by Dale Mayer
When she couldn’t see anything, she straightened and returned to the cabin. It no longer felt so nice or quiet to be here. Too many things were going on. And being exposed outdoors, … well, that just gave her a creepy feeling.
As she wandered up the path, she thought she heard the same sound again, off to the left. Maybe more like the crunch of dead leaves on the ground? Was she being followed? She turned to look but still couldn’t see anything. Rather than be afraid of every little thing, she was determined to take a look. Besides, if she screamed, the men would come to her aid. She took a deep breath and took several steps in that direction.
“What did you hear?” Corey asked.
She spun, looked up at the cabin and saw him on the deck. She rushed to stand underneath him. “Twice I heard a noise off to the side of the cabin.”
He gave her a hard glance. “And you thought you could check it out yourself?”
She shrugged. “You’re busy.”
He snorted and came down the stairs—was at her side almost instantly.
She hadn’t realized he could move like that.
“Somebody is after you. You’ve received death threats. You’re in possession of blackmail material a lot of people would go after you for, not just Greg but every person’s face in those photos. And you think, because I’m busy looking at the material, I want you wandering around on your own?”
Maybe it was something to do with his tone of voice, maybe it was his wording, she didn’t know, but she got her back up. She glared at him. “I’ve been on my own for a long time now, thank you,” she snapped. “I don’t need a bodyguard to look after me.”
Instead of being put off by her tone, he just stared at her quietly but didn’t back down.
Almost as instantly as her temper had flared, it just as quickly dropped off. “Okay, so I haven’t done all that well on my own,” she said in frustration. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t walk around a little.”
He held out an elbow. “Hook your arm through mine, and we’ll walk together.”
She did so, feeling strange. It was how they always used to walk together. During class, after class, the two of them, alone against the world. She shook her head, trying to shrug off the memories.
“You feel it too, don’t you?”
“I don’t feel anything,” she said quietly. “It was a long time ago.”
“It was. And we’ve both grown up. I’m delighted you’ve gone on to have a family. Never happened for me. And for that I was always very sad.”
“You’re still young. It’s not like you can’t have that family.”
“True enough. But I haven’t met the right woman yet.”
They wandered around the property as if searching for whatever she’d heard. But she’d long ago given up worrying about it. She could see his gaze going from tree to tree, searching, peering, looking for whatever it was that might have disturbed her. Finally she came to a stop, looked around and said, “It couldn’t have been this far away, I wouldn’t have heard it.”
“Maybe not.” He turned and led her back toward the cabin. “But I don’t want you going anywhere alone anymore.”
“And yet you let me go down to the dock on my own,”
“Not really. You went, but I was on the deck watching you.”
“You didn’t see anything?”
“No, I didn’t. I did hear a couple things, but one was a rabbit moving in the underbrush, and the other was a doe at the edge of the clearing.”
“As long as it’s not armed two-legged animals, I don’t care.”
He squeezed her arm a little closer against his body and nodded. “At least the four-legged ones have a reason for doing what they’re doing. The two-legged ones, sometimes they’re just hard to understand.”
Silence stood between them for a time.
Out of the blue he asked, “Were you at least happy for some of those years you were with him?”
“Yes. At the beginning. But apparently I didn’t really understand who I was back then. I would never have thought I was naive or ignorant. It’s almost like he took who and what I was and shaped me the way he wanted me to be.”
“Was he unhappy with the result?”
She winced. “Ouch.”
He glanced at her sideways. “It’s not a criticism of you. But if he made you the way he wanted you, and then was happy to discard you …”
“Still, it’s an ouch when you put it that way. Nobody wants to think of themselves as being discarded.”
“No. In this case, set free might be a better phrase. You’re obviously not living life to the fullest, so this is a perfect opportunity to make some major changes.”
She nodded. “Doesn’t mean I was ready for that change though.”
“See? That’s the thing. Changes like that, those we don’t have a choice about as to when or how, it’s all about adapting.”
Back at the cabin he took her into the living room. Warrick was on the phone. Too bad. They should have stayed out a little longer. She hated knowing everyone was making arrangements and gathering information but not necessarily sharing.
However, as soon as they stepped in, Warrick stopped the conversation. He smiled up at Angela and said, “Do you feel better now?” He studied her face. “You look better. A little calmer, a little more at ease.”
“Not sure why I should be. I kept hearing sounds outside. Every time I did, I was thinking there was an intruder following me.”
“And you should keep that thought foremost in your mind. It will help keep you safer.”
“How does that work? I was down there at the end of the dock. I don’t have any weapons or self-defense skills. I’m coming to realize I was more of a trophy wife than anything, I have few useful skills and even less life skills,” she said with the hint of bitterness entering her voice.
“I wouldn’t worry about it. You have the rest of your life to be whoever and whatever you want to be. Having made some decisions, you’re less unhappy with who you are now as you see yourself a little clearer. You’ll make better decisions from now on. But you still need to go easy on yourself. This transition will take time.”
“Are you always so optimistic?” she asked, sitting down beside Warrick.
“No, not always. But it’s part of my nature.”
“Did you find out anything else?” She pointed to the laptops. “Anything useful?”
“The spreadsheets do appear to be payouts. But it’s in some kind of code. We’ll need time to break it. And, yes, I phoned the cops. Yes, I’ve handed over a lot of the information.”
She stared at him. “Already? Without talking to me?” She bounded to her feet, outrage rippling through her.
Corey stepped in front of her. “Easy. Just because we’ve handed over the information doesn’t mean we don’t have copies of it ourselves.”
She looked at him, her expression a cross between anger and tearful sadness. He shook his head, reached out and tucked her into his arms. “You’re not alone anymore. Let somebody else help you.”
“Help me do what? There isn’t even a way forward from here.”
“No, there are several ways forward,” he corrected. “And the good thing is, you have other people to help you follow those trails.”
“But the police?” She pulled back so she could look into his face. “What if Greg owns them too? I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t have dozens of law enforcement officers, lawyers and even judges in his pocket.”
Corey looked down at her and frowned. “Do you have any reason to think he might?”
“I don’t have any proof of anything. But he’s that kind of a man.”
“But not all police are that kind of police. We have to trust most are honest and care about doing right and upholding the law.”
She groaned. “But if it comes back to Greg that I handed over this information …”
“He will try to get lawyers to say you concocted this stuff or stole it off the net and handed it over to
make him look like the bad guy,” Warrick said.
“How is it you already think like that?” she asked in wonder. “And, if he does do that, how do I counter his words?”
“First things first. Let the police do their job. We will follow up on our side, keep track of the information, see if we can hunt down the faces in the pictures, follow the money trail in the spreadsheets.”
She shook her head. “But you’re navy? How does that have anything to do with this?”
Both men winced. “Hey now, that’s almost an insult. Sure, we’re part of the navy. In an elite group.” He gave her a crooked grin.
“But you’re not police. You’re not special investigators. You’re not detectives or private investigators or anybody along those lines.”
Warrick looked up. “You wound me. I’ve done plenty of this kind of work on missions.”
“What kind of work?” She stepped out of Corey’s arms and walked over to where Warrick sat. “Have you done any law enforcement work or investigative type of work?”
“It’s called gathering intel. And, yes, I’ve done lots of it. But just because we’ve spent most of our time doing covert operations doesn’t mean we don’t understand how your husband operates.”
“Ex-husband or will be as soon as I can process the paperwork,” she corrected softly. “And maybe not even that if he married the mother of his other son.” She spun toward Corey. “Any way to find out if our marriage is legal?”
He studied her for a long moment. “You think Greg might have married the other woman first?”
She nodded. “I can always hope.”
“You don’t want to be married to him?”
“It’s an expensive process to get unmarried,” she said. “I don’t have the money. I’d like to have as few ties as possible to Greg.”
Corey motioned to the couch. “Come and sit down beside me.” He brought up the registry on his laptop and typed in her name. Up came the marriage to Greg. “His last name is Buffalo?”
“Yes. I’m now Angela Buffalo.”
“Interesting.”
He typed in Buffalo’s name, and again her marriage came up. Then he started digging into divorces. “He could have married in another state. Were you always in California?”
“Yes, but he was originally from New York, I believe.”
She watched as he clicked through database after database.
“It does say your marriage license is registered in California though, so chances are it is legal. And, so far, a search isn’t showing up other marriages. But he probably used a different name if he did.”
She stared across the room. “Too bad I don’t have knowledge of any aliases Greg might have used. I was trying to figure out how to get a divorce without it killing me financially.”
“Make him pay for it. He has plans and lots of them. He won’t want to hang on to an ex-wife, not when he can take care of the financial issues very quickly.”
“Maybe,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean he plans to spend any money on me.”
Just then her phone rang. She picked it up and looked at it. She spun slowly. “It’s Greg.”
“Answer it, but put it on Speaker.”
She nodded, clicked Talk and said, “Hello, Greg. What do you want?”
“How are you? I hear you ran away. Stress too much for you?” His tone was mocking, brutal, degrading. “After all, you’re a fragile neurotic woman.”
She reached up and pinched the bridge of her nose. “No, I haven’t run away. If that were the case, I wouldn’t be answering the phone. How is Joshua?”
“My son is fine,” he said smoothly. “He no longer even asks for you. At that age you forget very quickly.”
It was all she could do to not scream and stomp her foot. “I want to talk to him,” she said firmly.
“That’s nice, but you don’t get what you want.”
“So why did you call? Just to torment me?”
“You have something of mine, I believe.”
Her gaze flew to Corey and Warrick. “What are you talking about? I don’t have anything.”
“Oh, I believe you do. I believe you stole something that matters a great deal.”
“I don’t have anything, and I didn’t steal anything.” Her stomach started to churn. “Whoever said I did is a liar,” she bit off.
“Are you saying your son’s a liar?”
“So now he’s my son. When he’s a liar, he’s my son. But when he’s not, he’s your son?”
It was all she could do to hold back the cynicism in her tone, but she was afraid now she knew what this call was about.
“According to him, you took something from that envelope.”
“What envelope?” she asked.
“An envelope on my desk in my office. Enough of this. I want it back. And I want it back now.” He hung up with a sharp click.
*
Corey took the phone from her frozen fingers. “Did you take something from that envelope?”
She looked at him and nodded. “I did. I wasn’t thinking. Joshua was bored and started running around. I told him to leave Daddy’s things alone but he brought me these photos. I went to put them back and realized what they were. So I took a few photos, moving Greg’s photos around. While I wasn’t looking Joshua had picked up this piece of paper, but Greg was coming back, so I took it out of his hand and slipped it into my pocket.”
“What is it?”
She looked up at him, shamefaced. “I would have put it back if I had realized but I was trying to protect Joshua. Greg angers easily.”
“Tell me what it is.”
She looked at him for a long moment, then glanced at Warrick who stared at her intently. She walked over to her purse, pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to him.
Without a word he opened it and stared. “These are bank account numbers.”
She took a deep breath. “I don’t know if they are or aren’t. I was trying to take a picture of them. But, like I said, I had moved some of the photos around, and I could hear him coming, and I panicked. I just … I just stuck it in my pocket and raced over to pick up a pillow, like Joshua and I were playing. I was trying so hard not to let Greg know I’d seen anything.”
“So you actually took away this piece of paper with the account numbers on it?”
“I didn’t know they were account numbers. They were just numbers. And I was waiting for him to leave so I could put it back again. But he never did.”
The two men looked at each other. “Not only could these be account numbers he needed but they could be the numbers where the blackmail money was deposited.”
“Yes, but why would he have it with the photos? That should be something he kept separate.”
Corey glanced at the numbers again—nothing but two separate sets of digits. He held it up for Warrick to look at. Warrick studied them, opened up a document on his laptop and typed them in. Corey put the slip of paper on the table, took out his phone and took a picture of it. “Did you take anything else?”
“I didn’t, and, if I could have, I would have put that piece of paper back,” she said painfully. “I just don’t have any reason why I did that. I should have just put it back under the photos.” She reached up and rubbed her temple. “I’m in such shit.”
“This happened a few weeks ago?”
“Yes, two weeks ago.” She frowned. “So why would he worry about it now?” Then her face cleared. “Unless Joshua just spoke up. That’s the only connection there could be.”
“Greg also might not have needed those accounts all the time. Or those numbers could be somebody else’s accounts he tucked in there for safekeeping. Maybe he went to look for it, couldn’t find it and got angry, and your son mentioned it.”
She nodded and sat straight in the chair. “What am I going to do now?”
“I need to give this to the detective.” Warrick grabbed his phone and dialed. While Angela and Corey listened, he explained to the detective abo
ut the phone call from Greg and the paper Angela had. “I’m thinking they’re account numbers.”
He read off the numbers. A minute later he hung up and said, “The detective is looking into it. They’ll be able to track the bank accounts pretty easily. I’ll be checking as well, but it’ll take me a little bit.” He glanced at the sandwiches. “Corey, toss me one, will you?”
Corey pulled one out for Warrick and grabbed one for himself. He looked at Angela, asking silently if she wanted another one.
She shook her head. “I can’t eat anything. My stomach is sick right now.” She rubbed her face. “I hope he didn’t punish Joshua.”
“There’s no reason to. He’s a child. He wouldn’t know what he’d seen before was important. If he only just now told his father, it’s because his father only just now went looking for them.”
“The worst of the threats started right afterward.” She shook her head. “Maybe if I just lie low, the police can solve this, and I can get back to having a life.”
“You have clients, businesses you can focus on. You’ll need to make money one way or another.”
She held up her hands, and they were shaking. “How am I supposed to work like this?”
Corey grabbed her hands and rubbed them together. They were like ice cubes. “Look. Nobody’s saying exactly what those numbers are yet. Let’s just stay calm and see what turns up.”
They sat together on the couch while he ate his sandwich. When his phone rang, and he saw his sister’s ID, he smiled. “Hey, sis. What’s up?”
“Did you find her?”
Corey realized he hadn’t contacted Bridget to say all was well. “Yes, I did. She’s sitting right beside me.”
“Really? Oh, that’s great.” Then her voice changed. “The least you could have done was texted me.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Bridget. But she is here. She is alive and well.”