by Grady, D. R.
Her heart ached for KC and Greg for their own childhood endurances. She had thought losing her mother so early in life was the worst thing that could happen to a child. Darting a look at this well-dressed wicked witch and Daffy Duck in a suit, she revised her theory.
At least she and Greg were having fun. Of a sort.
Janine wondered whether they could make it through the dessert course without giving themselves away. She hoped his parents wouldn’t catch on that she and Greg fought to keep from laughing out loud at this pair who were responsible for bringing these two people who meant so much to her into the world.
She wondered how Greg and KC had managed to turn out so normal.
“I’m so sorry you had to live through that.” Greg sounded sincere as he pulled into her driveway.
Janine slanted a grin at him. “I’m not.”
One of his eyebrows lifted. “You’re not?”
“No, it gave me an insight that just because your parents still live doesn’t mean your childhood was any better than mine.”
He stared out the windshield. “Fortunately for us, KC and I didn’t see much of them while we were growing up.”
“That’s still sad.”
“The servants they employed did more to raise us than our parents ever did. That made our lives bearable.”
Janine wondered if she could make peace with her past like Greg and KC apparently had with theirs. She would never stop mourning the loss of her mother, but now she had another woman who accepted and loved her whole-heartedly who she could call mother, and with that special lady, she also got a man she could call dad. A man who loved and accepted her and who treated her exactly like her three sisters. Her dad was there for her whenever she needed him.
Then there were her three new sisters. Melanie, Stephanie, and Julie all welcomed her with open arms and hearts. She saw them often during the week and was amazed each time by how enriched her life had become because of them and their whole-hearted love.
She didn’t even have to get into all the aunts, uncles, and cousins who were now a permanent part of her life. Her childhood hadn’t been enjoyable. But her adulthood was looking better and better. Maybe it was time to start letting go of a past that only weighed her down.
A knock on her window shattered her thoughts. Janine turned to see KC peering in at them. She and Greg exchanged a look before they exited the vehicle. “So, how was it?”
“Fine,” he lied solemnly.
Janine slanted a sardonic glance at Greg. “It was awful. The mystery meat and vegetables weren’t recognizable at all. I’d have rather eaten in the mess tent in Kuwait.”
KC nodded. “Yeah, I know. What scares me is that they actually pay someone a huge salary to produce that nasty stuff.”
“I think this chef is new. I don’t remember eating anything quite as awful as tonight.”
“When was the last time you’ve had a meal with them?” KC cocked a brow at Greg.
He winced. “True.”
KC accompanied them inside. As usual, her friend made herself at home. “I made some real food for you, it’s in the oven.”
Greg’s stomach growled and she and KC both laughed.
“Yeah, I’ve eaten there before. Anymore, I just make a casserole or something and pop it in the oven for whenever we come home. That way Ryan and Max don’t grumble as much.”
“Good thinking.”
“It works.” KC’s eyes took on a sly undertone. “So, Janine, how did you like your first visit to the Gilmore residence?”
Janine’s lip curled up in disgust. “The best part of the evening was learning all about you, Katrina Celeste.”
KC squawked and Janine laughed, and moved out of the swat zone. “She did not mention my name.”
“Yes, she did. Apparently Janine’s educational opportunities were not like mine and yours, Katrina Celeste.”
This time KC groaned. “No, she did not say that.”
Greg’s mouth went grim. “Oh yes she did. But before I could tell her off, Janine did a great job of it on her own.”
Janine basked in the light of approval in his eyes.
“I’m sure she did,” KC said loyally.
“How did you know your mother mentioned your name and not your dad?”
Greg and KC exchanged a look she couldn’t read. KC turned back to her. “I doubt our father knows my name.”
“What?” Janine blinked as she tried to process that. “What father doesn’t know his own children’s names?”
“We think he knows mine, but he does mess up KC’s.” Greg and KC both nodded while KC rolled her eyes.
“On a happy note, he does remember Ryan’s name and even Max’s most of the time.”
Still blinking, still not comprehending, Janine stared at her friend. “Your father doesn’t know your name is Katrina Celeste?”
KC cringed. “It’s KC, and he usually gets that right.”
“Usually,” Greg agreed and nodded. He also wrapped an arm around her and tugged her close.
“This lug has never forgotten my name.” KC jerked a thumb at Greg, who squeezed her even tighter. So much so that she squawked and flailed to get away from him. “Let go,” KC demanded.
Janine smiled at their banter. It was apparent to her this pair had conducted this scenario before. She suspected they had leaned on each other often in the past.
“If you’re finished,” Janine tried for the same tones their mother had used on her this evening.
It broke up the tableau in a heartbeat.
“You are not allowed to use that tone.” KC pointed her best “Mom” finger at Janine.
“Ever,” Greg added. His expression was almost as fierce as KC’s.
“Yes, Katrina Celeste.” Janine laughed and avoided her friend’s swat again.
“You are such a Morrison. It’s scary.”
Janine grinned. “Yes I am.”
Greg and KC both rolled their eyes.
Chapter 18
Janine eased out of what felt like the eight hundred and seventy fifth John Morris website, but was in reality the fifty-eighth. She clicked onto the fifty-ninth and smothered a yawn. So far her search had produced little results. She’d read some boring blogs, saw some pictures she wished she hadn’t, and learned far more about the many John Morris’s out there in the world, but so far she had learned nothing of her ancestor.
Who she hoped was the long lost brother to Aunt Tilly Morrison Harris. If so she also hoped he proved to be her great-something-grandfather. That would explain so much. Like why she reminded everyone of General Emma. Why she worked so well with her Morrison aunts and cousins. It would give her a connection she longed for more than anything else in the world.
Blue eyes and tussled sun-kissed hair crashed into her thoughts. Okay, except maybe Greg Gilmore. Did she want him? If she could figure that out, it might help matters. Yes, she did want him. But she wanted her family, too.
A family she couldn’t biologically claim until she completed this tedious task. Janine shook her head and peered at website fifty-nine. This one looked different than the others. So, she had to figure out why and move on.
Frowning, she stared at the contents. They didn’t make sense. This site also seemed familiar. She had been on it before. During her initial site search, when she had randomly selected sites to visit before deciding she needed a plan. This particular website had worried her then because she hadn’t wanted Lainy or Emma to visit it. That’s why she took the back third of the John Morris websites and given the front thirds to Lainy and Emma. Now she wasn’t so certain of her decision because Lainy would know what to do about this site, whereas Janine didn’t.
Now she watched a special program pop up to show an icon flipping through a series of data she hadn’t asked it to. She jammed a few keys, and worked to secure her hard drive. If she didn’t know better, she would believe this site had just tried to pirate her computer. The problem was, Janine knew she didn’t know better. Why would an indi
vidual set up a website like this? It was only a matter of time before they were shut down.
She sent an email to a policing site, informing them of her suspicions. Then sat back in her chair, unsure of what to do. Her thoughts returned to Greg. Should she tell him about the site? Maybe she was looking for an excuse to contact him and this provided a legitimate one.
How desperate did a woman have to be to call a man on a lame excuse like, “this website doesn’t look right”? She’d look like a defeated woman wringing her hands. So, no, she wouldn’t contact him about it right now. Later, after she had time to think about it, she might casually mention the site.
What should she do now, though? Did she view the contents? Use the Search tool on the menu? This didn’t look like a site that would provide clues to her ancestry, so Janine wrote down the URL, and moved on to the sixtieth site. She could make a definitive decision later.
Propping her head on a hand, she read through more sites with uninteresting content and viewed hundreds of pictures of people she didn’t know. Or had any connection to. By now, at least one of these families should invite her over for dinner. After that last horrifying picture of Uncle Rufus’s false teeth in the swimming pool, without Uncle Rufus, they at least owed her a home cooked meal.
When her eyelids drooped in fatigue, she finally logged off the internet and shut down her computer. This fruitless search could wait another day. Somewhere in the vast hole of John Morris websites she should be able to find some clue to the man who was hopefully related to her.
Janine pushed away from the desk and as she trailed up the stairs, couldn’t help but feel like a ghostly hand kept trying to snatch her future and dreams from her. Like someone didn’t want her to discover her John Morris. Didn’t want her to discover she was biologically related to the Morrison family.
Her jaw firmed.
Whoever attempted to prevent her wouldn’t succeed.
The fist came out of nowhere, and slammed into her with its usual force. Accuracy wasn’t so much an issue as the power behind the blow. What fueled the need to beat her senseless was anyone’s guess this time. She had washed their clothing and made supper so why tonight? Her homework was nearly finished but it wasn’t near time for bed yet. Why now?
The second blow snapped her against the wall, but with less force than when she was smaller. Janine still felt something break in her right hand as she scrabbled to right herself. She hoped it was just the pencil she’d been holding. Her left hand slid down the wall and he stepped on it when it landed on the floor. Please don’t break... She needed one of those hands to write her test tomorrow. With a quick shift, she hid her left hand behind her.
If she couldn’t take the test, she would never get off this island. Janine centered herself as the fear threatened to overtake her. She needed to go to her special place. If she allowed him to win this round, she would never leave. Escape to her special place was her only option.
Quietly, she took in a steadying breath and entered the world she created for when her uncle beat her. She waited until the sounds of his fists hitting her flesh subsided and instead she heard the crash of waves on the beach. The cry of birds overtook the cries she wanted to shriek but refused to give him the satisfaction. Never.
Instead, she breathed in the scent of the salty air and thought the sunbeams felt good. The birds swooped and called overhead as the waves teased the pebbles on the beach. They beckoned, and some of the pebbles tumbled into the blue depths. Janine followed.
She let the salt water caress her skin and ease the tension from her body. Basking in the sunlight on her face and the warmth the heat provided, Janine tried to remember her mother, a shadowy figure in her memories now. Yet even though the passing years had stolen her mother, she had something else she had discovered recently.
Janine had a brother. Once she left this island, she would earn an education that would ensure she never need return to this place. Instead, she’d find her brother. Janine left the water to lay back on the beach in her special world, and ignored the man beating her.
What would her brother be like?
Tall and lean like her?
Or shorter and bulky like the neighbor boy?
She lost herself in the world she had created to protect herself. Instead of the reality of her world, she allowed images to pass through her mind as she tried to create a picture of her brother. All the while she prayed in the back of her mind that she would be well enough to go to school tomorrow to take that very important test.
The nightmare brought her upright in bed, her heart pounding again. Janine wiped at the sweat that sheened her skin and glanced automatically out the window. The moon wasn’t bright this time and wasn’t framed perfectly in the window, but she could see the slice that showed tonight. It had been full the last time she endured this miserable dream.
Two weeks or so had passed since then. She didn’t even have to question what had brought the dream on. That unsettling website and her subsequent thoughts on the way to bed had triggered the nightmare. But it was true, she did have a brother, and her brother was as precious as her special place. She had managed to take that test so she could leave the island and find her brother.
He was as lean and tall as she. And Ben had skills, and friends with skills who would know what to do with that particular website. They had cousins who would know. Then she wouldn’t need to wring her hands and call Greg.
At least now when she told him, she’d have taken care of the problem. Glancing at the clock told her not only the current time, but also reminded her that they might not have much time.
Who could possibly know Greg’s secret identity? It was mere fluke she had recognized that tattoo on his inner thigh. Who didn’t believe Michael Lamont had died in the same hospital where Greg Gilmore had been born?
Someone who wanted Greg Gilmore to meet the same fate? The Temites? But what if there were other fingers in this particular pie? How on earth would they figure this out before the situation exploded out of control? Greg had already nearly died from a bomb he hadn’t managed to duck in time. At least he set that one himself. [The Nerd and the SEAL]
Janine glanced at the clock again. She pulled the covers over her head and rethought this whole retirement bit.
Greg stumbled onto the site by accident.
“Excellent,” he said to no one in particular as exultation soared through him. With a few keystrokes, he prevented the site from pirating what was on his laptop and instead checked out the contents. This was what troubled him about the John Morris search conducted by the Morrison women.
He understood why Janine and her family searched for the man, but now he remembered this website. Greg hoped Janine hadn’t found it. The site wasn’t one a person should be able to stumble onto. Of course, if her search was quite detailed, then it was possible, but hopefully not probable.
But what about the family members helping her? The Morrisons would have leapt at the chance to assist Janine in the family search. So, which of the Morrison ladies read websites with Janine? Would they know what to do about this site?
He wondered if the trail left by the website would lead him right back to the Temites. Greg hoped it would take him directly to John Temite. After Janine’s damaged tree and then blowing up his car in her driveway, he decided Francis Temite could also be the culprit, but this was John’s M.O. Once the rock was overturned, the insects always scurried.
Greg smiled. Yes, he did enjoy rousing insects out of their hole. Then he stomped. He leaned over the desk and scooped up his cell phone. Time to talk to his friend at the think tank. One of the few persons who knew him as both Greg Gilmore and the former Michael Lamont. He forgot Newton knew both his identities.
“Hello?” The voice sounded distracted, but that didn’t deter Greg. Newton always sounded distracted, even when he wasn’t. Greg had decided years ago to ignore it.
“Newton, it’s Greg.”
“Why was I sure it’d be you?” Newton groused.
>
Greg grinned. “You didn’t have to answer the phone.”
“Might have been someone important.”
Newton’s sense of humor was only equaled by his intellect. “What do you have for me?”
“The Temites have been busy little boys lately.”
“Tell me.” Greg opened his laptop and called up a new document. He could record most of the information in his laptop and encrypt the information after the call.
“They’re definitely not bidding on the small time contracts these days.” Greg heard keys tapping in the background and the sound of papers shuffling. He pictured the scene on the other end of the telephone, knowing Newton probably had teetering stacks of papers surrounding his desk, which held a stained keyboard, and the latest model computer monitor. The CPU would also be up-to-date and fast.
“What are they doing?”
“They’re talking to some pretty big boys.”
“Who?”
“That’s the thing, I can’t figure out who they are. I think you know some of them. Your first job was through the warehouse division.”
Greg paused in his typing and stared at the laptop screen blankly. “Want to run that by me again?”
“Actually, your first job ever with our dear old US of A and Lamont’s last one seem to have converged on each other.”
“What?” Greg blinked as the images of both nights rose up to tighten a constricting band around his chest. Breathe, already, breathe.
“That first assignment, those big boys, the,” more paper rustling before he heard keystrokes, “United Guerilla Warfare Society, interesting name, by the way, and,” more scrabblings among the papers and more tapping keys, “The Reveres for Arabic Freedom group, who Lamont blasted into oblivion on a fine day nearly nine months ago—”
“Newton, he took all of them out,” Greg reminded him.
“Yes, I know. The government official on our end was singularly taken out, too. But, they worked in conjunction with some group called,” Greg heard Newton’s chair spin and creak and figured he swung around to his backup computer.