. It was as if he knew how desperately she needed his strength right then. “I love you that way now, Molly mine. No matter what, and forever.” He lifted his head to scan the room. “Remember past it, Molly. You must have had good times in here.”

  “Oh, yes,” she said softly. Oddly, it wasn’t the joyful memories that rushed to her mind, but those that were bittersweet, the things that had defined her relationship with her dad. Being eleven and heartbroken over not getting the lead part in a play. Developing breasts before all the other girls did and feeling acutely self-conscious. “My dad was always my rock,” she whispered. “Somehow, no matter how upset I was, he could make me laugh, and he always made me feel special.”

  “That’s what you should remember, all those special times. Death is our final scene, not the one that comprises our life. Remember your dad as he was, not the way he ended.”

  A feeling of peace settled over Molly. She hugged all the good memories close and leaned her weight against Jake’s solid chest, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, she felt restored and knew she had the strength to face anything as long as this man was beside her.

  When she said as much, Jake whispered, “You can face anything even without me. You’ve got steel in your spine, Molly. I’ve seen it a hundred times. You don’t need me. You don’t need anyone. If you did, you never would have made it this far.”

  Molly straightened away from him. Dropping her purse onto an upholstered Victorian chair along the wall, she stepped forward. One foot in front of the other. Not allowing herself to think of that morning when she’d found her father’s body, she walked to his desk.

  As she lowered herself onto his chair, tears stung her eyes. This was who she was. From infancy, she’d teethed on investment journals. This was her destiny, what she’d been groomed to do all her life.

  “You look transformed sitting there,” Jake whispered.

  Her gaze clung to his. It pleased her to know that he understood exactly how she felt without her saying a word.

  “Hello, Molly Sterling,” he said softly. His eyes searched hers, delving deep. Then he held out a big, brown hand to her. “I’ve been waiting a hell of a long time to meet you.”

  Molly took his hand. An electrical surge seemed to run from his arm up hers. She slowly smiled. “How do you feel about being a stockbroker’s husband?”

  “Like the luckiest man alive. How do you feel about being a rancher’s wife?”

  Molly took a moment to reply. “Blessed,” she said softly. “I feel so blessed.”

  He grinned and inclined his head at the computer. “Go to work, lady. Get the son of a bitch by the balls.”

  “Can I have them freeze-dried and hang them on our living room wall as a trophy?” she asked as she flipped on the computer.

  “Hell, darlin’, I’ll make you a special display case.”

  She giggled and went to work. The computer was connected to the mainframe, giving her access to all the firm’s files. Jake watched with keen interest over her shoulder as she invaded the firm’s system. “Damn, you’re good at what you do.”

  Molly’s chin came up. A feeling of purpose surged through her. “Damn straight, Mr. Coulter. I was taught by one of the best.”

  For all of Molly’s renewed confidence and sense of purpose, her search of the computer files revealed nothing. “Oh, Jake, there’s nothing here. I can’t find a single thing that looks out of the way.” She logged into her dad’s personal files. Still, nothing. “Now, what?”

  “We take a break and calm down,” he said sagely. “Get all worked up, and you won’t be able to think straight.” He leaned a hip on the edge of the desk and grinned down at her. “How do you feel about sex on a Victorian chair?”

  She giggled. “Not in here. It’s a shrine.”

  He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. Glancing around, he said, “When we move up here six months out of the year, where’ll I grab my afternoon fix if we can’t do it in here?”

  Molly grinned. “Maybe we could partition off one corner and designate it a nonshrine area.”

  “Done.”

  She ran her hands lovingly over her father’s mahogany desk. Just touching it brought back so many memories.

  “When I was growing up, Daddy left me surprises in his secret compartment.”

  “What secret compartment?”

  Molly leaned back in her chair and gave him a challenging look. “The one in his desk. Bet you can’t find it.”

  He crouched beside her to study the desk’s structure. He ran a hand over the left side panel.

  “Nope, not even warm,” she teased.

  He flattened his hand against the opposite panel. “Cold, cold,” she said. “Try north.”

  He reached up, feeling the panel beneath the center drawer. His gaze suddenly sharpened on hers. Then he grinned. The next instant, an invisible drawer beneath the center one popped open. “Voilà!” he said.

  “Every time my dad went away, he’d buy me a little something and hide it in here for me,” she said softly. “I’d come racing in here after school to—” Molly broke off and stared. Inside the drawer lay a computer disk. The hair on her nape prickled. Her skin developed goose bumps. “Oh, my God, Jake.”

  He twisted around. “What?” he said, and then he saw the disk. “Sweet Christ, Molly, I think he left you a final sweet nothing.”

  Molly liked that. A sweet nothing. It reminded her of all the little gifts Jake had left her on the cabin porch. With trembling fingers, she picked up the square of plastic. It gave her the oddest feeling to know her father had touched it last. Possibly right before he died. Her heart kicked in excitement.

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Jake whispered. “Have a l
ook at what’s on it first.”

  She nodded. “You’re right. Daddy said secret panels were a joke because all desks have them. He never hid anything of importance in there.”

  “Maybe he broke that rule just once,” Jake suggested huskily. “If you’re right and Rodney shot him, it could be he didn’t have time to hide it elsewhere. Or maybe he knew you’d be sure to look in there eventually, for old time’s sake if nothing else, and he felt it was a sure way to get information to you.”

  “I thought we weren’t going to get ahead of ourselves.”

  He smiled. “Just look at the damned disk,” he urged, his tone edged with excitement.

  Molly was shaking so hard, she had to take two stabs at inserting the disk into the drive. Telling herself not to get her hopes up, she began viewing the files.

  “Oh, my God, Jake. Oh, my God!”

  “What? It’s all Greek. Talk to me.”

  “He used dummy corporations as a cover to invest heavily in stock, hedging his bets with insider information, which is against the law.”

  “Your father?”

  “No,” Molly whispered. “Daddy would never have done this. It was done under his name, though. Rodney’s machination, I feel sure “

  “That miserable son of a bitch,” Jake said softly. “He couldn’t even make his dirty money without setting up someone else to take the fall.”

  Molly opened another file. Again all she could think to say was, “Oh, my God.” After the first shock wore off, she whispered, “He must have raked in millions, Jake. Millions.” She anxiously opened another file. “Email messages. Oh, dear God, Jake, just look at this. Information from other companies about new products, upcoming mergers, swings in the market.” Molly’s heart caught when she saw that every message had been addressed to Marshal Sterling. “Using insider information like this, Rodney was making a killing, all under dummy corporations and in Daddy’s name so it wouldn’t appear that the gains came to him.”

  As Molly continued to search through the files, her alarm mounted. “It’s all under my father’s name, Jake. If I go to the authorities with this, the blame for it will be pinned on him.” She fell back in the chair and looked at her new husband with sick apprehension. “Rodney did this. I know it. But there’s no way I can prove it.” Her heart twisted in her chest. She glanced back at the computer screen. In a hollow voice, she said, “Maybe my dad killed himself after all. Maybe he was so devastated when he saw this that he decided to take the easy way out, rather than face the scandal.”

  Jake shook his head. “I never had the honor of meeting Marshal Sterling, but I know his daughter. No faint heart who would blow his brains out over a patch of trouble could have raised a woman of your caliber.”

  “Oh, Jake, thank you.”

  He stared hard at the computer display. “Why is it that all these files aren’t on the main network?” he asked. “It’s as if your dad copied them from a separate hard drive or something.”

  A chill zipped down Molly’s spine. “Oh, Jake, I’ve been so upset I wasn’t thinking straight. You’re right. You’re absolutely right.” She jumped up from the chair. “These are records of company transactions, alleged activity in accounts of my father’s. That being the case, they should be on the main system like all his other firm accounts, not hidden away on a disk.”

  Jake stood beside her.

  “My father was worried sick about something for about a week before he died. Maybe he was suspicious of Rodney. The morning of his death, he came in early. He seldom did that, choosing instead to enjoy the mornings with Claudia before she left for the clinic. What if he came in early that day, expressly to get here before Rodney to have a look at his computer? Rodney came to the firm early that morning, too. At least he was supposed to. When I arrived, he still wasn’t here, and I thought it strange. But what if he’d been here already and left?”

  Jake nodded. “Go on. It’s making sense to me so far.”

  Molly was trembling. “Maybe he caught Daddy in his office after he’d copied this information onto a disk and put it in his pocket. Rodney may have been angry and followed him back here. Dad would have sat at his desk while they talked. Maybe he sensed that things were turning lethal, and he slipped the disk into the secret compartment right before Rodney shot him.”

  Molly swung around the desk to go to Rodney’s office, Jake fast on her heels. “Knowing my ex-husband, he’s still investing heavily in stock illegally. Rodney, the gambler. Investing turns his crank. He says it’s a sophisticated way of betting. Only he found a way to swing the odds in his favor.”

  “Let’s just hope we can find some proof to nail the bastard.”

  “He knew Dad had gotten the goods on him,” she cried shrilly as they raced along the corridor. “Don’t you see, Jake? That’s why he was so upset that day when he caught me searching Daddy’s office. He didn’t know where my father had stashed the evidence, and he was terrified I’d find it if I hadn’t already. That’s why he immediately started trying to make me look nuts. He had to cast doubt on my credibility so no matter what I found, I couldn’t have him thrown in prison.”

  After sitting at Rodney’s desk, Molly closed her eyes and reached deep within herself for calm. Justice would be served, she promised herself. Rodney would pay dearly for the lives he’d ruined. She lifted her lashes, focused on Rodney’s computer screen, and determinedly went to work.

  Jake folded his arms on the back of the chair to watch over her shoulder. “Your scenario all figures except for one thing,” he mused aloud. “It doesn’t explain why Rodney needs your signature on something so desperately.”

  “Maybe the answers are here,” Molly said.

  “If he’s made millions, why the hell doesn’t he just take his profits and scat?” Jake asked. “He could go to a foreign country, assume a new identity. If those account records we just saw are any indication, he made some huge profits.”

  “True, but Rodney’s never satisfied. Greed is his middle name. He’ll stay and rake in cash as long as he can. It’s gambling to him. He’s compulsive about it.”

  “If that’s the case, why not just let you remain on the ranch, well out of his way, while he hauls in dough for the next few months? Until the power of attorney expires, he can run this place without any input from you.” Jake growled low in his chest. “I smell a rat. I’m not sure what it is, but this stinks to high heaven.”

  Molly had barely gotten into Rodney’s system before she hit a brick wall. “A bunch of these files are protected.”

  “Go for it. That’s where he’ll hide the good stuff.”

  “I need the password!” Molly cried in frustration. “Oh, God, Jake. Rodney is a genius with computers. The Silicon Valley guru, remember. I’m a babe in the woods by comparison. I’ll never be able to crack a system he protected.”

  Jake laid a hand on her shoulder. Just his touch served to calm her. “Molly Sterling Coulter, you can do anything you set out to do. Didn’t you steal a horse and put your whole life on the line?”

  “Yes,” she said weakly. The memory of that horrific day made her grin. “I did.”

  “Shhh.” Jake’s hand convulsed on her shoulder. “What the frigging hell is that?”

  Molly’s heart leaped at a shrill sound, pealing in the outside corridor. She almost jumped out of the chair, thinking they’d been caught and the alarm was going off. Then she laughed and went limp with relief. “It’s the grandfather clock.”

  Jake listened and chuckled. “Damn. I thought our asses were grass for a second.”

  Molly relaxed and went back to password guessing. She tried everything she could think of—Rodney’s name, his initials, his birth date, his social security number. Nothing gave her access to the protected files.

  “What we need is a little blind luck,” Jake whispered.

  Luck. Rodney was a gambler. Molly typed in the word. It didn’t work. “Well, that wasn’t it.” She thought for a moment. Then a thrill of excitement coursed throu
gh her. Going on a hunch, she typed in Sonora Sunset, the name of the horse Rodney had placed so many bets on.

  “Bingo,” Jake whispered. “That’s it, Molly.”

  “I’m in,” she said joyously. “I’m in, Jake.”

  “Holy Toledo,” Jake said as she began opening files. “Rodney has been a very busy boy.”

  Molly found records of several illegal stock transactions. Then she stumbled upon entries of her ex-husband’s betting at the track. “Now I understand why he whipped poor Sunset. Luck has not been Rodney’s friend. Just look at this, Jake. He’s suffered some very heavy losses, the largest when he last wagered on Sunset and the poor horse lost.”

  Jake whistled at the huge amounts of money Rodney had tossed away. “He’s crazy. No wonder the bastard isn’t lounging on an exotic beach somewhere. He’s been betting at the track like a lord. Is that his present bottom line? How the hell can that be? It looks like he’s damned near broke.”

  It made no sense to Molly, either. All those millions that Rodney had made illegally appeared to be gone. “I guess gambling finally got the upper hand,” she whispered.

  “Blowing money like that makes no sense at all to me.” Jake said. “He has to know he can’t continue with the insider trading forever without being caught. He should be using this window of time to make a killing, and then run when the heat turns up.”

  Molly sadly reviewed the accounting of all Sonora Sunset’s losses at the track. The poor horse. He’d run his heart out for Rodney, but he just hadn’t had what it took to win. He’d been too young, too green. His failures had earned him his owner’s rage. “Oh, Jake, do you think Rodney whipped Sunset every time he lost?” she asked thinly. “It breaks my heart to think of it.”