by Freda, Paula
Louis inquired, "Are either of you hungry. It's almost noon. Not much left in the fridge, and I didn't replenish the groceries as I'm leaving in the morning for New York. My publisher wants to discuss certain revisions to my book in person. Why don't you both shop for some groceries and maybe stop off for lunch."
Jim nodded. "Yes, certainly. It's a beautiful day. Clean, fresh air and different settings will ease tension and restore balance. What do you think, JoAnn?"
She nodded and glanced at her brother. "Want to come with us?" she asked.
"No, I have last minute packing to do and final arrangements to make for my trip. I have a couple of sandwiches left and if you bring home a variety of groceries, I'll make supper tonight."
JoAnn smiled. "Thanks, Bro. I'll get my jacket." She addressed Jim. "You might need an extra layer. It is a beautiful day, but it's cold up here."
"Right," he agreed. Her brave facade did not fool him. Sadness tinged her eyes. Odd, how he had never noticed how dark blue was their color. And how compelling that deep blue made her expression.
CHAPTER EIGHT
That afternoon, Jim called his father to tell him he had found JoAnn. Following a sigh of relief, his father exhorted, "Please clear up your internal affairs. We have a business to run."
"Don't worry, Dad, when I return with or without JoAnn, I'll know one way or the other where my feelings dwell, and get back to work."
"All right, son. As your mother likes to say, a happy man's mind tends to be clear and productive. Find your happiness, son. Then all else will fall into place."
Easier said than done. Jim kept the thought to himself. It was not only his happiness, but also the happiness of a young woman he considered indispensable. Was this love? he wondered, as he sat opposite JoAnn in the diner booth.
His cell phone played chopsticks, alerting him to a call from his dad's line at the office. "Dad?" he answered the call. His father sounded agitated. "Jim, what's going on? What haven't you told me?" Before he could reply, his father went on, "Someone broke into the firm and ransacked your office, the file cabinets particularly. The detective assigned to the case, Detective Justin Harkins, from our local precinct, believes whoever did this was looking for a particular file. We checked carefully and nothing was taken, except the Alliston file. That's when I recalled that you took the Alliston file with you. Before you left, you mentioned coming across new information that might help prove the client's innocence, and possibly point to the true culprit."
His father's voice dropped to a whisper. "Jim, you may be in danger."
"And JoAnn as well," Jim said. She knew most of the case's details, had typed most of the hard copies in the file.
"Did they get to my computer?" Jim asked anxiously.
"No, and that seemed odd. But the thief must know we don't keep sensitive information on the computer for fear of hackers, despite the firewalls and spyware we utilize. Makes me glad our firm is a bit old-fashioned on that aspect."
"Getting back to what I said before," his father again lowered his voice," whoever broke into the firm, may already have gotten to your apartment. Detective Harkins has gone there now, to find out. And if your apartment has been ransacked as well, then the culprit may guess that you've taken the file and your laptop with you. He may already know where you are staying."
Jim swallowed nervously. My God, he worried, have I put JoAnn and her brother in danger. My sweet JoAnn, he thought anxiously.
"Dad, call me immediately as soon you hear from Harkins."
"I will, son. Take the necessary safety precautions." A slight pause heavy with concern, then, "Your mother and I love you very much."
"Thanks Dad. And vice versa, Dad," he said. With another anxious pang, he realized that his parents were also in danger. As it was a logical assumption for the thief to assume that his parents would probably know where their son had gone.
CHAPTER NINE
"What's wrong?" JoAnn asked, reading the worry on Jim's face. Replacing his cell phone in his jean's side pocket, Jim hesitated explaining, but he knew he had to. She was directly involved with him in the danger. "You remember the Alliston file and the notes I dictated about my suspicions as to the identity of the true embezzler?"
JoAnn nodded. "Yes, that was one of the cases that needed your urgent attention."
"It's the file I brought up with me. Somehow the man I suspect as the true culprit in this case, found out about my suspicions and my efforts to prove his guilt. Except for my dictation on the file that you transcribed and added to the hard copy of my private file on the case, no one knew of my deductive conclusion. I needed additional proof before I could add the information to the official file for the scheduled court hearing to decide whether to indict Alliston for embezzlement of company funds."
"Yes, I remember," JoAnn reiterated. "Alliston was the bookkeeper for F. M., Inc., a brokerage firm."
Jim and Harold's law firm had previously represented the embezzled corporation in unrelated suits. JoAnn and both lawyers and their secretaries were called to the precinct to represent the embezzled firm after E.J. Stanton, the company's president, discovered and reported to the authorities a $100,000 dollar unexplained deficit. Alliston was accused of embezzlement, but Jim felt Stanton's evidence accusing Alliston was dubious and decided to represent the accused Treasurer. No such money was found deposited into any account relating to Alliston's personal finances. The man swore he was innocent. But he was the most likely suspect since he handled all the company's finances. Jim took the case and hired a P.I. to investigate. Although the P.I. found no authentic proof that would stand up in court, he did lead Jim to form certain conclusions about who might have been the actual embezzler.
"And you remember who I mentioned in my notes," Jim whispered.
"Yes, I do." JoAnn answered. "But those suspicions were never made public."
"Nevertheless, my office was broken into and files searched. Nothing was discovered missing except the file I carried with me in my briefcase."
"Alliston's," JoAnn said, shakily."
Jim nodded.
"We are all in danger, aren't we?" JoAnn said.
"Yes we are," Jim replied. "There's already been one murder committed relative to this case."
Quickly, JoAnn drew her cell phone and called her brother. "I'll explain when we get back, but lock all the doors and the windows, and don't open the door to anyone."
"What's going on!" Louis demanded.
"No questions, please. Just wait until Jim and I get back. We'll explain. But it's imperative to listen to me. Please."
A moment's hesitation, then, "All right, sis. Both of you come right home."
"We will. Thanks, brother."
On their way back to the cabin, Jim's father called again. Utilizing his hands free cell phone clipped to his ear, he quickly answered the call. His fists clenched about the steering wheel, as he fought to maintain his calm and his mind on his driving. By the time the call ended, color had drained from his face.
"What is it? What's happened?"
Without turning his head to avoid taking his eyes off the road and giving in to trepidation, Jim replied, "My apartment was broken into and ransacked. Again nothing was taken." He took a deep breath. "And the P.I. I hired to investigate the Alliston case, has gone missing. My father and mother have gone to the police, but they know nothing about who I suspected. They have said as much to the authorities. Hopefully, at least that will convince him they know nothing and keep him away from them."
"Do you think he already knows where we are?"
Jim answered simply, "Yes."
CHAPTER TEN
"Keep checking the rear view mirror to see if anyone is following us," Jim said.
Heart throbbing fearfully, JoAnn pressed the buttons on her side that locked the doors and shut the windows, then watched the rear view and the outside mirror on her side. She breathed a sigh of tentative relief when they arrived at the cabin. They quickly alighted, grabbed the groceries and kn
ocked on the door. As cautioned, Louis peered through the window before unlocking the door."
"Did you lock all the windows, and the back entrance?" JoAnn asked as they piled into the kitchen.
"Yes, everything is locked." He glanced at Jim. "So what is going on?"
Leaving out proper names, Jim explained.
Are you sure about this?" Louis asked, stunned.
Jim nodded.
"Who is it?" Louis asked.
"I'm not saying. I don't want to involve you any more than you are."
"Does JoAnn know?"
"Unfortunately, yes. She typed out my notes."
"We should call the police," Louis said.
"We can," Jim replied, "but I have no tangible proof. Our firm will be sued for slander when I can't prove my suspicions."
"Well, what course do you have left?
"Only one. Continue with my investigation, find the proof that will stand up in court, and then notify the authorities."
"That's if whoever it is, let's us live long enough," Louis said. "All right, I'll call my publisher and tell her I can't make it this week."
"No, don't do that," Jim said. "That's a dead giveaway that you know what's happening. Go to New York as if nothing's amiss. If you find JoAnn's apartment ransacked as well, call the police and report the break-in, but give no one any indication you suspect the reason. Again, if the culprit believes you know nothing, he'll concentrate on me and JoAnn alone."
"Don't tell anyone you know where we are." JoAnn said. "Don't contact me."
"Won't it raise suspicions," Jim asked, "if I don't call to tell you about a break-in at your apartment, if it happened?"
JoAnn paused, biting her lip. Yes, he had a point. And this was only the tip of the iceberg. She knew who Jim suspected. He was young, smart and very capable of tapping into their phone conversations, landline and cell phone. He might already have heard her tell Louis that they would explain when they arrived back. She gazed at Jim warily. "What if he has already tapped our phones?"
The very question Jim had been mulling over since she contacted her brother during their drive back to the cabin. He'd labeled her wise and resourceful. As he expected, she did not expand her cell phone conversation with her brother.
"There's a simple solution, Jim said." Joann will leave an answering message, saying she's gone on vacation for a few weeks, and doesn't want to talk to, or see anyone."
JoAnn nodded. "Yes, that's a solution," she addressed Louis. "If my apartment has been searched, make sure your message sounds non-plussed and anxious. Ask me to call you when I get the message. Use these words: You said you would explain, but you didn't. And Now this. What's going on? Make yourself sound as reasonably uninformed as possible."
Louis' expression read skeptical.
JoAnn urged, "I'm sure we haven't covered all contingencies, but it's the best we can come up with at the moment."
Louis grimaced. "All right," he said. "I'll leave in the morning as originally planned. At least I'll be here overnight if whoever he is does show up."
Looking bleak, JoAnn hugged herself. Jim noticed and moved close to her and placed his arm around her shoulders. She gazed at him and he saw the threat of tears hammering in her eyes. He drew her closer. "Don't dwell on the worst of it. We'll go over the file until I find the proof I need and then we'll contact the authorities. I don't want anything bad happening to you, when you are the best thing that ever happened to me."
JoAnn sent him a timid smile. Timid, but filled with trust. Jim squeezed her shoulders gently. Yes, the best thing that ever happened to him. Why had it taken him this long to realize how much she meant to him.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Detective Justin Harkins stood in the center of JoAnn's living room. What a mess! he thought. Couch overturned, pillows scattered, drawers emptied and the rest of her apartment similarly ransacked. Louis who had arrived from Montreal that morning, was to stay in JoAnn's apartment for a couple of weeks, while he worked with his New York publisher on his new book. He had called the police the moment he arrived at the apartment. The door had been forced open. Detective Harkins was convinced that the party responsible for the break-ins in Jim Nelson's office and apartment, and now this one, were one and the same.
Jim and his secretary were nowhere to be found. And he suspected that Harold Nelson and JoAnn's brother, Louis, both presently at the station, filling out a report, were not revealing the complete truth, or whom they suspected. He understood somewhat their reluctance to blame anyone. Nelson, Sr., was a lawyer and had no wish to involve his firm in a defamation suit.
The Alliston File was the only hanging file discovered empty. And since the break-ins, one woman has been killed — the President's secretary, and two men have gone missing — Alliston, the bookkeeper for F. M., Inc., and the private eye hired to investigate the case, Briars, a regular with the Law firm.
Harkins had questioned all the employees at the Law Firm. Everyone opined that JoAnn first and Jim next, had gone to Montreal, to the cabin owned by JoAnn's brother. A security check of the airport log had confirmed the two had taken separate flights to Montreal. His next step was to visit the cabin and question both, despite the message JoAnn had left on her brother's cell phone and the landline at the cabin, that she was not there and did not wish to be found. Detective Harkins strongly suspected that Jim and JoAnn were purposely leaving hints and clues indicating that they were not at the cabin, but gone elsewhere, to mislead the guilty party. No doubt, they feared for their safety.
He told no one, especially the Nelsons, that he was taking a private plane to Montreal.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The cabin nestled quietly beside the soft blue placid lake bounded by the mixed woodland of the Saint Lawrence lowlands. With winter fast approaching, generous amounts of snow sprinkled the hilly terrain that formed a green and white cloak around the shoulders of the deciduous forest. Outside the cabin the forest teemed with wildlife prey and predators — white-tailed deer and moose, red squirrels, black bears, bluebirds, cardinals, blackbirds, badgers, owls, among others, shared and hunted and fed in the forest, and on the lake's varied species of lake fish, trout among them.
Inside the locked cabin, all was silent. From outside, no one human would guess that a man and a woman hid. No smoke issued from the chimney. No lights shone in the windows. No odors of cooked food, no shadows behind curtains and window shades.
Fortunately, JoAnn had stocked up on healthy beverages, cold cuts, bread, and fruits and nuts. Both she and Jim ate sparingly to stretch the food supply, and slept in the dark in the living room under wool blankets and thick comforters. Jim felt sure the guilty party whom he refused to name until he'd found proof that would stand up in court, was bound to make an appearance. He had taken down the rifle that hung over the fireplace, and readied it for loading, if necessary, to protect their lives.
Shades and curtains drawn, JoAnn sat cocooned in a neutral colored comforter on the area rug, resting her head against the rustic base of the brown leather couch, with Jim beside her wrapped in a plaid wool blanket. Even with the warm coverings, the early winter cold outside the cabin penetrated the fireless room and sent chills up JoAnn's back. Jim felt her shiver and spread his blanket over her shoulders, comforter and all, drawing her close.
Anyone managing to catch a glimpse of the cabin's darkened interior through an uncaught gap in the shades or the curtains would see only the back of the couch. The two huddled figures leaning against its base remained unseen.
JoAnn fought to stay awake, but the ensuing warmth generated by the closeness of the man she had loved for a long time, the way his arm was stretched about her protectively, the lingering smell of his aftershave, and the hope within her that it would all end safely, were too much for her tired mind and body. Her head lolled on his shoulder and she fell asleep.
Jim gazed down at JoAnn's face, and his heart warmed with tenderness for this young woman whose life was in danger because of him. Yet, not
a word of complaint, to which she had every right. He rested his head against the pale blonde hair, silken against his cheek. Although it would not have mattered to him either way, he knew for a fact that the hair color — more to her credit — was her own.
She was lovely, both facially and aesthetically. Lovely in body and soul. He had never failed to notice how at the beginning of a meal, on those times he took her to lunch or dinner, she signed herself, and said a quiet prayer, unafraid and uncaring who saw her. Feisty, resourceful, intelligent, yet at the same time naturally kind, gentle and shy, this was the woman asleep, head resting on his shoulder. Lexie had shared several of JoAnn's characteristics, except for a very important one. She did not love him, and never would love him the way JoAnn did. Slow to him coming, but suddenly obvious and undeniable, the realization that he could never have loved Lexie the way he'd begun to love JoAnn.
Engrossed in his thoughts of blossoming love, he almost did not hear the jiggle of the door lock unlatching.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The silence in the room amplified the sound of the door lock unlatching. Jim tensed. Adrenaline flowed into his arms and legs. He listened intently to make sure he had not imagined the sound. The doorknob turning slowly, as quietly as possible, alerted Jim that someone had used a key and was entering the cabin.
He placed his hand gently on JoAnn's lips and whispered into her ear, "JoAnn, dearest, don't make a sound."
As he expected, she started to say something as she woke to his warning. He pressed his hand against her lips, as gently as he dare to avoid frightening her and to keep her silent. "It's all right; it's me. Don't move, don't make a sound. Someone is entering through the front door."