by Becki Willis
He cocked a speculative brow but made no comment. After a few more clicks, he attempted to keep pace with the barrage of question she threw his way.
“This says he is the owner of Roi Ecuries, a world-renowned breeding and training facility for top-quality Thoroughbreds… He is the owner and trainer of L’esprit de Rebecca, who became one of the most famous race horses in France… He is a strong advocate for the humane treatment of animals… No mention of a wife here…”
“That’s him! I know it is!” She bounced in the chair, unable to contain her excitement.
“That’s all I can see, without doing a full-fledged search. Which will cost time and money.” He turned his dark gaze directly upon her. “So tell me why I would want to do that, on this particular man.”
“Because that’s my father, I know it is. Roi means King, right? King was my mother’s last name. And Rebecca’s Spirit? How could that be a coincidence? Rebecca isn’t even French.”
“I suppose I see some logic in that,” he granted.
Taryn pulled out her phone. “What’s your printer’s Wi-Fi code? I need to print some things out.”
“And you struck me as such a meek little thing, that day we met,” he muttered.
“I’m not always so pushy,” she assured him, but there was no apology in her words. “But this is important, and there’s no time for the normal pleasantries.”
The doorbell rang as she accessed the printer via its wireless connection. “Is there time for pizza?” he asked, his tone just a bit sardonic. The papers were already printing as he rounded the desk.
He returned a few minutes later with a hot, steaming, aromatic pizza.
“Don’t mind me,” Taryn said, waving her hand in dismissal. “You go on and eat.”
“Are you kidding? I can hear your stomach growling from here. When was the last time you ate?”
She collected the papers from the print tray with a vague, “I think I had breakfast.”
“Follow me.”
She did so, not thinking to question why. A second door led from the office and into the central hallway, well beyond the large potted plant acting as a detour. A smaller hallway led to a bright and airy kitchen, completely renovated for a modern-day cook.
“Wow, you must have some landlord!” Taryn whistled in appreciation. “We didn’t even have a kitchen this nice at the law firm, and we owned the building.”
“So do I,” Bryce replied dryly. “This is also my home.”
“Really? It’s gorgeous.”
“I like it.”
He opened an overhead cabinet and withdrew two plates. As he gathered napkins and utensils, he nodded toward the refrigerator, “Help yourself to whatever you’d like to drink.”
One look into his refrigerator dispelled any notion that he might be married.
“Let’s see,” she pretended to contemplate. “There’s a choice of bottled water, beer, a half-empty jug of orange juice with something brown floating around on top, what looks like a very flat, fizz-less Coke, and ketchup. What shall it be?”
“I’m working. Water.”
She pulled two from the cavernous space and cracked the seals. Bryce already had the pizza open and the plates laid out in the adjoining breakfast nook. Following the delicious aroma, she slid around the cozy banquette, leaving him the open space to accommodate his long legs.
“So tell me what you’ve discovered.”
“I don’t even know where to begin!”
“You can start with all these papers,” Bryce suggested. He handed her a slice of pizza. “Hope you like pepperoni.”
She held a hand to her face, only half-hiding the fact she spoke around a mouthful of pizza. “I’d better back up and start before that.” She hadn’t realized how ravenous she was, until she took her first bite of spicy goodness, smothered in cheese.
Taking a few bites of his own, Bryce waited for her to swallow.
“When I left here the other day, I went to check into the hotel down the road. They didn’t have any vacancies, but the girl took one look at my eyes and said she knew an entire family with eyes this color!” She paused to let the words sink in. She wasn’t sure if it was for his benefit, or hers; the concept of having family was still so new to her. “Turns out, the family has a room to rent, and I took it.”
He waited for her to continue, his expression expectant. Taryn took another bite of pizza, hastily chewing and swallowing. The sudden dew in her eyes could have been from gobbling down hot food, but he thought not.
“They’re my family, Bryce,” she said, the wonder of it softening her voice. “I have an Aunt Lillian, and at least eight cousins. Ten, if you count Caroline and the baby. I already adore them all, especially sixteen-year-old Susannah.”
“Your aunt has eight children?” he asked in surprise.
“They’re Amish,” she said, as if that explained it. Which it did.
His eyes widened. “Wow. I didn’t see that coming,” he admitted.
“Neither did I.” The edge taken off her hunger, Taryn settled back against the cushions to thoughtfully chew her second slice of pizza. “I know I’m rambling. I know I sound just like Susannah, bursting at the seams with enthusiasm. Girlish enthusiasm. The thing is, I was never like this, even as a girl.” She knew he couldn’t possibly understand. “Sometimes, I think I was born with an old soul,” she admitted.
Bryce released a sigh and stretched out, settling his large body more comfortably into the space. “I know what you mean,” he agreed. His tone said he understood better than she thought.
“This is so new to me,” she continued. “I’ve never had a family before, and suddenly, I have a large, rambunctious family, and they’re Amish, of all things! And I’m just so happy and scared and confused, all at the same time.”
“I get the happy and the confused. But scared?”
Who would have thought this man would be so easy to talk to? He had the look of a seasoned military man. Everything about him screamed discipline. Formality. Protocol. But he had an intriguing voice, so deep and even, so… commanding. It spoke to her. Not just in the literal, but in the guttural sense. It stirred something in her, something sweet and low, and almost forgotten. It had been so long since she was physically attracted to a man, Taryn wasn’t even certain that was what happened now. She thought it was something more meaningful than physical attraction. This man made her feel safe.
She turned toward him a bit, taking a chance on bearing her soul to him, this stranger. But they weren’t quite strangers, not really. There had been a connection between them in those texts, as silly and irrational as that sounded. She chose to ignore all that and continued.
“It’s what I’ve always wanted, what I’ve always dreamed of. And now I’m so close, but not really. It’s like someone hands me an ice cream cone but tells me I’m not allowed to lick it. But if I don’t, it will melt before my eyes.”
The logic didn’t quite make sense to the man watching her, but he understood her dilemma. “You’re afraid of finding your family, only to lose them.”
Her nod was sad. “If my mother is truly dead, I’ve already lost the opportunity to know her. My grandparents are gone, too. One died years ago, the other may as well have. Her body has long outlasted her mind.” Taryn fingered the printed pages, still lying to the side of the pizza. “And if I’m right, I may be biting off more than I’m prepared to chew.”
“Well,” Bryce said, his deep voice both pragmatic and philosophical, at the same time, “you know the best way to eat an elephant.”
The analogy made her blink in surprise. “No. How?”
“One bite at a time.” He inclined his closely shorn head toward the papers. “Wanna tell me what those are?”
“Excerpts from my mother’s journals.”
“So you’re pretty certain about these people being your family.” It wasn’t a question.
“Not a doubt in my mind.”
He pushed the forgotten pizza box aside. “Why
don’t you show me what you have?”
“The life and times of Rebecca King, as told in her own words,” Taryn explained, arranging the papers in chronological order. She had snapped pictures of the most important excerpts, at least as they pertained to the case. To her starving heart, each entry was sacred. “There’s some letters I haven’t read yet, but according to my aunt, they don’t reveal much. Of course, she didn’t realize these journals revealed as much as they did, either. She was surprised to know I could read between the lines and know that my grandmother was addicted to illegal drugs, most likely cocaine.”
“Just to clarify, this was your Amish grandmother, right?”
“Long, sad, sordid story, as you’ll see here. And apparently, my grandfather was caught up in a horse-doping scheme. It all started so innocently, of course, but it blew up into something huge and ugly and dangerous.”
Bryce gave her a tight, sober smile. “You really know how to build up a story.”
“It’s more than a story, Bryce. This is my mother’s legacy, the good and the bad. This is her life.” She handed him the pages, not quite turning them loose. “What I hope it’s not,” she said, drawing a shaky breath, “is a blueprint to her murder.”
Chapter 22
While Bryce read the journal excerpts, Taryn did a search on her phone for Roi Ecuries in Bordeaux, France. When a picture of Ahndray Lamont came up, she could understand why Rebecca had been smitten, all those years ago. Even now, he was a handsome man. Taryn thought she might have the shape of his nose.
It took a moment for her to realize Bryce had finished reading, and that he simply sat beside her, a dazed expression upon his face.
Misreading it, she hastily explained, “This is just a snapshot of the journals, to give you an overall gist of what I’ve found. It’s by no means complete.”
“It’s complete enough.”
Was that a good thing, or not? A bit nervously, she probed, “So, what do you think?”
Instead of answering, he had a query of his own. “One question. Is this for real, or is this an elaborate setup to make me hire you?” There was just enough of a glint in his eye to signal he was joking. It brought to mind his ill-fated joke about phone sex and what she was wearing.
“Why, are you hiring?” she quipped.
“If this is any indication of your investigative skills, maybe I should be.”
She shrugged. “I’m not looking for a job, even though I happen to be freshly unemployed at the moment. And this isn’t a display of any particular skill on my part. It’s more like dumb luck. Or, if you believe in it, fate. Mostly, though, it’s about being the one percent of the population with violet eyes.”
“No matter how you came about it, it was good work. And it definitely paid off. This is some pretty heavy stuff,” Bryce acknowledged.
“It’s crazy, isn’t it? I came looking for my roots, and I find this.” She spread her hands to encompass the enormity of it all.
“Taryn.” She heard the cautionary tone, even before she heard what he had to say. “Right now, all we have is a young woman’s diary and her rendition of events, as she saw them. We have no proof. We have no way to prove this happened the way she wrote it.”
She bristled immediately. “But it had to! Why else would she have been so frightened at the hospital? She was scared to death the Toad would find her! That’s why she left in the middle of the night, and why she used an assumed name. You didn’t read the whole journals. The heartache was real. She couldn’t have made it all up!”
“Slow down, tiger,” Bryce said calmly. He placed his hands over hers, as if to gentle her. “I never said she fabricated any of this. I said we have no proof. We don’t even know who the Toad is. With no name, and no specifics, all we have right now is speculation.”
“Then let’s find it. Let’s find the proof.”
“And we will. But we have to go about this the right way. We can’t just blow in and start asking a bunch of questions.” His dark eyes probed her face. “You have to know how dangerous this could be.”
Pushing her impatience aside, Taryn knew he was right. She acknowledged the wisdom of his approach with a solemn nod. “I realized that, the moment I read the journals.”
“The Toad was obviously a rich and powerful man. The whole doping and horse racing scenario reeks of organized crime. He could be part of a drug syndicate. We have no idea who we’re dealing with, who the Toad is, or if he’s even still alive. But if we stir up too much fuss, someone’s going to get wind of it.”
Bryce curled his fingers over hers, forming the long, tapered digits into a perfect cocoon of warmth and protection. While the tone was gentle, she heard the ominous warning in his words. “If this man killed your mother to keep her quiet, he won’t think twice about doing it again.”
Her sigh was so deep, it could have been pulled from the soles of her feet. “I know.”
They sat in silence for a moment, contemplating the dangers ahead.
“I suppose we should make a contract of some kind,” she finally said. “I want it on paper, before you decide this is too risky and back out on me.” She was only half-joking.
“I’ll tell my secretary.”
“Oh, you have a secretary?” she asked in surprise. She hadn’t seen another desk. She wondered where she worked.
He tapped his chest. “You’re looking at her.”
“In that case, maybe I really will apply for a job here,” Taryn teased back.
Keeping the conversation light, he eyed her in speculation. “So was your grandfather really Manuel King?”
“Honestly? I have no idea what his given name was. I didn’t think to ask Lillian.”
“If it is, he was known as having the best horses in the county. He built quite a legacy for himself. People still come from miles around, to buy a genuine King horse.”
A frown dipped the corners of her mouth. “If his horses were so good to begin with, why the need to dope them?”
“Because for some people, people like the Toad, good is never good enough. They can’t be happy unless they’re pushing for more. And they’ll get it any way they can.”
Taryn turned to face him on the bench. “I know this may be a reach, but I’d like to run an idea by you. What if… What if my mother is still alive?”
“Taryn—”
“Just hear me out. My grandfather gave her money. He stressed how important it was for her to go away, for her own safety. What if she gave me up to keep me safe, but somehow made it to France? Maybe she’s living her happily ever after with my father, away from the toad man and the dangers of knowing too much.” She turned hopeful violet eyes to his. “It’s possible, don’t you think?”
Bryce hesitated for a long moment, before being honest with her. “Possible, I suppose. But not probable.”
Her sigh bordered on defeat. “I know. But I think I would like to find out for certain, before I just assume she’s dead.”
To her surprise, he agreed.
“But how do we go about it? If she’s in hiding, she won’t be using her real name.”
“We wouldn’t want to put her at risk,” Bryce acknowledged. “I suppose we could quietly check into Ahndray’s private life. Find out if he has a wife, or a girlfriend. You don’t by chance know anyone with connections to Bordeaux, do you?”
Taryn recalled a case they had handled at the law firm.
“Just one person, but I certainly wouldn’t ask him.”
“Same here. I know a man who has dealings there, but he’s not the sort of guy I’d ask for help. He likes to have people beholden to him, so that he can use it to his advantage.”
“Sounds like The Toad,” Taryn smirked.
A thoughtful expression crossed Bryce’s face. “I know another guy,” he said. “An old Navy buddy. He has a summerhouse in the south of France, not far from Bordeaux. Maybe I could call him, get him to make a few discreet inquiries.”
A wistful yearning moved into Taryn’s eyes, t
urning their color a dark purple. “I know it’s not likely, but I wish she were still alive. Even if I never have the chance to meet, I’d just like to know she lived, and that she had a good life.”
Because there was no good response to her unrealistic sentimentality, Bryce simply squeezed her hand.
“Do you have family, Bryce?” she asked, titling her head a bit.
The edge of his mouth lifted ever so slightly with a tight, tiny smile. “I’ve been accused of being cold, but I wasn’t hatched from reptile eggs, if that’s what you’re asking. Of course, I have family.”
His manner was off-handed. Bryce wasn’t a man comfortable talking about himself. “All the usual suspects. A father, mother, two brothers. All military brats. An ex-wife, if that counts as family. She didn’t seem to think so.”
Why, he wondered, had he told her that? It was something he rarely talked about.
“I like to think it does,” Taryn replied. “Until this week, my ex and his new wife were a full one-third of the only family I had to call my own.”
Bryce deftly switched the topic to smoother ground. “So, tell me about the family you discovered this week.”
It was all the encouragement she needed. Taryn launched into a long story about her aunt and many cousins, and the loud, noisy, wonderful meal they had shared. She told him about Susannah’s dream to see the city, and little Pete’s plot to train his chickens. He planned to teach them to walk single file into their coop, and not scatter about when he tucked them in each night.
Quite some time later, Taryn arched her back, realizing how stiff she had become. “I guess I should go. I know you’re beat, having just flown in.”
“I’ll follow you home.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Taryn assured him. “I’ll be fine.”
“Call me overly cautious, but I don’t want you out on the dark country roads this late at night. It’s almost midnight.”
“It is?” she gasped. “I had no idea!” She scooted around the opposite side of the banquette, already gathering the dirty dishes.