Her Secret Life

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  Taking another sip of the one whiskey he allowed himself in any twenty-four-hour period, he thought of her hiding in the bathroom to speak to him and grinned as he looked out over the green grass beyond the half wall surrounding his yard.

  Of course she’d be out. “Michael?” The concern in her tone sobered him, so he gave her the bad news all at once.

  “Someone is not only using your old email address as a screen name, they’ve hacked into your email account, too.”

  “Who’s doing it?”

  “I don’t know yet. I’ve traced an IP address to a physical address not far from your place in LA.” He wasn’t sure how much he wanted to tell her. He sure as hell didn’t want her confronting anyone herself. “I still don’t know what we’re dealing with here, Kace,” he told her. “There’s no evidence that your address has been used for anything other than to register for the account used to post the one photo. I’ve searched deep and I don’t find anything else.”

  “But it’s a concern that they used my email address.”

  That was putting it mildly.

  “The first thing I’d like to do is talk to Lacey...”

  He’d met her sister several times, mostly at the Lemonade Stand. Jem, Lacey’s husband, had been in counseling at the Stand for most of the past year. Mike had also chatted with Kacey’s family at several of the Stand’s social functions.

  They’d invited him to do more, to join them at their place for dinner a time or two, but he couldn’t let that happen. Couldn’t risk giving anyone the impression that he and Kacey could or should be paired off as a couple. If that happened, things would only grow uncomfortable between them and inevitably have a negative impact on their friendship.

  But for business, with Kacey in Beverly Hills, he could stop by her sister’s place.

  “No. I don’t want you bothering Lacey with this. She and Jem have been married three months and are only just this next week leaving for a honeymoon in Italy. Mom and Dad are going to be watching Levi for an entire seven days. I don’t want that messed up.”

  “We need to talk to her, Kace,” he said. “We need to know who could have had access to her account information. Is it on her computer at work? Could someone there be behind this?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “I don’t, either, but we need to find out.”

  Her pause let him breathe a little easier.

  “Okay, but let me tell her about it.”

  “Then have her call me.”

  “Okay. I’ll call her as soon as we hang up.”

  He had a thought about dinner and the show. Wondering how much time she had. And how patient Bo Neanderthal would be.

  “I have a lunch meeting tomorrow in LA,” he continued. “I plan to drive in a little early and check out the physical address where the IP address is registered.” Before she suggested she could do it herself, he added, “But in the meantime, I’d like to know how many people actually knew and used this email address.”

  “Just Lacey and me.”

  “I mean, who might have known it from emails you’ve sent.”

  “I have no idea...” Her voice trailed off and he heard a toilet flush. Heard her chuckle and make a muffled comment. “Sorry, someone was in here. We haven’t sent emails or given out the address in years. Not since Lacey went to college. But when we were in high school, our close friends had it.”

  “I’ll need those names.”

  “Okay, but...should I be calling the police, Michael?”

  “And tell them what? That someone used your email account to post a picture of you?”

  “A Photoshopped picture.”

  “But coming from your account.”

  “But it made me look...drunk. Or high.”

  “A year ago, from what you’ve said, the depiction would have been accurate, so it would be hard to prove a motive of maliciousness, or even harm.”

  “It’s illegal to hack into someone’s email account.”

  He heard the tiger in her voice and almost smiled again.

  “Yes, it is, but until we have proof that it’s happened, or proof that malicious harm is intended, or any harm, we have nothing to take to anyone. This could be little more than a prank.”

  “Do you think that’s what it is?”

  He wanted to tell her he did. Simply to ease her mind.

  “No. What I want is for you to be careful. Watch over your shoulder, but live your life and let me do what I do...”

  “Okay.” She sounded...definite.

  “How soon can you get me those names?” He had all night.

  “You want me to cancel my evening plans? I can go home right now and look through past emails. At the advice of an agent, Lacey and I have always saved everything we’ve ever sent or received. They’re on flash drives. I’m happy to go now if you think it’s necessary.”

  Poor Bo.

  “No, that’s fine. But call Lacey for me, would you? I’d like to speak with her tonight, while she’s at home, just in case there’s someone in her office who’s trying to cause trouble.”

  He didn’t think that was what had happened. At all. Whoever had posted the picture had clearly been after Kacey. But to what purpose? Why now, after she’d stopped living the wild, partying lifestyle?

  Ringing off, he reminded himself that the purpose was not his business. His job was internet investigation. Beyond that was up to Kacey. Or, if things turned bad, the police.

  * * *

  THE LAST THING in the world Kacey wanted to do was phone her sister with her crap. Their whole lives Lacey had been the one to take care of things, whether it was smoothing the way with their parents when Kacey had gotten them into trouble or getting rid of an unwanted suitor—and, their whole lives, Kacey had been the one to shine.

  Over the years, while she hadn’t understood it and had been hurt horribly by it, she and Lacey had grown further apart. Until one day her identical twin, her other half, had left her. Just...left.

  Well, Lacey had told her that she was going—but only the day before. Then she’d packed up and walked out. Left the modeling business. The commercial-making business. They’d been in front of the camera together since they were too young to do anything but look cute and gurgle, and Lacey had broken up the team.

  They’d become almost strangers after that—as much as identical twins who still saw each other often and talked every week could be strangers.

  Then finally last summer, by some miracle, Lacey had invited Kacey to spend her vacation in Santa Raquel. There’d been some tough moments, but they’d worked through a lot of their past hurts.

  And they were slowly finding their way back to a better version of the best they’d ever been.

  She didn’t want that progress slowed. Or damaged.

  Yet there she was, right back to being in the spotlight and needing Lacey’s help.

  And she absolutely did not want her sister to think that she’d gone back on her word and started drinking heavily or partying again.

  What she did want was to be in control of her life. And accountable for it.

  Forgetting Bo for the moment, not caring about dinner or theaters or anything in Hollywood, she speed-dialed her sister’s number. Tried to feel what Lacey would feel when she heard the news.

  And got in her own way. She couldn’t feel her sister when she was too busy feeling herself.

  The call took less than two minutes.

  Lacey was great—passionate and compassionate. Ready to do whatever it took to wipe the planet of any demon that might dare to venture into Kacey’s life.

  Not for one second did she indicate, in any way, that she had even the slightest doubt that the image was Photoshopped.

  She said she’d call Mike Valentine immediately.

>   Told Kacey she loved her.

  And went back to her life. More specifically, she was going to join Jem and Levi for a trip to the local ice cream store.

  After she ended the call, Kacey stood alone in the Beverly Hills restroom, wishing she had what Lacey had.

  A home in Santa Raquel with her own family.

  A life she’d purposely chosen.

  A path she understood.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  MIKE WASN’T THE least bit surprised when Lacey’s call included an invitation for him to come right over and check out her machine. Lacey and Jem Bridges were just that way—open doors and willingness to help written all over them. As a social worker, Lacey offering a helping hand seemed natural. Jem was just plain one of the nicest guys Mike had ever met.

  He also had an embarrassing and never to be spoken of—or even fully acknowledged to himself—sense of brotherhood with Jem. Like Mike, Jem had suffered at the hand of a loved one. Equally as bad, worse in Mike’s case, was the world knowing he was a victim. That sense of people looking at you with pity could make you feel less...manly if you let it. Jem didn’t. At all.

  Mike didn’t, either.

  Hence the brotherhood.

  It ended there. Unlike Jem’s abuse, Mike’s injury had had nothing to do with a loved one purposely attacking him. Mike’s injury was the result of a complete and total accident. A tragic accident that had...

  No.

  Kacey had touched his chest...telling him he was beautiful...

  No. He was not looking back. There was no point wondering what could have been.

  If not for the bullet that had ripped his face apart, he never would have met Kacey. Known the joy of her friendship.

  He’d have been married to Susan, fully entrenched in the corporate world in whatever city made him the best offer, and probably spending Saturdays driving their kids places.

  Not a bad picture.

  But not Kacey.

  And he wouldn’t have been able to help out the Lemonade Stand, either, or had such close relationships with his parents and siblings.

  “Mike, come in!” Lacey stepped back, pulling the door open wider, as Jem came forward to shake his hand.

  “What’s up, man?” Jem fist-bumped him on the shoulder with his free hand, a grin on his face.

  “Business, unfortunately,” Mike answered as though he’d rehearsed his response. Which he had.

  He wasn’t there because he was hot for Kacey. He was working.

  As soon as it became anything else, people would start pitying him.

  And this time, with reason. If he was stupid enough to fall for her, he’d deserve to be pitied.

  He might find the daytime-soap star hot, he might even enjoy her company, but he most definitely did not want to queue up in her line of men.

  He was a one-woman kind of guy who liked the quiet life. A geek who liked his own company.

  He would hate being a part of the crazy mélange that was Kacey’s Beverly Hills life.

  The thought of enduring even one week of that lifestyle gave him cold sweats.

  Much more effective than a cold shower.

  “I’m going to be playing T-ball. You like watching T-ball?”

  Shaking errant thoughts from his mind, Mike focused on the five-year-old who’d just approached licking a soggy chocolate ice cream cone.

  “Yes, Levi, it just so happens I do like watching T-ball,” he said, nodding. “I used to like to play, too, and watch my little brothers play.”

  “Cool. Maybe you could come watch me sometime.”

  From what he’d been told by his secret friend, Kacey attended every Levi event she could. But T-ball games often happened on weeknights. And Kacey would be in LA.

  “Maybe I could,” he told the little boy and tensed at the same time.

  What are you doing, man?

  What if Levi’s team made it to a tournament? The family would expect him to come cheer the team on. Tournament games were on Saturdays and...

  “Levi, you’d best lick fast.” Jem tapped his son’s shoulder and pointed him toward the hallway. “It’s your bedtime. And Mr. Valentine’s a busy man.”

  Yes. He was. And he was there to work. He watched the dark-haired boy walk down the hallway with his dad, remembering Kacey’s tears the first time she’d talked about the abuse the little guy had suffered at the hands of his biological mother.

  Thank God for Jem. And Lacey. Levi seemed like a perfectly normal, happy kid.

  “It’s so great of you to do this,” Lacey said as she led Mike to the home office she shared with her husband. “I know you’re crazy busy—hence a house call after eight at night...”

  He shrugged. Work was a high to him. He was the best at what he did. “Saved me from dinner with Charlie and her brood,” he said, though, truth be told, he generally enjoyed dinner with his sister’s family. Unless she was being overprotective—which was about half the time.

  Lacey was booting up her computer. “She’s got a little one Levi’s age.”

  “That’s right. Bella.”

  “I saw her hugging you after the Christmas pageant. I was heading over to say hi, hoping maybe you’d introduce us to your family, but you’d already left.”

  He’d seen Kacey and bolted before things got awkward.

  The kids weren’t in the same class, just the same grade. And he and Kacey hadn’t communicated via text or email almost every day back then. He hadn’t been aware of her plans, or even known she’d be in town unless she happened to show up at the Lemonade Stand when he was there.

  Well...he’d always known about Fridays, of course, because of her class. And because, for a long time, that was when they’d meet to talk about her struggles living a cleaner lifestyle in LA. After her class. In the small private office he still kept in the rear of the computer repair shop that was on the street backing up to the Lemonade Stand. The whole block had shops with secure entrances to and from the Stand.

  And was owned by the Stand’s benefactor, Brett Ackerman. All proceeds from the shops open to the public helped to support the women’s shelter. Mike had spent a lot more time there when they’d first been setting up the computer repair shop than he did now.

  “Here you go,” Lacey said. “Have at it.”

  He glanced at the screen. Emails were still coming in. “You want to take a look and move anything you’d rather I don’t see?”

  She shook her head. “I want to know who’s using our email account. Look at anything you need to...”

  He was an IT investigator. He knew the kinds of things that could be found. Not that he expected Lacey—or Jem—to have anything illegal on their machines. But...private...was conceivable.

  “What about confidential work files?”

  She shook her head. “Not on that machine. I log in to my work computer—”

  “Which answers my next question. The two computers are connected sometimes?”

  “Yes.” She was frowning.

  “And do you ever email Kacey with your private account from work?”

  “I don’t remember specifically doing so, but I’m sure I have. I’ve never made it a point not to.”

  “Can you hide files and do whatever is necessary so I can get a look at that machine tomorrow?”

  “You do investigations for the local police, don’t you?”

  “I have. On occasion. They have their own IT investigators.”

  “If you have clearance with them, you’ve got clearance with us. It’s a city-wide thing.”

  He’d known he had clearance, just not that she wouldn’t have to go through extra red tape.

  He was already sitting in her desk chair, clicking through screens.

  “You’re doing that so qu
ickly, how can you even know what’s there?”

  “I’m searching for something very specific. I know where it will be...” He looked at back-door computer information all day, every day. “It’s like any foreign language.” He often told ladies at the Lemonade Stand the same thing. “Once you learn it, you don’t have to think about it. You just recognize it.”

  Not that he taught computer forensics to the residents at the Stand. With them it was more basic programming for career training...

  He took a couple of screen shots, emailed them to himself and then stood up. “I’m done here,” he said, as eager to be gone as he’d been to visit.

  This urge he’d had to get to know Lacey a little better—more of a curiosity, really—because she and Kacey were so tightly intertwined, wasn’t good.

  And he most certainly didn’t need to see where Kacey stayed when she was in town any more than he’d ever have cause to see her place in Beverly Hills.

  “You want a cup of coffee?” Lacey asked. “Or a beer? Jem’ll be out in a couple of minutes and I know he’d share a beer with you. I can’t stand the stuff, so he’s always looking for an excuse to have one with someone.”

  Mike was already shaking his head. “I should be getting back,” he said, filled with even more eagerness to go when he realized how tempted he was to stay.

  “You sure? I baked cookies with Levi last night. There are still a bunch left.”

  She’d led him to the kitchen rather than to the front door and took the lid off a cookie jar that was shaped like a teddy bear. He didn’t want to be rude.

  But he couldn’t stay. Dipping his hand in the jar, he came up with a chocolate chip cookie that could rival his mother’s.

  That made him think about the home-cooked dinner he’d missed at his sister’s. About the home Lacey and Jem shared. The ones both of his sisters and their husbands shared. The one his parents shared.

  His younger brother Dennis stayed with Mike on the rare occasions Dennis was in town. And as soon as he graduated from college in May, he’d be back even less. Dennis wanted to be a professional fisherman and spent up to three months at a time out on one of the big boats in the middle of the ocean.