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Saved By The Glass Slipper

Page 7

by Markee Anderson


  I handed him the passport and he looked it over. “You didn’t travel at all before they were killed.”

  “No. Dad wanted us all to be incognito and off the radar. I’m surprised John and Randy gave me that trip to France, actually. If Dad had been alive, he’d have been livid.”

  “So, let me get this straight. You started out as Amy Summers, then your parents were killed. You became Amy Charles and moved to North Carolina to finish undergrad. You took a trip to France and when you got home, you were robbed, so you changed your name to Amy Duffy and moved to Gainesville to go to graduate school. You were robbed again, and transferred here where you became Amy Watson.”

  “Absolutely correct.” I smiled at him. “You’re very bright.”

  “It’s not rocket science.” Mark bundled all of the passports with the rubber band again and looked through some more of the things. “Your birth certificate,” he said. “Your birthday was last week and you’re 27.”

  I waved him off. “I never celebrate it any more, so it doesn’t matter.”

  He had a puzzled look on his face. “You don’t celebrate your birthday?”

  “No. It doesn’t mean anything because my family isn’t here.”

  “Didn’t Connor ever ask you about your birthday?”

  I looked toward him in surprise. It’d never dawned on me before. “No. The more I think about it, you were completely right. He really was a loser.” I smiled at Mark. “You’re much nicer, anyway.”

  Mark stood up and started to pace. “Hold that comment until I tell you something.”

  “What do you want to tell me?”

  “I have to tell you a bunch of things, but I’m not sure where to begin. I’ve been keeping things from you.”

  I hopped off the couch and backed away from him. “Are you a serial killer?”

  “No,” he said with a chuckle. “It’s a long story and I want you to understand things from my side before you judge me. Does that make sense?”

  “No, but I’ll try to have an open mind.”

  “Let’s call your brothers first. I have to make sure they’re safe.”

  “You’re stalling.”

  “Absolutely.” He smiled, grabbed the phone from beside the couch, and handed it to me. “Call John first. He’s the oldest.”

  “But your phone bill. I can’t do that to you.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I can call anywhere for one fee, so it’s all covered.”

  I grinned. This was getting better and better. I pulled out my address book and dialed the number. It was about seven at night, so in Colorado, it would only be five, or dinnertime.

  “Hello,” my brother said.

  “John, it’s Amy.”

  “We’re sitting down to eat,” he barked.

  “Right. I figured that. I’ll be brief. Someone broke into my apartment…again.”

  “No,” he said, stretching out the word. I was sure he was now sitting down. “Did they take anything?”

  “They took term papers, family photos and possibly my phone records. I’m worried for your safety.”

  “They’ll never find us. Call Randy, though. He’s closer to where you live. Where are you moving to this time?”

  “I’m staying with a friend right now.” I glanced over at Mark and smiled.

  “I don’t like the sound of that. What friend?”

  “His name is—”

  “His name?” John yelled. “Amy, what are you doing? You come out here right now and stay with us.”

  “No, sir. We’re to stay apart, remember?”

  “Yes, I remember.” I was sure he was running his hand through his hair because he sounded frustrated. “But I don’t like this. How long have you known this man?”

  “A little over a day.” He began to scream something nasty, so I held the phone away from my ear while wincing.

  “I don’t think he trusts you,” I whispered to Mark.

  Mark held his hand out to take the phone.

  I interrupted John’s tirade. “John, Mark wants to talk to you. Now, be nice, or you’ll never hear from me again. Got it?”

  “Yes, and I can’t have that happen,” he answered, calming down.

  “Why not?”

  “I can’t tell you over the phone. Someone might be listening. Can you fly out here to see me?”

  “I can’t afford to fly out there,” I said.

  Mark grabbed the phone from me. “I’ll talk to him.” He left the room and I heard him act like a professional. I couldn’t hear what they were discussing because the doorbell rang. Mark turned off the alarm and answered the door while he talked to John. He walked back into the living room and handed me at least six big bags, then left again, resetting the alarm with a series of beeps. He paced from room to room, making me worried about what John might be telling him.

  I turned to the big white bags that Mark had given me instead. The first one was the smallest and contained a bunch of toiletries. All of them were brand new and exactly like what I had in my apartment. There was even an electric toothbrush as well as a regular one, and all my other personal items, exactly my brands. Who did this?

  When opening the second bag, I saw tons of bras, underwear, and many nightgowns, all in my size. At least I’d have something to wear. The next group of bags was filled with dresses and shoes that matched. There were pantyhose and everything I’d need for work. Whoever did this was really good, too, because it was all my style.

  The last set of bags must have contained at least ten pairs of jeans, tons of shorts, sweatpants, tee shirts, two pair of sneakers and many, many polo shirts, which were my favorite. Every color of the rainbow was represented. I even saw a bathing suit that almost matched my red suit, exactly. They must’ve spent a bundle on those bags alone. I’d have to repay this person.

  Mark entered the room with a grin, still talking on the phone. “Thank you very much for the invitation. We’ll treat you and your family to lunch.”

  He said goodbye, ended the call, and sat down beside me. “Like it?”

  I closed the bag in my hands and stared at him. “Why? How? How much do I owe this person?”

  He kissed my cheek. “You had no clothes, so I had someone pick some out according to what you had in your closet. You owe them nothing.”

  “But I can’t—”

  “Yes, you can and you’ll take them. You had nothing. There are new suitcases at the door. I couldn’t carry them along with all the bags and the phone.” He watched my mouth hanging down. “Your brother is very nice, by the way.”

  I winced because I knew better. “Did he beat you up on the phone?”

  “He started to, but we worked it out. He’s got a temper, doesn’t he?”

  I lowered my head. “Yes, sir.”

  Mark pulled my chin upward. “I don’t have a temper, Amy. You don’t ever have to bow down to me or call me sir.”

  I didn’t believe him, because all men were controlling. “I have to call Randy, too, right?”

  “John’s going to do that. We’re all meeting.”

  “We’re meeting with my brothers? How?”

  “We’re flying to Atlanta to pick up Randy in the morning, then out to Colorado for a few days.”

  “But your job? My job? The plane tickets.”

  “You quit your job.”

  “I did?” I asked. “That’s news to me.”

  “I had one of my guys call it in. You’re done as a bank clerk and you have a new job as soon as you feel safe.”

  “I do?” Everything was so odd all of a sudden. My life was turning upside down.

  The doorbell rang again and Mark stood up to turn off the security alarm. “I’ll explain it to you in a minute.”

  He was insane. I looked at all of the clothes in front of me and sighed. I now had no job, no home and was heading off to see my brothers in the morning. But, to look on the bright side, I got to take the tags off all of these new clothes and add up the final bill. At least then, I’d have a
n idea of how much to pay back Mark and his friends. I wondered how much he had to pay his friends to do such nice things?

  ~~~~~

  Chapter 4

  Mark returned from the door and reset the alarm. He walked into the kitchen then entered the living room with two spoons and a box.

  “What’s this?” I asked.

  “Dessert. We didn’t get any from dinner and I wanted some, so the people who dropped off your clothes brought us some.” He opened the box, revealing two beautiful hot fudge sundaes.

  “And why aren’t you married?”

  He sat down and picked up one of the sundaes. “I didn’t find the right girl before.” He pointed to the other sundae. “Eat it. You’re going to need it. I know I do.”

  “You do? What is it you wanted to tell me?”

  “Let me go back to the beginning. Two days ago, I went to the University in town to see what courses they were offering for some people who work at Madcap. I saw that they offered cryptology classes and looked up the professor who taught it.”

  “Dr. Urban. But why would you be interested in that course?”

  “In a minute. I had a big chat with him and asked him who his best student was. He gave me your name.”

  “He what?”

  “I didn’t know you were taking the data administration course and still had him as a professor.” He took another bite of ice cream, sat it on the coffee table and stood up. He kept glancing at me, then paced.

  “Spit it out, Mark. What happened?”

  “You need some more background information and I’m not sure how to tell you.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, it’s about Madcap Software. I…uh…” He plopped back on the couch. “Madcap is an acronym for something very, uh, personal.”

  “It is?” I wasn’t following this at all, and it seemed to me that he was making more out of it than he needed to. I just watched him stare at me, obviously trying to figure out how to say something. I waited with baited breath. “Tell me! I’m dying here!”

  “Madcap stands for…” He looked at me again. “I don’t know if I want to tell you or not. Only a few people at the company know what it stands for. Do you promise not to tell anyone if I tell you?”

  “Who would I tell?” His stare made me sigh, so I raised my right hand and rolled my eyes. “Fine. I swear not to tell anyone.”

  “Anything else I tell you about the company is confidential and you have to promise to marry me or I can’t tell you.”

  “What?” I got to my feet. “Are you feeling okay? I’ve known you about a day and you want me to marry you?”

  His eyes were glued to mine. “Yes, I do. At least promise you’ll marry me some day. I can’t let this information out.”

  “Let me see if I understand this so far. You went to Dr. Urban and asked for his best student in cryptology. Why would you care? Madcap Software programs games, and does nothing with cryptology, right?”

  He stared at me with those adorable blue eyes. I fell onto the couch beside him and watched him. “They don’t only do games, do they?”

  “No. That’s the front business. They have other businesses to bring in the bulk of the cash.”

  “And I’m guessing one of them is to work with cryptology. Do they do the cryptography end or the cryptanalysis part?”

  He grinned. “Will you promise to marry me now?”

  “I don’t know. That’s kind of sudden, but I know that your secret is very safe with me. Now what does Madcap stand for?”

  He swallowed hard as he stared at me. “Mad stands for Mark Andrew Dallas.”

  I felt all of the blood drain from my face. “What?”

  “Not too many people know I own the company either. They think I’m just a games programmer who’s a really nice guy.”

  “You own Madcap?”

  “Yes, I do. The ‘cap’ part is what’s so secret. It stands for CIA and Army Programming.”

  I put my untouched ice cream sundae on the coffee table, trying to remain calm, but suddenly shook on the inside. “So you work with the government?”

  “Sort of. Let me start at the beginning. When I got out of college, my father told me he wanted me to do something that he didn’t have the opportunity to do. He wanted me to get a Master’s degree. The jobs weren’t very abundant for new graduates at that time, so I got my MBA to make Dad happy. After I graduated, Dad and his associates from the State Department approached me and told me they were doing some work for the CIA. They needed a place where they could get programming done quietly and quickly. They’d help me establish a company that would be a cover for their programming needs, and most of my employees wouldn’t even know about that part of the company. They set it up in Florida because it wouldn’t be in the public eye as much as it would be in Washington, D.C. I’ve never told this story to anyone except for my most trusted and highest level employees. That’s why most of my employees don’t know what Madcap stands for.”

  “You work with the government.” I couldn’t get past that part.

  His face turned confused. “I think I just said that, right?”

  “No, you don’t understand.” I crossed my arms as I faced him. “Dad worked with the government and he told us to never, ever trust anyone showing up at our door who worked for the government. How can I trust you?”

  “I didn’t show up at your door?” he said with the most innocent face ever.

  “Very funny. You just happened to run into me at the beach instead. Was that planned too, since you knew about me from Dr. Urban? You probably did a background check on me to find out where I worked, where I lived and everything else about me, right? I bet your personal army was checking me out, too, which is why your man in black was following me. I also would put money on it that the man in the bank with the jeans and white polo was one of yours too, right?” I already knew the guy was with Madcap, but had to mention it anyway. I wasn’t happy, and Mark knew it.

  “Yes, you’re right about all of it. I guess this means you won’t marry me now, will you?” he asked, wincing.

  I waved him off and turned toward the huge picture window at the side of the room. “You weren’t serious about that anyway, so stop it. You don’t even love me and all marriages should be based on that. What happened next?”

  “I was serious about that,” he said while I turned back toward him. “I do love you, more than you know.”

  I wasn’t buying it and he had to know it from my angry face, but he continued anyway. “After I found out where you worked, I had you tailed to the beach over lunch hour. I was there because I just wanted to meet you. I didn’t know you’d be turning the corner when you did and I really didn’t know you’d be so pretty or nice. That messed with my head, actually.”

  “Oh, really? What were you expecting? An old fat chick? Would you have flirted with her, too?”

  “I wouldn’t have flirted at all, but you were so vulnerable and adorable that I had to ask you out. I also knew Connor had broken up with you that morning, because I had spies listening to your phone conversations at work.”

  I shook my head slowly in disbelief. “You stalked me?”

  “It’s not what you think. Anyway, I had Connor checked out, and he’s not what you think. He has a criminal past.”

  “He does?” I leaned back on the couch.

  “Yes. He used to be a cat burglar, dealing in rare gems and diamonds. When he was in jail, he worked on his degree in psychology and finished up when he got out.”

  My mouth fell open. “So you saved me from a burglar? Do you think he robbed me?”

  “No, because he’s still in jail for assault from this morning. He’s also not married any more. His wife threw him out about a year ago for beating her up. He probably would’ve done the same to you.”

  “I don’t know about that,” I said.

  He nodded. “Oh, yes you do know about that. You told me he was rough when you were drunk.”

  Wow. I guess I talked a lot when I
was drunk. “I told you that?”

  “Yes, and I might have saved your life.”

  “Well, thank you. That still doesn’t excuse the fact that you had me checked out. What did you find?”

  “My people found out that Amy Watson didn’t exist until a few years ago.”

  “No surprise there. You know that, right?”

  “There’s a red flag on your name from the National Security Agency, or NSA. They do know where you are, by the way.”

  I blew out a big breath. “Great. No wonder someone got into my apartment.”

  He shook his head. “It wasn’t them.”

  “How do you know?”

  “They’ve known for five years where you were, ever since you went to France, but they didn’t mention your name changes to me. However, if they were going to get to you, they would have by now.”

  “I thought you said you worked with the CIA and Army. Do you also work with the NSA?” Considering they knew who I was from my coursework, it wasn’t that big a deal for them to know where I lived.

  He studied my face for a minute. “They’re our new clients. They’re sending me a copy of your thesis, by the way.”

  “They’re the only ones who have it. I had to take it off the computer at school, scrub the computer clean, and destroy all copies of it.”

  “So I hear. That brings me to the problem at the beach.”

  I faced him completely and crossed my arms. “I really want to hear this one.”

  “My men were watching you since I talked to Dr. Urban, but for a reason. Someone from another country is after you.”

  My arms fell to my lap. “What?”

  “The NSA has been keeping tabs on you ever since you wrote that thesis. Someone talked to Dr. Urban right before I did, asking him about cryptology students. It seems his class is one of the best in the world for that topic. Anyway, the man who asked was an American, but the NSA had him checked out, at Dr. Urban’s request. It was a man by the name of Bobby Delaney. He was representing someone in China and he told his boss your name. Some men from mainland China were following you and know all about you, so my men were watching you as well. I wouldn’t be surprised if the man in your apartment had something to do with it, looking for your thesis or notes. That might be why they stole old term papers.”

 

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