by Zuri Day
She reached for the small instruction booklet that had come with the cell tracking and listening device. There was really no need for her to read it again. It was straightforward, easy. She’d been shocked and appalled at how the tracker worked, what all it could do, how easy it had been to install and how for over a week she’d had complete access to her brother’s cell phone without him having a clue. For all that time she refused to dial the number, would ignore the buzz on her phone indicating that her brother was either making or receiving a call. After last Friday night’s blowup had been the first time. She’d just arrived home and was sitting in her car, trying to process what had happened and forget the look of confusion on Adam’s face, the questions in his eyes. That’s when the phone had buzzed and she’d picked it up and tapped the key to listen in. Within seconds, Dennis’s voice came through so loud and clear Ryan had held her breath, certain he could hear her, half thinking he could see her, too. Pangs of guilt assailed her for being a lurker but once she heard what was being discussed, she couldn’t hang up.
* * *
“...I’m telling you, Luke, this is serious! I don’t know how much of our conversation he heard.”
“And I’m telling you that you need to chill out.”
Ryan’s jaw dropped. Luke was in on it. Then again, she should have known.
“There’s no chilling out. Pandora is out of the box with cameras rolling!”
Ryan could feel the panic in her brother’s voice.
“But he doesn’t suspect you, man, he trusts you. Didn’t you tell me that you were the only one with the key to the good stuff?”
Ryan eased out of her car and gently closed the door. The instructions had assured her that there was no way she was being detected, that her spying was not noticeable in any way and could not be traced. Didn’t matter. Only sheer force of will kept her from tiptoeing once she’d opened the door.
“No, man,” her brother was saying when she’d refocused on the call from that night. “You’re not hearing me. This stuff is over. The gig is up. That plant is locked down worse than prison. They’re gunning for who jacked up those orders, who switched that meat, and I’m square in their crosshairs. Getting away with this will take a miracle.”
“You owe me too much money to try calling shots. This was the way you came up with to pay me back, so you need to keep making it happen.”
“There’s no way, man, too risky.”
“What about Ryan?”
Ryan gasped and quickly slapped her hand over her mouth.
“What about Ryan?” Dennis repeated back to Luke.
Ryan listened intently. Yeah, what about her?
“Didn’t you say they were dating?” Luke asked.
“Yes, and?”
“Bring her into it. She already knows and according to you won’t say anything about it.”
“No, she’s won’t say anything. She’s got secrets, too.”
“Then she’d be the perfect middleman to drive the product off the property. Since they’re dating, seeing her car would be normal. It’s actually perfect, man. I can’t believe you didn’t think of it.”
Ryan waited, her heart beating out of her chest.
“Ryan would never agree to do it. And I can’t force her.”
Her relief had been palpable. It felt good to know that her brother wouldn’t sell her all the way out. What he said made her decision more painful. But it didn’t change her mind. She’d checked her brother’s texts and as she figured, incriminating conversations had occurred between her brother and Luke, proof of exactly what they’d been doing and possibly even information on where some of the beef had been sold. She’d give Dennis one more chance to tell Adam himself. If he didn’t, she would. So after taking a deep breath she sent Dennis a text, relayed that information and attached a screenshot of one of his damning texts to prove she wasn’t bluffing. Adam needed to know the extent of the damage that had been done to his stock and reputation. The more he knew, the better he could divert a scandal and the potential loss of millions of dollars.
An hour later, Ryan was emotionally exhausted. Dennis had called, as angry as she’d ever heard him, shouting threats about exposing her past and having her cut off from the family. He said everything but what she needed to hear, that he’d speak with Adam. He’d made his decision. She’d made hers—to expose the truth. Doing so may be the end of her family, but she had to do the right thing. She printed out the messages for Adam, then sent a text for them to meet ASAP about something important. She slipped on a pair of jeans, locked her door and had just pulled out of the garage when her cell phone rang. It was Bakersfield Medical.
She tapped the Bluetooth. “Hello?”
“Hi, may I speak to Ryan Washington?”
“This is Ryan.”
“This is Kathy, a nurse at Bakersfield Medical. I’m working with the doctors who will be performing the transplant for your dad.”
“Is something going on with Dad? Is he okay?”
“Your father’s fine. I was rechecking your charts and noticed a trait that is genetic in nature. It won’t impact the procedure. The surgery will go on as scheduled. But the doctor wondered if anyone had ever talked to you two about a specific gene, PCSK9?”
Ryan pulled over and put the car in Park. “What type of gene?”
“PCSK9. It manages the amount of cholesterol in the bloodstream. Those who do not have this gene or have a mutation of it usually experience a lower cholesterol level and therefore are at less risk of heart disease. Total absence of the gene is quite rare, especially in African Americans. The gene is not present in you nor your father—”
“Wait, how can that be? I’m adopted.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line.
“I’m not sure what to tell you,” the nurse finally said. “This trait is passed along genetically, present in either your mother or father. Are you in contact with your birth parents, or do you have their medical records?”
“I need to make a phone call and get back with you.”
Ryan hung up without saying goodbye, thoughts of Adam and what she planned to share forgotten. Her fingers were shaky as she punched another number. When Ida answered, Ryan worked to find her voice.
“Is Joe Washington my birth father?” she managed.
Ida’s hesitation was Ryan’s answer. She walked into the house as though through a fog, having learned the biggest secret of all.
Twenty-One
“Hey, Chris.” Adam stepped fully into Christian’s office. “Do you have a minute?”
“I might.” Christian was engrossed in something on the computer. He didn’t look up. “Depends on what you need.”
“A witness.” That got Christian’s attention. “The detective called me, says he has some information. He’s in my office.”
Christian was up before Adam finished his sentence. “Say no more. Let me close this out.” A few taps on the keyboard, then he walked toward Adam. They left his office. “I’ll be back in a bit,” he told his secretary as they passed by her desk. “Unless it’s an emergency, I’m unavailable.”
Christian gave his brother a comforting pat on the shoulder. “Do you have any idea what you might hear?”
“Not a clue. But he’s been on this for a month and it’s the first time he requested a meeting.”
“Then it must be something significant.”
“I hope so. He’s the top PI in the area and his rates reflect it.”
Christian laughed. “I don’t think he’ll break your piggy bank.”
Adam was appreciative of his brother’s lightheartedness. Hearing from the detective had put a knot in his stomach. It felt more loose already. A look at his vibrating phone caused another smile. It was Ryan with a message about important, incredible news.
What happened last night? I was expecti
ng you. Worried. Calls went to voice mail.
Sorry. Long story, need to tell you in person.
Headed to a meeting. Come by in an hour.
They walked into Adam’s office. A guy of average height and medium build had been looking out the window. He turned when the two men walked in.
“Christian, this is Owen Haynes. Owen, this is my brother, Chris Breedlove.”
They exchanged greetings.
“Let’s sit over here, guys.” Adam motioned toward a sitting area just around the corner of the large L-shaped corner office. Christian took a seat on a gray leather sofa. Owen chose one of two top-grain leather club chairs.
“Are you sure I can’t get anything for you, Owen?”
“No, I’m good.”
“All right, then.” Adam sat on the other end of the couch. “What do you have for me?”
“Do you remember the commercial that asked, ‘Where’s the beef?’” At the confused look on both brothers’ faces, he waved a dismissive hand. “Never mind. Too young. I can’t answer the question of where the beef is, but I just might be onto who took it.”
A slight ripple along the jaw Adam clinched was the only indicator of how tense he felt. His eyes slid to Christian, whose look was one of silent support.
Adam leaned forward. “I’m listening.”
Owen pulled out a cell phone, tapped the face a few times then held it toward Adam.
“Do you recognize this guy?”
Adam took the phone and studied the picture on the screen. “This is out by the back gate.”
Owen nodded. “It’s time-stamped two thirty a.m.”
Adam enlarged the picture, and saw boxes stacked up next to the gate and a man bent over them. A second guy carried a box to the truck, prime Wagyu no doubt. A baggy jumpsuit made it impossible to accurately guess the man’s build and a baseball cap obscured his face.
“Ring any bells?” Owen asked.
“No,” Adam said. “What about the guy by the fence? Did you get any of him?”
“Yes, but his whole face is covered, even the eyes. Swipe the screen. He’s in the next couple pictures.”
Adam’s eyes narrowed as he studied the next few images. The second guy wore a baseball cap, sunglasses and a bandanna over his face. Totally unrecognizable, as Owen had said. And likely the employee who’s stealing.
He scrolled back to the first picture and passed the phone to his brother. “Any idea who this is?”
Christian gazed at the screen for a moment, then shook his head. “I’ve never seen him before.”
“What about the truck?” Owen asked.
“It doesn’t look familiar. Send me those pictures. I’ll have the parking lot cameras checked to see if it’s ever been on the property.”
“Dammit.” Adam held out the cell phone. “I so want to catch whoever this is.”
Owen forwarded the images to Adam, then pocketed the phone and stood. “Don’t worry, there’s a lot more video to study. These pictures are from the first one I downloaded and since one of the faces was fairly clear, I thought it was worth a shot to see if you recognized him. But I’ve got footage from here to the main highway in both directions. Learning who owns that truck and IDing the driver is just a matter of time.”
“I appreciate the hard work,” Adam said, standing up to shake Owen’s hand.
“No problem, buddy. I’ll be in touch.” Owen tipped a well-worn cowboy hat to Christian before putting it on and walked out the door.
Christian placed a hand on Adam’s shoulder. “Hang in there, bro.”
Adam watched his brother exit, then crossed over to his desk. He downloaded the images from Owen and attached them to an email addressed to the head of security. He cc’d Stan, the ranch manager, then returned to the image of the truck with the boxes in the background, thieves in the very act of stealing the Wagyu that his men had so meticulously raised.
He sat back with the calm of a snake just before striking, confidently believing that it wasn’t a matter of if he’d catch these guys, but when. His thoughts turned to Ryan, brightening his mood. After Owen’s visit he could use a dose of her sunshine, and hoped whatever she had to share with him was good news.
* * *
Ryan pulled up to the valet counter, dread piercing the cloak of shock she’d worn since the fight with her brother and then, like a one-two punch, learning that Joe was her birth father. Ida had finally confirmed it. Dennis had texted more threats. Joe had called but Ryan hadn’t answered. There was still too much to process. Plus, this wasn’t a talk to have over the phone. She was headed to Bakersfield to see him in person, with one very important stop to make along the way. Everything about her life would change after that. Dennis would hate her. Adam would be angry. Ida might just kick her out of the clan. Her decision was risky but this was Vegas. Time to take a gamble and let the chips fall where they may.
It was Ryan’s first visit to CANN’s executive offices. Walking off the elevators was like entering another world, all gleaming and polished with the feel of wealth in the air. A deep, rich carpet soaked up any sound that her sandals may have caused as she crossed over to the receptionist desk. The perfectly coiffed woman on the other side made Ryan feel totally inadequate but the smile she offered helped to settle Ryan’s nerves.
After the receptionist phoned Adam, they walked to a set of double doors at the end of a hallway. The receptionist motioned for Ryan to enter the office before quietly shutting the door.
Ryan stepped into what looked like a miniature lobby. “Adam?”
Hearing nothing, she ventured down an L-shaped hallway that opened into a room with a wall of glass, offering a breathtaking view of the strip to the north and the mountains to the west. Adam stood facing the mountains. He turned to her with a smile.
“There you are! I was on the phone. Hello, beautiful.”
“Hey.”
She walked into his outstretched arms and relished the warm embrace that he gave her. He kissed her. She allowed that, too, tried to return the fervor. The attempt was half-hearted. Her mind was too preoccupied.
Adam released her and stepped back. “Is everything okay? Are there problems with your father, with the transplant?”
“No, well, there has been a new development but Dad’s okay. Everything is on course for the surgery to happen as scheduled.”
“Then what’s with the sadness that I detect in your voice?”
Ryan went to the window where Adam had stood. The view he had was picture-perfect. She was about to ruin it.
“Ryan,” he softly coaxed. “What is it?”
“I know who’s been stealing your product,” she said, still taking in the view. Then she turned and faced him. “It’s Dennis.”
“Your brother?” She nodded. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
Ryan watched Adam’s face as he took in this information, saw the light dim from his eyes, the smile disappear from his face.
“Is that what you and Dennis were arguing about the other night at the plant?”
A slight pause and then, “Yes.”
“Really?” Adam folded his arms across his chest. “How long have you known about this? Were you in on it, too?”
Ryan’s shock was genuine, anger replacing fear of what she was disclosing and regret for not doing so sooner.
“How dare you! I come here to prove that my brother is stealing and you accuse me of betraying you? Fine.” Ryan whirled around, then threw over her shoulder, “Get the proof on your own!”
She heard footsteps, then felt a strong hand on her arm.
“I’m sorry,” Adam said. “But you lied to me, Ryan. I don’t know what to believe.”
“I never lied to you!”
“You did. That night when I walked in on you and Dennis arguing, I asked point-blank if either of yo
u had anything you wanted to tell me. You could have shared this then, but you didn’t.”
“I still had no proof. It was my suspicions against his denials. He’s my brother, Adam. I desperately wanted to believe what he told me, that he wasn’t involved with what happened, that there was no fire behind the smoke. Not sharing my suspicions with you felt awful but the thought of accusing Dennis without being sure felt even worse.”
“How long have you suspected him?”
“It started before the holidays, but—”
“The holidays?” Adam crossed over to where she stood by the window. “You’ve listened to my frustrations, rubbed away the kinks from the stress I’ve been under, and all this time knew who was behind it?”
“No! Aren’t you listening? I had suspicions, a gut feeling, but nothing concrete. I questioned Dennis, told him how I felt. He repeatedly denied everything, said I was being paranoid. He even accused me of being jealous and wanting you all to myself.”
Adam’s eyes bore into her like lasers, almost black, the way they became in the throes of passion, now, with an emotion she couldn’t comprehend.
“That night at my practice, when you shared what was happening, all of the suspicions I had flared up again. I became determined to find out the truth. And I did.”
She reached into her purse. “This is what proved to me what Dennis is doing, text messages between him and Luke.”
Adam exploded. “Luke was in on this, too? His so-called best friend was his partner in crime?”
He turned his back without taking the papers. Ryan’s heart dropped. She placed a hand on his shoulder to offer comfort. He flinched, and shook it off.
“I’m sorry,” she said, taking a step back to put space between them. “I don’t blame you for being angry. Maybe I should have said something sooner.”