by K T Brodland
When they arrived at Dave’s shop, it was clear from the way the balding, olive-skinned mechanic greeted Cat as though she was family that they had known one another for a long time. He beamed at Olivia, shook her hand, pointed out the Mazda, parked near the office looking as good as new. Someone had even given the car a wash. Drops of water trickled down the windshield and sparkled in the sunshine. Olivia gave the car a quick once over, impressed by the workmanship. She couldn’t even see where the front end was damaged. She pronounced that she was more than satisfied with Dave’s work and asked about the bill. She never even winced at the amount he quoted her. She handed him an envelope and waited while he wrote out a receipt. The Mazda’s keys in hand, she retrieved her suitcase from the Mustang and put it into the trunk of her car.
“If you like Chinese food, I can bring some out later. While we’re at it, I’d also like to discuss the possibility of pulling more information off Steven’s cell phone. Just maybe we can get a lead on what’s become of his friends,” Cat said, as Olivia was getting into her car.
“Great minds think alike. I’ve got a couple of ideas of my own. Okay, see you later. And yes, I love Chinese food. Now, I really do have to get going.”
She offered up what she hoped was an apologetic smile and got behind the wheel. She waggled her fingers in farewell as she drove out of the garage’s yard. She glanced up at the rear-view mirror as she turned out onto the street and saw Cat leaning against her car’s hood, hands jammed in her pants pockets, watching after her.
Olivia was still mulling plans for the future when she pulled into her driveway. She remained seated for a few minutes, gazing out at the empty mobile, before finally getting out of the car and retrieving her suitcase.
Upstairs in her bedroom, she gazed wistfully at the black and white photo of Alison and herself posed in front of the house with Buster sitting at their feet. She had so many fond memories of those days. Like Alison’s warm smile and dry sense of humor, or Buster following her everywhere she went, and the soft murmur of the chickens as they settled on their roosts at night. She continued to sit there, letting the memories wash across her, wishing she could turn back the clock. Since there was no chance of that happening, she finished unpacking and carried the suitcase down the hall.
Inside her office, she set the suitcase down next to the filing cabinet where she kept important documents. She pressed a concealed switch and a section of the wall at the back of the closet on her left slid open, revealing a good-sized safe. She placed her hand on the dial and waited for the tumblers to click into place, then grasped the handle and tugged the door open.
Retrieving the suitcase, she set it down on a small ledge just inside the closet where she pried up the false bottom and removed the remaining money and set it inside the safe on top of the other bundles of cash. She had long ago set up an offshore banking account where she kept the funds she had redirected from accounts belonging to the ungodly, as she called the criminal elements who were her primary targets. Occasionally she liberated large sums to cover the expense of running a farm.
Once she emptied the suitcase, she removed a black journal and flipped through it until she came to the final series of entries. They were all in code, one she and Alison had worked on. She stepped to her desk, picked up a black marker and drew a line through the more recent entry. She felt a sense of satisfaction in knowing she had put an end to the career of one more of the monsters who preyed on homeless kids, luring them off the streets with promises of food and shelter only to turn them onto drugs and force them into prostitution. She set the journal back inside the safe, closed the door and gave the dial a spin to lock the safe.
With that taken care of, she glanced at her desk and the computer system that held some of the software she had developed, with Alison’s assistance. She had proved to be a quick study once Alison had revealed what she’d been doing for a living prior to Olivia’s arrival. Olivia considered herself lucky enough to have stayed out of reach of the predators who roamed the streets of many big cities. Others had not been so fortunate. She and Alison had made a formidable team until the day Alison’s doctor had handed down the dreaded diagnosis of late stage breast cancer.
Olivia drew in a deep breath and left the office, locking the door behind her.
Chapter Fifteen
C at mentally crossed her fingers as she watched Olivia drive away. If it wasn’t for the unfortunate incident that had brought them together in the first place, she had a hunch she’d probably not see much of that enigmatic woman again.
Once she was back at the office, she chatted briefly with Anne, then turned on her laptop and began the procedures she used when doing background searches. Finished with the files Anne had left out for her, she turned her attention to finding out more about one Olivia Jeffries.
Despite the amount of time they had spent together, she realized she knew little about her. An hour later she sat back, suspecting that she was going to have to dig a lot deeper than she had so far. According to her search engine, there were more than thirty women using the name Olivia Jeffries. None of them bore the slightest resemblance to the one she knew. They were either too young or too old. As far as she could tell, Olivia Jeffries just appeared out of thin air in the mid-80s. Prior to that, it was as though she didn’t exist. There was no social insurance number, no credit cards. There wasn’t even a high school graduation announcement. So, just who was it occupying her spare bedroom?
She stared at the laptop’s screen for several minutes, hoping for inspiration. Then, acting on a hunch, she went into the vital statistics database and looked up death records for 2001. A quick search revealed an Alison Jeffries, from Boundary Road, Kelowna, who passed away on September ninth at the age of 79 after a lengthy battle with cancer. She was survived by her daughter, Olivia. Cat’s eyebrows rose. Her daughter, eh? Now that was an interesting development. Olivia had already told her Alison wasn’t her real mother. Since it was going to take time to do an in-depth search, she’d leave the matter for the moment. When Anne stuck her head in the door of her office to say good night, she decided it was time to head home.
She was halfway out the door when she paused, remembering her offer of dinner tonight. She grinned and headed for the nearest Chinese restaurant.
Lights were on in the old farmhouse when Cat pulled up in front of the porch a little while later. Olivia’s car was parked inside the shed next to the pickup. Cat swung her legs out of the Mustang, then turned and retrieved a large white bag that held a stack of take-out food containers.
The kitchen door was open, and she could see Olivia slumped at the table, head propped in her hand, clearly ready to call it a day. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she was wearing a sleeveless low-cut top that had Cat trying her damndest not to stare. It was the same with the blue jean shorts that revealed shapely legs.
She stepped into the kitchen, holding up the bag of food. “Dinner is served,” she said, putting the bag down on the table. “I even brought along the requisite chopsticks. Decent ones too, not those skinny little wooden ones they give you.”
Olivia stared at her, too surprised to speak at first. “My hero,” she finally managed. “I’d almost forgotten you said something about dinner. I was just sitting here wondering if I had the energy to drive to the nearest fast food joint and grab a hamburger and then you show up.”
As Cat started unpacking the food, Olivia opened the nearest container. “Oooooh, migawd. Beef with black bean sauce and broccoli!” She pounced on a tall container of wonton soup. “You got two of my favorites.”
“Good. I hope you like the rest of it just as much then.”
“So how much do I owe you for this feast?”
“Not a damn thing. This was my treat.”
“Oh. Um. Okay. But what about the groceries you bought last week? I should help out with those at least.”
“Don’t worry about it. I had to stock up anyway.”
“But…”
“
No buts. Now let’s eat.”
With the subject closed, Olivia inhaled the fragrant aroma wafting from the remaining containers. “There’s Coke in the fridge. I did manage to pick up that much on my way home. Help yourself.”
As they ate, Cat glanced around the kitchen. Flattened cardboard boxes were positioned close to the kitchen door. A box with a Toronto address printed on it was set on a chair.
“Looks as though you’ve had a busy afternoon.”
“Yeah, I did. Much as I want to focus on tracking down the McIntyre’s killers, the rest of the week is going to be more of the same. Tomorrow I’ll start sorting out what goes to charity and what can be tossed or recycled. I’ll get a removal company out here later to take the damaged furniture away.” She pushed her plate to one side. “Care for a glass of wine? I’ve got a decent Merlot if that’s to your liking.”
“I’m more of a beer and whisky gal myself, but I’m willing to make an exception for a good Merlot.”
While Olivia fetched the wine from the pantry, Cat wandered to the big oak sideboard to take a closer look at a framed studio photo placed on one of the shelves. The picture showed two women, one of them clearly a younger Olivia, the other was a tiny woman with short gray hair and sharp brown eyes, whose head barely cleared Olivia’s shoulder. They were standing together, arms around one another’s waists.
Olivia joined her. “That’s Alison with me.”
“Thought so. I’m going to take a wild guess that the farm was originally hers.”
“Until she passed away, yes, it was.”
Olivia held up the Merlot and two glasses. “Why don’t we head outside?”
“Have you worked out a game plan as yet?” Cat said, once they were settled.
“Not really. I’m still trying to sort everything out.”
Cat took her time finishing her drink, thinking about the conversation she wanted to have with Olivia. She was going to have to tread carefully here, but this was as good a time as any.
Leaning forward, forearms resting on her thighs, she cleared her throat. When she was sure she had Olivia’s attention she spoke quietly. “I’ve sensed the anger simmering just below the surface ever since you heard the news about the McIntyres. Especially the part about Steven’s connection to the Alphas.”
“Yeah. And I keep coming back to what was said about him stealing a large sum of money from the gang.”
Cat nodded. “Yeah, that’s one way to guarantee having a hit put out on you. Your handling of the gang members the other night is also not going to make you popular. They take a dim view of a woman armed with only a shotgun taking down four armed men. You may have just painted a target on your own back.”
She glanced sideways to see Olivia staring back at her.
“What are you getting at?’
“I’m thinking that you might want to take extra precautions for the next little while. And that includes keeping me in the loop as well.”
She straightened in her chair and waited for Olivia to respond.
Minutes ticked by. The light faded and the western sky turned shades of pink and orange. A slight breeze stirred strands of Olivia’s hair.
“I appreciate your concern, Cat. Thanks. While I’m still not much of a team player, it hasn’t escaped my attention that I can really use your help. A computer can only go so far,” she said quietly.
“No, it can’t. And it certainly can’t share a glass of wine with you, either.”
“No, it certainly can’t. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to turn in.”
Olivia gathered up the empty glasses, tucked the bottle of wine under her arm, and headed indoors. “Goodnight,” she said over her shoulder as she closed the kitchen door behind her.
Cat remained where she was for a few moments longer, then got to her feet and strode the short distance to her car. She stood by the driver’s door, looking up at the windows on the second floor as lights came on. Well, at least Olivia had seemed open to the idea of them continuing to work together. That was a bonus.
Chapter Sixteen
W hile Olivia nursed her first coffee of the day, she kept thinking about the notion that Cat had planted in her mind the previous evening. If the Alphas had a target on her back now, she was going to have to proceed carefully from here on in. Much as she would have preferred to work from the anonymity of her computer, if she wanted to bring down the Alphas, she was going to have to bite the bullet and work with Cat and face the gang head on. She’d done enough of that back in the day when she was just another face on the streets of whatever town she ended up in. She was as quick back then to defend against the predators that lurked in the shadows as she was to protect the kids who were their prey. She absently rubbed her forehead, reminding herself that she was thirty years older.
When Cat showed up shortly after nine, dressed in faded blue jeans and a tee that had seen better days, her short-cropped hair still damp from a shower, Olivia tried to ignore the rush of pleasure she felt at seeing the woman she had begun to think of as her friend.
She poured Cat a cup of coffee and waved her to one of the kitchen chairs.
“Sorry if I seemed a bit abrupt last night, just before you left. You rather unnerved me with that little speech you gave about me having a target on my back.”
“No need to apologize. I just hope you took what I said to heart.”
“I’ve certainly been giving it a great deal of thought.”
“Glad to hear it.” Cat tipped her head to one side. “And I am perceiving from the solemn expression on your face that you have either come to your own conclusions about our little chat last night, or you think I’m full of hot air.”
“Hot air isn’t the phrase that would normally come to my mind,” Olivia quipped, suppressing a smile.
Cat grinned. “I can imagine. I’ve heard a sample of your vocabulary when you are pissed off.”
“Oh, I was just getting warmed up. If you thought that was bad, you should’ve heard Alison when she got wound up.”
“Seriously, though. Have you given any thought to how we can proceed?”
Sighing, Olivia ran her fingers through her ponytail, pushing it back over her shoulder. “No, I can’t say as I have. Not yet, anyway. I haven’t really had time to sit down and formulate a plan. There is just so much to do right now.”
She nodded toward the cardboard boxes stacked against the kitchen wall. “I need to go through Abe and Barb’s personal effects to see if there is anything that their family might want.” She nudged a spiral notebook with her index finger. “And there is the planting schedule for this season.” She shook her head. “Abe was great at organizing all this stuff, but I really don’t know where to begin. I could manage growing enough for my own needs, did it all the time before Alison got sick, but taking on a market garden on my own is a tall order.”
Cat took a long swallow of her coffee before replying. “You don’t have to do it on your own, you know. I’m no expert but I do know one end of a hoe from another.” She grinned. “And I have any number of friends who would be delighted to pitch in. You met a couple of them the other day.”
“You mean Pat and Tracy?”
“Yup. Those two are farm-raised and they would love nothing more than to get their hands dirty again.”
Olivia chewed on that idea for a moment or two, wondering how she would feel about strangers getting involved in her life. Barb and Abe had pretty much worked on their own. The only time she really connected with them was when it came time to help bring in the crops and pay the bills. The rest of the time she spent closeted in her office taking care of another kind of business.
“I’ll have to think about it,” she said finally. “As for your other idea,” She pushed her coffee cup around in a circle on the table. “What exactly do you have in mind anyway?”
“For starters, I’d like to see what else is on Steven’s cell phone. Next would be to access his computer.”
“I’m one step ahead of you. I can a
ccess all his files and upload them to my computer. As for his computer, I don’t recall seeing it when we went through the place this past Tuesday. I asked Trish about it, but she doesn’t even know the password for it, let alone Steven’s email address.”
“He really tried to keep her in the dark, didn’t he?”
“Yeah, makes me wonder what he was trying to hide from her.”
“Then the first order of business is to run a background check on everyone Steven was in touch with.”
“I see. And just for the record, have you done a background check on me?”
Cat smoothed her hand across her hair and nodded. “Yes, I have. Mostly because I was hoping I could talk you into coming to work for me.”
“And…?”
“Not even so much as a parking ticket.”
“I’d be surprised if you had found one. What else?”
Cat shifted in her chair, then crossed her arms across her chest.
“It would seem Olivia Jeffries didn’t exist before 1987,” she said, exhaling softly. “I also checked the obituary notices and found one for an Alison Jeffries, who passed away in two thousand one. She was said to be survived by her daughter, Olivia. Since you’d already mentioned that Alison was more like a mother to you than your own had ever been, that seemed a rather interesting coincidence.”
A muscle twitched in Olivia’s jaw as she digested the fact that she wasn’t the only one who knew how to do a deep dive. She certainly didn’t expect to find someone who appeared to know her way around a computer as well as Cat. Maybe this would work after all. Or not. It was too soon to tell. Even so, there was an edge to Olivia’s voice when she spoke. “I’ll give you that one. However, that’s where any poking around into my life ends. If it doesn’t, any possibility of friendship between us ends. Permanently. Is that understood?”