[Elizabeth McClaine 03.0] A Stolen Woman

by Catherine Lea

  “So, you knew that each of the clients was placed in a facility run by Aden Falls.”

  “If they’re searching for accommodation and choose to accept funding, then yes. Is there a problem, my dear?”

  “My funding applications are supposed to include a list of available accommodations. They’re supposed to suggest alternative accommodations should they be needed. What’s gone out looks like some kind of ultimatum. That if they don’t go to an Aden Falls facility, they don’t get funding.”

  “I can’t see a problem here, Elizabeth. If that’s what they choose, that’s what they choose. And we all know that accommodation for the disabled isn’t exactly easy to find these days.”

  Ignoring the comment, Elizabeth stuck with her line of questioning. “So, you’re saying that’s how the documents arrive to you? With that clause attached?”

  “Well, of course.” He frowned, perhaps a little puzzled by the question.

  “And then what happens?”

  “I sign them, arrange for the funds to be allocated, and then forward copies to Grant, and each of the agencies involved.”

  “And you’ve never…” She shook her head briefly, searching for the right words. “You haven’t changed anything on them?”

  The smile might have looked genuine to anyone who didn’t know Kyle Hendry. Elizabeth recognized it as a sign of utter offense. “Elizabeth, they’re legal documents. Yes, I sign them. But I’m not authorized to change the content of them. That would be—”

  “No, no.”

  “—illegal, not to mention unethical.”

  “No, please, I didn’t mean to suggest that you’d do anything of the kind. I was just…” She shook her head, then met his gaze. “It doesn’t matter.”

  Despite the confident response, her heart was in the pit of her stomach. Why hadn’t she checked each one? How could she have made one stupid mistake that had been replicated over and over without her knowledge, and impacted the lives of at least fifteen young disabled people? Right now, she wanted to hide herself away somewhere.

  On the other side of the desk, Kyle tipped his head, trying to catch her eye. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  She took a shuddering breath and picked up her purse. “No, that’s all I needed. Thank you.”

  She was about to get up, when he said, “Can I just ask you, Elizabeth…”

  She looked up, dreading his asking for further explanation.

  “If I’m reading this right, I’m guessing some of your clients ended up being referred to those facilities in error.”

  Sitting again and fumbling with her purse on her lap, she nodded. “I’ve done something completely stupid, Kyle. I attached that clause referring one client to Aden Falls. It just happened there were no community homes available, and there was no choice. But I didn’t delete it.” She blinked at a spot on his desk just in front of her, not wishing to meet his gaze. Finally, she looked up, met by a look of sympathetic warmth in his eyes.

  “Now fifteen young people have been sent to the very facilities I abhor, just because of my own stupidity.” She sat ready to take her medicine, self-reproach burning in her chest. “I have no idea what I should say to their families.”

  “Elizabeth.” He reached a hand out across the desk, palm up.

  Reluctantly, she responded by placing her hand in it. His big fist closed on it and squeezed. A fatherly gesture.

  “My dear, most of those young people didn’t have families. Which was why they needed your help. They were fortunate to have had you there for them.”

  “It still shouldn’t have happened. And if that ghastly reporter hadn’t pointed it out in her article, I’d never have known.”

  “Have you taken the clause out of the documents on your phone now?”

  Still mentally kicking herself, she shook her head again. “No.”

  “Why don’t you do it now?”

  She plucked the phone from her purse and swiped the screen. After a moment or two, she drilled down and found the template. Looked it over. Then frowned.

  “This is the template I use. But the clause isn’t on here.”

  “And that’s definitely the one you use?”

  “Of course. I have it on my computer in my office, but if I’m visiting a client, this is what I use.”

  “Hm,” he said and plucked a pair of gold-rimmed eyeglasses from his shirt pocket, which he slipped on. “May I?”

  He reached out a hand and she passed him the phone.

  She watched as he scrolled through various apps, squinting into the screen, swiping and stopping, then swiping again. “How do you normally send your documentation? For example, how do you send me the applications for funding?”

  “Just hit send, I guess.”

  “And then where does it go?” He swiped again on the screen.

  She lifted her head, trying to see what he was doing. “To my office. It saves a copy, then goes out to you.”

  He paused, eyeing her over the top of his eyeglasses. “So, I’m assuming you use the company intranet?”

  “Are you suggesting someone from the company is tampering with the documents before they get to you?”

  He continued searching from screen to screen. “Not at all. I just want to make sure it doesn’t go anywhere else. Ah, here it is.” He tapped a finger twice on the face of the phone. “There, all done.” He handed it back.

  She studied the screen, which now showed the home page. “What did you do?”

  “I simply marked an option on the document to not include attachments.”

  Her shoulders dropped in relief. “You are such a sweet man. Thank you. I wish I knew more about these things. The last time I spoke to someone from the IT department, he might as well have been speaking Swahili.”

  He smiled. “No problem.”

  Keeping her eyes down as she put her phone into her purse, she cautiously said, “By the way, what do you know about a guy named Gate Westrum?”

  She looked up to gauge his reaction.

  Kyle sat back, his expression doubtful, and took a deep breath before answering. “Well, I’ve heard of him, of course. Apparently, he decided to try his hand at blackmail. Unsuccessfully, it seems.”

  “So Grant said.”

  “That’s all I heard. I couldn’t give you any more details than that.”

  Right then, her phone rang, cutting him off.

  “Sorry, I should have muted that.” She leaned down to switch the phone to mute, noticing the call was from Charles.

  “It’s Charles. I’d better take this. Will you excuse me a moment?”

  The minute she answered, Charles barked down the phone, “Where are you?”

  “I’m with Kyle, as a matter of fact.”

  “Then I want you here, in my office, in five minutes.”

  She’d never heard him sound so furious. She wanted to make up an excuse. She wanted to run and hide until he’d calmed down. Or at least stay out of the firing line until she had something to give him.

  Instead, she plucked up courage, and said, “May I ask what it’s about?”

  “I’ll give you two guesses,” he said, and hung up.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  DAY TWO—5:54 PM—ELIZABETH

  Charles McClaine left her waiting outside his office for ten minutes, sitting there with only his PA, who made a point of ignoring her. Clutching her purse close on her lap and letting her gaze waft across each of the paintings on the wall, she felt like a kid sent to the principal’s office. But what had she done? Made one mistake, that’s what.

  Then she thought about those fifteen young disabled people—people who had depended on her trust in times of need, people who had been told they wouldn’t have access to her help unless they chose Aden Falls to accommodate them.

  Manipulation, that’s what it came down to. Blackmailing them into institutional living, no matter what they might have chosen.

  The tide of fury had just risen in her gut again, when Char
les’s PA rose from her seat.

  “Mr. McClaine will see you now.”

  She led Elizabeth to the door, opened it, then stood back while Elizabeth crossed into Charles’s inner sanctum.

  No invitation to sit. For some moments, she stood in front of his desk. He didn’t even look up. Just continued writing something on a notepad. It wasn’t until she took a deep breath and let her eyes wander around his office that he finally put down his pen, plucked his eyeglasses off, and glared at her.

  “What the hell is going on?” he asked.

  “That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

  “Do you know what damage that woman is doing to my foundation?”

  Oh, his foundation now. Normally it was referred to as our foundation.

  Elizabeth steadied herself. “I believe this has something to do with a nurse aid from Sunny Springs. From what I gather, Laney Donohue found her sister beaten and left in a closet, and went off to find her—the nurse aid, that is.”

  His brow creased in utter disbelief. “What’s that got to do with us? And why are you dragging my name through the mud?”

  “I’m not dragging your name through the mud. As I said, I’m trying to figure out why this woman is even writing these stories.” Realizing her voice had risen, she modified her tone. “I believe it’s something to do with a realty broker by the name of Gate Westrum.”

  “Gate Westrum? What’s he got to do with anything? No, don’t answer that,” he said, swatting it away with one hand. “Just stay out of it, Elizabeth. Just do your job. That’s what I pay you for.”

  That hurt. Only rarely did he remind her that the foundation and her livelihood depended on him.

  “I still need to investigate what happened to Kimmy Donohue, and find out how she was left with bruises all over her.”

  He blinked at her. “No, you don’t. Whatever has happened over at Sunny Springs is nothing to do with the foundation. Just leave it.”

  “Then what about this woman—this Jennifer Reels? The one who’s writing these stories. How does she have access to the foundation’s investment information? Where did she get copies of the funding agreements? You can’t tell me she just happened to dig around and she found all this. Someone is feeding her all this information. Doesn’t that worry you?”

  By the time she’d finished, she realized her voice had risen again. Shouting, in fact. She touched a knuckle to her lips and cleared her throat.

  Charles sat rigid in his leather chair and fixed her with a stare. “Just. Stay. Out of it.”

  “And what about Kimmy? And what about those fifteen young people who are living in Aden Falls institutions just because…” She stopped short while a couple of boulder-sized realizations came loose in her brain and tumbled to the ground, leaving her without words. She swallowed hard and hugged her purse in tight.

  “You built them,” she said calmly. “The Charles McClaine Construction Company built all those institutions.”

  He stared at her. Kept staring. Saying nothing. Daring her to continue.

  “All the time I was lobbying against these…these medieval housing developments, these insane asylums from the dark ages—”

  He waved her off, saying, “Oh, now you’re just getting carried away—”

  “—you were in the background, scheming and planning to construct more and more of them, the hell with what I thought.”

  “Don’t give me that, Elizabeth. We’re a construction company. You think I’m going to turn away good business just because it doesn’t suit you?”

  “And what if that isn’t a part of our philosophy?”

  Charles lifted his head, his steely gaze fixed on hers. “Then you’re welcome to offer up your resignation from the trust. And we both know what that means, Elizabeth.”

  She knew very well what that meant. It meant losing her home, her maid, and her income. The threat was like a smack in the teeth.

  “You’re telling me you’d throw your own granddaughter out on the street? Is that really what you’d do?”

  His response was immediate, and brutal. “No, Elizabeth. Only you.”

  Shocked to the core, she stood in front of his desk with her mind reeling and tears threatening.

  “You can’t take Holly away from me. She’s my daughter.”

  “Then don’t push me,” he said in a harsh voice. “We take care of our own here, Elizabeth. If you want to be a part of this family, you do as you’re told. Stay out of it, and I promise you all this will go away.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  DAY TWO—7:42 PM—ELIZABETH

  “He threatened to take Holly away?” Penny’s face was frozen in horror. “And what? He thinks you’d just walk away? Ride off into the sunset without her?”

  “He knows how much money he has, and how much I have. It would be no contest.”

  “But the law wouldn’t—”

  “Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” Elizabeth snapped at her. “They’ve got Grant Alders. Do you know how many legal battles he’s lost lately? None, that’s how many.”

  How could she lose the daughter she’d fought for—the child whose love was the only thing that kept her going some days? How could she let her be torn from her grasp? Used as a bartering chip?

  Unbidden tears suddenly sprang up. She squeezed her eyes closed and dropped her head into her hands. When she blinked away the tears and looked up, Penny’s brow was wrinkled, her lips pressed together so hard they were white. Elizabeth had never seen her look so wounded.

  “Oh, Penny, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to take it out on you. I just…” Shaking her head slowly, she was searching for words, when Penny said,

  “It’s okay. I know how I’d feel. Let’s get a coffee and we’ll come up with a plan.”

  Elizabeth took the steaming cup and held it between both hands, peering into it as if looking for answers.

  Penny was first to speak.

  “You know what I think? I think you should call up Laney, tell her we’ll do our best to help her find a good, safe place for Kimmy. Just until she’s got herself in a better position to care for her. Tell her to forget about finding that nurse aid. She’s probably got a new job by now, anyway. In fact, she’s probably forgotten all about Kimmy. And what’s the point in dragging it all up again? It’s not going to change anything. Just tell her we’ll help her move forward.”

  Turning a sideways look on her PA, Elizabeth said, “You mean whatever’s going on, stay out of it. Get on with my job. Like I’ve been told to.”

  “I’m not saying that. But hey, what else can you do? Charles has told you to drop it. So, drop it. Why would you risk everything you’ve worked for? Why would you risk losing Holly? Just for one girl you haven’t even met?”

  “And what about these articles? Jennifer Reels?”

  “Charles said it would go away, didn’t he? He has one heck of an amount of clout. He’ll fix it.”

  Elizabeth blinked into her lap. In all her darkest times, she’d never felt so powerless. But if she fought back, how much did she have to lose? Everything, that’s what.

  “Maybe you’re right. I have my home. I have my job. I have my daughter.”

  “Exactly.”

  One nod. Decision made. “Okay, I’ll step back. Do me one favor first, though: get Janelle on the phone for me. Tell her I need Laney’s cell number. I’ll call her up, tell her we’ll do whatever we can to help her and Kimmy. If they need funding, they’ll have it. If they need a home, we’ll find them one.”

  “That’s our job, after all, right?”

  “You’re right. That’s our job.”

  “I think that’s a good decision.” Penny placed her hand on Elizabeth’s arm, gave her a gentle squeeze. “I’ll call Janelle, then I’ll make us another pot of coffee.”

  While Penny lifted the phone and dialed, Elizabeth turned her gaze back to the window: Cleveland, her home. Holly’s home. They’d be okay. All she had to do was what she’d always done—take care of her own. Just li
ke Charles had said.

  Then, why did she feel so empty?

  Behind her, Penny hung up the phone but said nothing.

  “What did Janelle say?”

  “Nothing. I didn’t call.”

  Penny was staring wide-eyed into her computer screen.

  Elizabeth moved over beside her, also gazing at the screen. “What is it?”

  Despite the fact that Elizabeth could see it herself, Penny read from the screen:

  “‘Breaking news: At 4 PM today, a woman was found dead with a single gunshot wound to the head. Shortly afterwards, police formally identified the victim as Velma Stanford, residential coordinator of Sunny Springs, the facility recently named in articles pointing to anomalies in the Charles McClaine Trust’s funding practices. Mrs. Stanford was seen only the day before in a heated debate with Elizabeth McClaine over client applications.’ It goes on about funding, blah, blah. Written by the inimitable Jennifer Reels.”

  In shock, Elizabeth read the article over again, pausing on quotes by alleged witnesses. “This can’t be right…”

  Penny’s hand was still on the phone when it rang. She shot a pensive look up to meet Elizabeth’s gaze.

  “Take it,” said Elizabeth, steeling herself.

  “This could be bad.”

  “Take it,” Elizabeth said again.

  Lifting the phone, she said, “Charles McClaine Trust, you’re speaking with—” She stopped short, nodded, then said, “Sure, I’ll pass you over.” She covered the mouthpiece and whispered, “It’s Delaney.”

  With her heart in her throat, Elizabeth took the phone, sucked down a breath, then put it to her ear. “Lance.”

  “I need to see you,” he said.

  “When?”

  “Now,” he said.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  DAY TWO—9:23 PM—ELIZABETH

  Explaining to Delaney that her housekeeper, Katie, had to leave early, Elizabeth had requested he meet her at her home. Assuring her that while the visit would be official, she wasn’t under arrest and therefore she could decide where they met.