“So…she had no living relatives other than her father’s parents. They refused her. In fact, they were quite vocal that they felt she had something to do with it. That and the fact that the police had to backtrack and state the reason why they would let the father go. Apparently the father, Sam, told them that Anne had fabricated the story because she was jealous of her sister. He was apparently concerned for his safety and his family’s safety because of her extreme intelligence. It was in the paper, almost like the police were trying to exonerate themselves by casting doubt on this young girl’s sanity. She went into foster care. According to what I have, she never had contact with her grandparents again. They’re both dead now, and she probably has no idea.” Daniel sat back in his chair and looked up from the paper.
“That’s the worst of it. There’s more, though,” he seemed almost relieved to be finished with that portion. Ian stared at him in stunned silence.
“They found DNA evidence on the girl and in her room, so it was pretty obvious that Anne was telling the truth. She was allowed to return to school five months after the…incident. She lived with her foster family for two years before attending college. She has one friend that I could find. Beth McGowan. Beth was also housed with the same foster family. From phone records, I can see that the two of them talk regularly. In fact, other than your number and hers, there aren’t many other calls except for a string of calls lately from a Philadelphia area code,” he stated.
“Who?” Ian breathed out.
“An Oncologist’s office,” he responded. If it was possible, Ian could practically feel the blood drain from his face.
“I don’t know why,” Danial continued. “That information is really hard to come by. I can’t access medical records, they keep that pretty much airtight in America,” he stated. “Her grandmother on her mother’s side died of breast cancer, so it could just be a routine visit,” he added.
Ian sincerely hoped so.
“So,” he fumbled with the papers once again, “She attended UCLA, double major in Chemical Engineering and Pre-Med. She continued on with her Medical degree, did her residency at St. Luke’s in San Diego. She stayed there for a few years as a Neurosurgeon and from what I can gather, she was phenomenal. Her success rate was 100 percent and to say that is a remarkable feat is an understatement. It makes no sense, though. She left. Just walked away. Took a year off, flew down to Colombia, came back with a new face from what I can gather and went back to school for a few courses in Chemistry and Psychopharmacology. She took a job at Haviland Bio-Med and worked there for two years before she was let go. I couldn’t get the specifics, they were pretty tight-lipped about it, just gave me the dates of her employment but there were rumors,” he said.
“Rumors about what?” Ian asked cautiously.
“She may have had a personal relationship with the VP of Operations, man by the name of David Sommerville. He’s married now, he wasn’t then. I really couldn’t get much information, just speculation from a couple of people that work at Haviland. I do know that she was rather highly esteemed at that facility, so I’m not quite sure what went wrong. She was unemployed for a while, but apparently Dunmed reached out to her, she was offered a job after interviewing with your HR Rep, ummm…Karen Tsartchev. She’s no longer employed with your company, but you probably already know that,” he stated.
Actually, he didn’t.
“I also have some financial information,” he stated as he pulled another sheet to the front of the pile. ‘She’s definitely over her head in bills. Her credit is…well, she’s keeping up but barely. I think she took a rather big hit after the surgery, at least from what I can tell,” he stated as he laid the papers on his desk. “Bought herself a new wardrobe and a rather expensive car shortly after she came back to America,” he added.
Ian reached over to grab the papers from the desk.
“That’s all I have for now. I think that’s enough, though, don’t you? My god, I can’t believe this woman can even…” he didn’t finish his sentence.
Function. Ian finished Daniel’s sentence in his head.
“Do you want me to keep investigating?” he heard Daniel’s voice.
“No,” he shook his head, his eyes staring at the paper before him, his look vacant but his mind was positively reeling.
So many questions, but the answers could only truly come from one source. He barely noticed Daniel standing up. He was saying something, but Ian’s mind was three thousand miles away. He made some sort of response as he was left alone with his thoughts.
A feeling was washing over him as he sat and regarded the folder Daniel left on his desk.
It wasn’t guilt. He would justify his actions a thousand times in his head. Yes, it was wrong, but if he had the choice? He would have done it again.
“Mrs. Craigh?” he stated after pressing the button on his desk phone.
“Yes?” he heard through the speaker.
“I need the first flight you can get to Philadelphia.”
*****
Anne stood in front of the stove, debating whether or not to actually cook something. Her stomach was in knots for some reason and the thought of food wasn’t exactly appealing at the moment. Something was wrong.
In all the time she had known Ian, she had only initiated contacted with him maybe once or twice. Each time, he had always responded almost immediately. The text she sent him last night was never returned. It was a nice text, but one she regretted sending as she contemplated her empty stove top. Maybe she shouldn’t have sent it. Maybe he preferred the chase. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so mushy to send him a text to let him know she couldn’t wait to see him. It was so completely out of her comfort zone but it came from the heart and honestly, it seemed like the right thing to do at the time.
She had fallen in love with him and the realization of that fact last night caused her fingers to do something so foolish…
She let out a quick rush of breath. Maybe he was traveling. Maybe he was busy in meetings. That certainly was a possibility. Maybe being in love turned normally sensible people into highly sensitized morons, she though ruefully.
She should cook something. Her feet stayed rooted to the floor, though. The faint sound of…tinkling could be heard from the living room and the sound of the front door opening caused a loud groan to escape from her mouth as she rolled her eyes and hung her head, shaking it.
Footsteps sounded after the door closed and her head snapped up as they sounded closer.
Perfect.
Just perfect, she seethed in her head.
“I’m not leaving,” she announced with her back still turned. “You can work around me, I don’t give a shit, but you aren’t running me off tonight,” she yelled out. Her hands were fisted at her sides. If Irene even so much as said something back in her normal snotty tone, Anne wouldn’t be responsible for her actions.
“Well, that’s good to know,” she heard from behind her.
Not Irene.
The deep brogue caused her body to jolt with awareness as she turned and automatically caught her breath at the sight of him. She practically bound the few steps separating them before she could stop herself and launched herself at the poor man.
“Ian!” she exclaimed as he caught her to him and held her as she planted a few kisses on his face. “What are you doing here?” she asked between kisses. She held both sides of his face as he held her body to his. She leaned back slightly to look at him; her heart was pounding wildly in her chest.
“Anne,” he started in a low tone, his face so completely serious and almost…foreboding. Not Annie, just Anne, he had said.
“I’m sorry, I don’t usually launch myself at people,” she stated on a suddenly nervous laugh. “It’s a little out of character for me. I think I scared you,” she attempted to push back but he kept her held firm. She wriggled enough to plant her feet on the ground.
“So, really, what are you doing here?” she asked, looking up at his somber expression.
/>
His answer was an audible breath.
“Now you’re scaring me. Is there…something going on with the company?” she asked cautiously. Finally, maybe he was going to tell her about selling…
He gave a small shake of his head, his eyes still intense on hers. Apparently not.
“Something wrong with…you?” she fished, only to receive another silent shake of his head.
This was completely strange.
“Something wrong with…me?” she asked on a whim and received the nod she didn’t expect but dreaded at the same time.
“I know, Anne,” he finally spoke. If he wasn’t holding her up, she would have surely crumpled to the floor. Her legs – her whole body felt numb suddenly. What did he know?
Oh god. Words just seemed to flow from her mouth. “We…listen. It…I’m sure it seems bad, but in our defense…you’re just so stubborn, and we were only trying to…” she stammered out before he interrupted her.
“What are you talking about?” he asked with confusion etched on his already serious features.
“What are you talking about?” she asked quietly. He loosened his hold enough that she could take a step back.
“You. Your past,” he stated. Her legs really did give out at his soft admission. He tightened his hold once again.
“I’m so sorry, Anne,” he whispered.
She could only stare at him. How? Why? Her mouth opened but nothing came out. Her eyes darted to the side as her brain tried to make sense of what he just said. Her past. All of it? Some of it? What did he know?
“What do you…know?” she finally uttered without meeting his gaze.
“Let’s sit.” He started pulling her toward the living room. Her body followed on shaky legs, her mind searching and discarding, finding and dismissing… a million thoughts zinging through her brain and nothing concrete sticking during the relatively short walk to the couch. He waited while she folded her legs and thumped into the soft cushions before seating himself on the opposite end of the love seat. His hands were still clasped around hers.
“What do you know? Wait. How do you know?” she breathed out, her eyes searching his.
He looked so completely uncomfortable. He waited a moment. It felt like a lifetime to her as she held her breath.
“I had you…I’m not proud of this, Anne,” he finally stated. “It’s just…you’re so…I don’t want to make another mistake,” he stated in an uneasy tone. At her confused stare, he blew out a breath. “I had you checked out,” he forced out and watched as dawning seemed to light her eyes and replace the confusion.
“You…had me investigated?” she asked through barely moving lips.
“Yes.”
Her head thumped to the side and cradled against the back cushions of the couch as her eyes closed. “Oh god,” she groaned out. “You’re such a jerk,” she added with her eyes still closed tightly. Her hands shook free of his and clenched in fists on her lap.
“I know,” he agreed all too readily. She could feel his hand touch hers softly. She swatted it away before pulling her hands closer to her chest.
“I don’t even know what to say to this. Is that why you’re here? Wait,” She popped open her eyes and almost recoiled at the look on his face. That look she hated.
It was called pity and it didn’t look good on anyone.
“Stop looking at me like that. I hate that. Stop it,” her eyes dropped to her lap as she crossed her arms over her chest.
“Anne. Like I said, I’m not proud of what I did, but I needed to know.”
“Why? Why?” she emphasized as her eyes lifted to his imploring some kind of decent answer from him.
“Because I love you.”
The wind was officially knocked out of her. His look was so sincere it made her body tingle with added fluttering in her stomach. The feeling was short lived before anger usurped her previous bliss.
“You had to have me checked out because you love me? Do you know how fucked up that is?” she whispered.
“Anne? Can I ask you a question?” he didn’t wait for an answer before he continued, “Would you have ever told me?”
“NO,” she forced out with absolute conviction.
“See?” One of his brows shot up knowingly.
“See what? What do you expect? What exactly do you know about me and would you please stop looking at me like that?”
“I can’t help it,” he stated honestly.
“Try,” she commanded. “Now, tell me what your hired Snoop dug up on me,” she added through clenched teeth.
“Your family, your face, your…financial situation,” he answered automatically.
“Oh. Is that all? Well…” she bit out with a sarcastic laugh.
“Anne,” he started.
She sobered immediately. “No. Aren’t you a little nervous sitting across from the modern day Lizzie Borden of the West Coast?”
“I have no idea who that is,” he shook his head.
“Late eighteen hundreds; killed her dad and stepmom, was acquitted. Everyone still thinks she did it… What do you think? Hmm?”
“That’s ridiculous, Anne. You’re not a killer,” he stated with the utmost confidence.
“No? Tell that to my grandparents…” she trailed off with a sardonic smirk.
“They’re…never mind,” he stopped himself.
“What?”
“They’re…ummm…” he started, not quite sure how to say it.
“Dead?”
“Aye.”
“Good,” she stated in a bland tone.
“Anne…”
“Shut up, Ian. I need to think for a second. I need to wrap my head around the fact that we’re even having this conversation.” She tried to calm her breathing, maybe get her pulse to stop beating like crazy. He kept quiet as she stared as the surface of the couch cushion between them.
“What are you thinking?” She finally uttered, refusing to look up.
“I’m thinking that I love you very much. I’m thinking that I can’t believe you are the person that you are in spite of…everything you’ve been through. I’m thinking that if you don’t let me hold you right now, I may go crazy…”
“You’re already crazy. Sane men don’t hire people to investigate people they think they’re in love with,” she returned before taking a deep breath and releasing it.
“I’m glad you know. Isn’t that funny?” she stated after a swallow. “It is to me. No one really knows this, except Beth. Do you know who Beth is?” she asked.
“Aye,”
“Of course,” she nodded before a sarcastic snort sounded.
“Anne. Annie…” he breathed out as his fingers twitched. She was so close. It was all he could do to hold himself back. “Tell me. Talk to me, please?”
“What do you want to know that you don’t already know? What difference does it make?”
“I just…I just want to understand. If it’s too painful, we won’t,” he answered gently.
“It’s not,” she stated with false bravado. Not entirely, she amended in her head.
“Did he…umm…touch you? Is that why you lock the door at night?”
Her eyes snapped to his. “Who? Sam? Sam never touched me,” she let out an almost bitter laugh. “Are you kidding? He was so horrified by my looks; he felt the need to let me know how hideous I was to him every chance he got. He was right, though. I looked like the love child of Pete Townsend and Susan Boyle with…Kid Rock hair.”
“I have no idea…what’s a Kid Rock?” he asked.
“Google it, Ian. Who cares? Let’s just say I was too unattractive for that pervert to touch. I guess in a way I was lucky in that regard but my younger sister wasn’t. My mother and my sister were beautiful. I have no idea where my face came from to be honest. Sam used to accuse my mother of having an affair with the neighbor’s dog…”
“Oh, Anne…”
She held up her hand. “You know? He was just trying to break me down. I realize that now. I
honestly think he was intimidated by me. He knew I was smarter than him and that was his way of putting me in my place. That’s how I rationalize it in my head at least. God, I hated him then and I hate him even more now. He was a brilliant, manipulative, crazy asshole but we were all stuck with him. I had no idea he was doing anything to Sophie and I’m not even sure when it started, I just know she changed from a vibrant outgoing child to a quiet, withdrawn teenager. I was too wrapped up in school to really pay attention at first. Then there was my Mother. She was in on it; did your investigator tell you that?” At the subtle shake of his head, she continued, “She wasn’t very sharp, plus she battled severe depression. She let Sam walk all over her. It was almost painful to watch their interaction with each other.”
She brought her knees to her chest and hugged them with her arms. “She used to give me a glass of warm milk every night before I would go to bed. I always drank it and never thought anything of it. I had a stomach ache one night so I tossed it down the drain when she put Sophie to bed. Worst night of sleep in my life. I actually didn’t sleep at all, I heard my sister scream in the middle of the night and I tried to open my door but I couldn’t. My knob had a lock on both sides of my door. Crazy right? So I’m trying to open the door and my Mother opens it and tells me that Sophie had a bad dream. I asked her why she locked me in and she said I was a sleepwalker. Was I? I didn’t know. How would I know?” she asked, her eyes fastened on the spot beyond his shoulder.
“So the next day, I tried to talk to Sophie but my Mother was basically pushing me out the door to go to school. Sophie was home schooled by my Mom and I never really knew the real reason until it was too late. There was no way they would let her interact with other kids. Mom said she needed extra attention that a school wouldn’t be able to give and I thought that was weird. She was smart, just quiet. Lots of kids are shy, right? So anyway, I tossed the milk again that night and sure enough…no sleep…and oddly enough? I heard her again. That’s when I knew something was up. I pretended like I was sick the next day and I didn’t go to school. Sam had early class that day so he wasn’t there to help her convince me. Usually they would be adamant that I go even when I was sick. That time, I just basically lay in my bed, refusing to move and no amount of her prodding was swaying me. I sort of walked around the house, clutching my stomach, acting like I was on the verge of death but I was waiting for a moment alone with Sophie. Mom went to the bathroom and I asked her point blank what was going on. She started crying. Said she couldn’t tell or Sam would kill us all. She was terrified. I asked her if he touched her and all she said was that it was her fault. Because she was so pretty…”
Absolute Zero Page 38