“Mrs. Breuner?” he asked.
“Yes?” She hoped Tiffany wasn’t sick again.
“I’ve been getting more and more concerned with Tiffany this week. She seems distracted in class and her scores have dropped noticeably. I think we should discuss this.”
“Well, you know about my husband. I wouldn’t be surprised if that was affecting her.”
Mr. Phillips was silent for a moment. “Have you heard from him at all?”
Abby thought about the note she had found earlier. Her heart pounded as she knew she would have to fudge the truth, and she realized that if doing so only to her child’s teacher could send her into such a nervous state, she would have a real problem if Tim Meher confronted her. She swallowed quickly before replying. “No I haven’t, I’m afraid.”
“I can see why Tiffany would be upset.” He paused for a moment. “I wonder if it would help if I gave her extra tutoring—maybe help her catch up while she’s off track these next couple of weeks.”
The suggestion made Abby uncomfortable, though she wasn’t sure why. “I’ll have to think about it.”
“I know it’s unusual . . .” He paused. “I can come to your house if that would ease your mind. I really feel for your family and want to help if I can.”
“I don’t know. Can I get back to you?”
“Sure. Let me give you my home number.”
Abby grabbed a pen and paper and wrote the number down. “Thank you. I’ll let you know.”
After she hung up, Abby stared at the piece of paper and tried to examine her feelings of discomfort. Though his offer was unexpected, maybe he did just want to help, although under the present circumstances, having him at her home unsettled her for many reasons. And he had seemed a little eager to have Abby agree to it.
She wasn’t sure if it was that he was a single man, or that the offer seemed to cross professional boundaries—all she knew was that Mr. Phillips’ suggestion made her anxious.
Abby set the piece of paper on the counter, then finished eating her lunch. A short time later she left to run a few errands. When she was miles away, she realized she’d neglected to set the alarm. With everything on her mind, she wasn’t surprised she’d forgotten. Annoyed at herself, she decided she’d just have to hurry and hope nothing happened.
The moment Abby drove away, he made his way into the house, amazed to find the alarm unarmed yet again. If only he could be this lucky at poker. He needed to find the money, and he would do whatever was necessary to accomplish that. He entered the house without incident, but after a thorough search the only thing he’d found had been an unexpected note. Things had gone wrong and he needed the money back. His survival depended on it.
The first thing Abby noticed when she returned from running her errands was that the couch cushions were askew. She only noticed because she had straightened them that morning in her quest to bring order to her home.
Dropping the packages she was carrying, Abby walked swiftly into the other main-level rooms of the house, and noticed items out of place here and there. Nothing obvious, but enough that she could tell someone had been there.
Once the realization hit that someone could still be there, Abby ran out of the house and climbed into the minivan, then backed out of the driveway, not sure where to go. Then, knowing the girls would be walking home from school soon, Abby headed toward the school to intercept them.
As she waited by the school fence, Abby’s mind darted from one thought to another. What were they looking for? Did they know Eric had been there? Were they looking for the cash? Had it been Eric again? Should I call the police?
Still uncertain if Eric was involved in embezzlement, she didn’t want to hurt him by getting the police involved. Then she thought about the note from Eric, thankful she had destroyed it according to his directions.
How much danger is he in? Are the girls and I in danger too? Someone was in our home.
Fearful, she berated herself for forgetting to set the alarm, although she wondered if that would have stopped them.
What about the note I wrote? Alarm twisted her stomach. She could only hope that whoever had been there hadn’t looked in the Monopoly box. With reluctance, Abby decided to call the police.
Once home, Abby sent the girls to friends’ houses so she wouldn’t have to explain to them why the police were coming. An hour later a uniformed officer arrived and accompanied Abby into the house.
He looked around the spotless room. “You say you think someone broke into your house, ma’am?”
“I’m pretty sure. This morning I cleaned the house, and when I came home from running errands I noticed a few things out of place.” Abby hoped the officer wouldn’t scoff at her worries.
“Is anything missing?” He pulled out a small notepad.
“Not that I can tell.”
He walked around the house, checking the rooms, doors, and windows. “It doesn’t look like anyone forced an entry.”
Abby twisted her wedding ring on her finger. “I . . . I didn’t know what to do. That’s why I called.”
“Since nothing’s missing and there’s no sign of forced entry, all I can do is file a report,” he said. “If there’s nothing else I can do for you, I’ll be on my way.”
His casual response made her feel foolish. “Thank you. I appreciate you coming here.” But as Abby watched the officer drive away, she knew she shouldn’t feel foolish. Someone had been there. She could feel it.
Once the officer left, Abby went upstairs to peek in the Monopoly box. What she found caused her knees to buckle, and she stumbled to the bed as her stomach churned violently. It was a note, but not the one she’d left.
Mrs. Breuner,
We know you have the money. Send an email to the address below and tell us where you will leave it for us. Do not take these instructions lightly.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Abby had always considered herself a planner, carefully outlining the paths she would follow before setting off. That luxury was absent now. After having her home violated, she didn’t feel secure staying there. And because the police couldn’t do anything to help unless she told them about the cash and the notes, she knew she had no choice but to ensure the safety of her children on her own.
That was how they found themselves pulling into the parking lot of a motel in the next town. The girls decided it was a grand adventure, staying in a motel when their home was close by. Abby indulged them by promising they could eat out and stay up to watch television.
Not wanting Jennifer to worry, Abby had taken a minute to leave a message on Jennifer’s voice mail to clarify that they were going away for a few days.
As Abby approached the motel office, she thought it might be best to sign in under an assumed name and to pay in cash. “Tiffany, you and Susannah go sit in those chairs while I check us in,” she whispered as they entered the lobby, a reassuring smile on her face.
They did as instructed and Abby walked over to the long counter. She spoke softly as she gave her name, not wanting the girls to overhear. Paying in advance for three nights, she accepted her key card.
As the three of them entered the generic-looking room, Tiffany and Susannah quickly claimed the beds, tossing their suitcases on the floor before jumping on the mattresses.
“Okay, okay,” Abby said. “One of those beds is for me. You’re going to have to share the other.”
“Mom!” they complained in unison.
“I know, I know. Now, who wants to go swimming?”
After their swim in the motel’s pool, Abby unlocked the door to their room and glanced around, half expecting to see the room ransacked. Nothing appeared out of place, and she allowed the girls to enter. After settling them in front of the television, Abby took a quick shower, trying to wash away her worries.
“Mom, let’s go to the carnival!” Susannah yelled as soon as Abby opened the bathroom door. On television a commercial trumpeted the arrival of a carnival the next day, Saturday.
> Several excuses for why they couldn’t go ran through Abby’s head, but the looks on the girls’ faces made her rethink her automatic decision. They were supposed to be on an adventure, and she needed to keep them occupied.
“Okay. Sounds like fun,” she said with more enthusiasm then she felt. “We’ll go on Saturday afternoon.”
The clock seemed to tick slowly while Eric waited for Friday evening to arrive. As he pulled into the parking lot of Central Valley Construction, he looked around, gratified to see that few vehicles were there. Most importantly, Tim’s car was absent. Taking one last look in his rearview mirror, Eric adjusted his mustache and ball cap. If anyone looked closely at him, he would probably be recognized, but that was a chance he would have to take.
As Eric approached the front doors he wished he’d been able to get this evidence before taking off. He’d gotten some of the purchase orders, but unfortunately he’d had to leave in such a hurry that there hadn’t been time to do this right.
Pulling the door open, he saw the receptionist’s desk was vacant and assumed she must have left for the day. Keeping his head down to avoid the ever-present eye of the security camera, he went directly to the stairs. Four flights later he opened the door and scrutinized the area. Surprised to see Carly at her desk, he closed the door to decide what to do. Waiting was the only option. He pulled the door open a crack and peered in Carly’s direction. She was talking on the phone and writing something down, but after only a moment she left her desk and went down the hall.
Eric sprinted through the stairwell door and to his office. It was locked and he had to fumble for his keys before getting safely inside. He looked around, not knowing what he had expected to see, but was surprised nonetheless by the mess he found. Obviously someone had searched his things.
His computer was gone.
He knew he shouldn’t be surprised, but still, he sat in his desk chair and stared at the empty desktop as he thought about his next move. Whatever it was, he didn’t want to have to come back here again. He had to get what he needed today.
Maybe I can get into Tim’s computer.
Eric pressed his ear to the door, listening for Carly’s voice. Not hearing anything, he slowly turned the knob. Peeking through the crack in the door, he looked toward the secretary’s desk. It was still vacant. He hoped she had gone home, but he didn’t know if his luck was that good.
Heart racing, he yanked his door open and darted to Tim’s office, then turned the knob. As expected, it was locked, but he knew Carly kept a spare key in her desk. Walking briskly, he approached her desk and searched the drawers, and after a moment he found the key. He dashed to Tim’s door, but as he pushed the key into the lock, he heard voices down the hall. His heart thrumming in his chest, Eric turned the key and felt the doorknob turn in his hand.
He closed the door behind him and pressed the lock. Tim’s office looked the same as always and Eric strode over to the desk and sat in front of the computer monitor. When the password prompt appeared, Eric smiled. He knew Tim kept his password written down. The company required their employees to change their password every thirty days, and Eric knew Tim had a hard time remembering his current one.
He turned the keyboard over, but there was nothing there. Next he tried the mouse pad and was gratified to find a sticky-note with a group of letters and numbers written down. He quickly typed them in and hit ENTER. He was in.
It didn’t take long to find what he was looking for, and he printed out all the purchase orders and invoices for the phony company, grateful Tim had a printer in his office. He also copied the data onto a pair of flash drives he’d brought along.
He wasn’t sure how much money needed to be involved before the FBI would investigate, but over one hundred thousand dollars was probably enough for them to take an interest. Not only that, but because the checks were mailed to an out-of-state address and used the banking system, he knew that made it a federal issue.
Once he’d gotten everything he had come for, he managed to return the keys to Carly’s desk and get down to the lobby without incident. The receptionist’s desk was still empty, and Eric hurried toward the door.
The atmosphere of the carnival was as Abby remembered from her own childhood, and she smiled, glad she had decided to bring the girls.
Susannah pulled on Abby’s arm. “I want to go on the rides, Mom.”
Abby glanced at Tiffany and was pleased to see her looking happier than she had in a while. “Sure. Which one do you want to go on first?”
She watched as the girls went on the bumper boats, trying to get each other wet. By the time they climbed out of the boats, they were thoroughly in the mood for a good time.
“Mom, there’s Mr. Phillips,” Tiffany said, pointing him out.
Abby’s head jerked in the direction Tiffany indicated. She took a step toward him to say hello, but was surprised when he rushed off the opposite way.
Almost certain he had seen them, she wondered why he’d ignored them. Suspicion swept over her at the thought, but then she felt foolish for her conjecture, knowing she was probably just being paranoid. Still, she couldn’t shake her feelings of uneasiness about the man.
Abby led her daughters to the mini roller coaster, and though she tried to show enthusiasm when the girls turned their attention to her, her earlier excitement had completely left her—she was distracted as she watched for suspicious characters in the crowd.
It wasn’t until they were driving back to the motel that it occurred to Abby that Mr. Phillips seemed to have been at the carnival by himself. She found that peculiar.
Chapter Twenty-Three
By Monday morning Abby and her girls were beginning to get on each other’s nerves and she knew it was time to make a decision. It was obvious that running away was not the answer—they couldn’t put their lives on hold indefinitely. She’d just have to call the authorities again if needed, and take other precautions when they got back. Reluctantly, she instructed the girls to pack their things.
Over their protests, Abby took the girls to school before going home. She didn’t know what she would find at the house and didn’t want to endanger her children. Abby drove home, her heart hammering in fear of what she might find, but what she saw as she approached her house was the last thing she expected.
Eric’s Jeep parked in the driveway.
She managed to pull up to her house before turning off the engine and throwing open her door. Then she raced into the house.
“Eric! Eric!” she screamed, running through the first floor as fast as she could in her expectant shape.
Not finding him there, she rushed up the stairs, her breath coming in gasps, then she went to the master bedroom and stopped in the doorway. The room was empty and nothing looked out of place. She went down the hall to the other bedrooms.
“Eric? Eric, are you here?” she cried out, crushed by disappointment.
No one was home.
Abby went back to the master bedroom and examined the closet and bathroom. Nothing had been added to the things already there. Nothing had been removed. She sank onto the bed, disoriented at not finding Eric home when his Jeep was.
The Jeep. Abby rose from the bed and descended the staircase. Who had found it and brought it to her house? Where had it been hidden?
She went outside and saw that the Jeep really was parked there. She hadn’t hallucinated. Peering in the driver’s side window, she saw a folded piece of paper on the seat with a set of keys beside it. She yanked on the door handle, but it was locked, so she hurried to the passenger side, but it was locked as well. This is really weird.
Hurrying back into the house, Abby grabbed her purse and returned outside. Frantically rummaging around for her keys, her hand shook and she had trouble grabbing onto anything. In frustration she dumped everything onto the driveway.
Snatching her keyring from the pile on the ground, she flipped through the keys, desperate to find her copy of Eric’s key. When she didn’t see it, panic swell
ed within her until she remembered that Eric had borrowed her set when he last took his car in for a tune-up—and he’d never given it back.
Pressing her forehead against the driver’s side window, she gazed at the note resting on the seat. What does it say? Is it from Eric?
After punching in the code for the garage door opener, Abby walked over to Eric’s workbench. The hammer hanging on pegs seemed to call to her, and she picked it up, allowing her disappointment at Eric’s absence to be replaced by anger. Using all the frustration she was feeling to power her swing, she battered the driver’s side window until it shattered.
Carefully reaching in the broken window, she picked up the note and keys from the seat, then tore the note open.
Abby,
The Jeep was found with the keys under the mat. Thought we’d drop it by. Return the package or your husband will be permanently in our debt and we will have to find alternate means of repayment.
Have a great day.
“Agent Franklin,” the voice on the phone answered.
“Yeah, I’m the one who sent you that flash drive. Did you get it?” Eric pressed the phone against his ear, glancing around the gas station.
“Yes, I did, Mr. . . . ?”
“Brown. You can call me Mr. Brown.”
“Okay, Mr. Brown. Our people are examining the data. I have a question for you, though. What part do you play in this? You didn’t give me much detail the other day. What is it you do at Central Valley Construction?”
Sweat formed under Eric’s arms and he wondered if the FBI agent was tracing the call. He still didn’t feel comfortable telling any more than was absolutely necessary. “I’d rather not get into that now. Suffice it to say I know who’s doing this.”
“We would appreciate your cooperation, Mr. Brown. Your full cooperation.”
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