Just Evil (The Evil Secrets Trilogy)

by Vickie McKeehan

  “Much better. Thanks for letting me out of there.”

  “Where?”

  “The closet—I mean the bedroom. Thanks for getting me out of there.”

  “Did you have a dream about being locked in the closet?”

  She nodded. “I couldn’t get out. I haven’t felt that way in a really long time. I’d gotten past all those fears, but for some reason, it’s all happening in my head again. I woke up and couldn’t get out.”

  He held her tighter. “It’s okay now. You’re outside.”

  “That’s one of the reasons I like your boat. It’s like camping, but on the water.”

  “We’ll stay out here for as long as you want. You don’t have to go back inside tonight. I wouldn’t much like it locked in a closet, too confining for me.”

  Even with the darkness Jake saw Kit smile, take another deep breath. “Not only that, but you get scared even when you know you’re the only one in there and the floor’s cold and hard and you have no idea how long you’ll be in there.”

  Jake took a deep breath of his own. At that moment, for the first time in his life, he contemplated murder. If Alana Stevens wasn’t already dead, he might have killed her himself. How could she have treated her own child so horribly?

  Underneath the stars, they got comfortable in a chaise lounge, curling up together beneath the blanket. While Jake played with a few strands of her hair, she wanted him to know, “I’m not crazy, Jake. I’m just going through a rough time right now. Since Alana died…”

  He laughed. “I don’t think you’re crazy, Kit. If you need to talk about it, though, we’ll talk. But if you don’t want to, that’s okay, too. I think I understand how tough it is to go back in your mind to that time. So we won’t, unless you want to. But I’d never think you’re crazy. Do you want to talk?”

  She thought for a moment. “No.” Snuggling up against his body, she kissed him. They stayed like that until Kit eventually fell back to sleep.

  Jake, however, had a tougher time. He thought about his own childhood and how lucky he’d been to have parents whose worst form of discipline was banishing one or all three kids to their rooms for an evening as the dog stood guard outside in the hallway. His thoughts went back to his dad, the soft-spoken, supposedly tough-talking disciplinarian who, when it came to his kids, gave in more often than his mother. He made a mental note to call both of them just to say hello. He thought back to that afternoon, to the few minutes he’d spent in the cramped closet with the door closed, and the grown man shuddered.

  He looked down at the sleeping woman in his arms, remembered exactly what she’d looked like when she was fourteen. It hit him then like a punch to the gut. And it had nothing to do with lust, pity, or sympathy. At the realization, a peace descended, and he finally drifted off to sleep.

  The sun peeking through the eastern sky made the water sparkle and glisten. With the first rays of morning light the marina’s bird population chirped to life, welcoming daybreak. Before Jake opened his eyes, he felt weight on his legs and lower stomach. When he blinked awake, he saw that Kit had slid somewhat down his body, curled up in a ball and ended up with her head resting on the lower half of his stomach. His right leg tingled. He tried to move to stretch it out without waking her. But she was already awake and in a playful mood. “I feel something hard in my ear.”

  “It isn’t your ear that it’s interested in.”

  She turned her head to look up at him, rested her chin on his stomach and grinned. “What’s it interested in?”

  “Come here and I’ll show you.” He reached to pull her up for a kiss.

  She responded by slinking up his body. “Morning. Sorry you had to sleep in a deck chair most of the night.” She stretched like a cat. “I like sleeping on the boat. Where else can you get up in the middle of the night, take a stroll over the Pacific Ocean?” She yawned. “And we started the day off with a built-in sunrise. How great is that? I can tell you right now, I think we should chunk our boring lives and sail away some place exotic.”

  “I knew it. You’ve been bitten by the bug. From now on whenever you’re back on land, you’ll daydream about being on the water. You won’t be able to think of anything but sailing.”

  She yawned again, lazily stretching out her long legs, but turned serious. “I may be going through a difficult time right now, feeling vulnerable since Alana died. But it’s important to me that you know that before this, I was very self-sufficient. I’ve been on my own since I was sixteen. I run my own business. I may be going through this rough patch, the dreams are upsetting me, there’s no denying that, but I don’t need someone to take care of me. I’m not high maintenance.”

  Like Claire, he thought. “I know that, Kit. You’re anything but.” He started nibbling her ear before his emphasis shifted to the shape of her body through the short, silky robe she wore.

  He pulled her up out of the chaise with him and took her hand in his.

  “Let’s go below deck, there’s a softer surface with our name on it.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Recognizing the familiar ring of his cell phone, Jake fumbled toward the built-in nightstand for his phone. When he didn’t locate the thing, he reluctantly crawled out of bed to follow the distant ringing; eventually finding it where he’d left it plugged in to charge in the salon.

  Rubbing his eyes, he looked at his watch, 8:15. They’d fallen back to sleep. Before that they’d had incredible sex at the crack of dawn. His lips turned up.

  After ten rings or so, he finally got to the phone. Caller ID told him it was Dylan. “Jake, the office is a fucking mess. Someone broke in here last night and completely wrecked the place. I just walked in, found stuff everywhere, called you. I’m pissed, and more than a little rattled. It doesn’t look as if they took anything, at least I don’t think they did. Looks like the computers are still here and so is the other office equipment. I haven’t completely checked everything. It looks more like they were looking for something. What do you want me to do?”

  The words “looking for something” triggered a reminder of the mess he’d seen at Alana’s house. “Did they hack the network again?”

  “I can’t answer that yet, but I’m on it.”

  “Call the police. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  Back in the stateroom, he stared at a still-sleeping Kit, facing the other way, curled up in a ball, which seemed to be her favorite way to sleep.

  He sat down on her side of the bed and began stroking her hair, moving a few strands off her face. Leaning down to her, he rubbed her back, hoping the motion would wake her up. But when she didn’t move a muscle, he nudged her, rocking her slightly with a shaking motion. When she still didn’t stir, he reached under the covers, found bare skin, and tickled her ribs. She started to wriggle under his touch, and he whispered in her ear, “Kit, you have to get up. Someone broke into my office. I have to go and you have to go with me. I don’t want to leave you alone on the boat.”

  He didn’t think it was the right time to mention that he wasn’t planning on letting her out of his sight until he found out what the hell was going on. And he suspected something was definitely going on.

  Half asleep, not having processed much of what he’d said, Kit turned her head to look at him and noticed he was already dressed. Confused, she stated, “Oh. Good. You’re going to get food.”

  “Come on, sleepyhead. You have to get up and come with me.”

  “To get food? What time is it? Can’t I just stay here?” She yawned and stretched, rolling over in bed. In one fluid motion, she threw her arms around his neck, drawing him down to her level, and gave him a wet kiss. “It’s Baylee’s turn to work the Saturday morning shift. We can sleep late. I say we make the most of it.” She wiggled her eyebrows up and down in a purely sexual invitation.

  He knew she considered herself to be somewhat inexperienced, but she was proving to be anything but. Thinking about that right now just made it tougher. When she started moving her hands up u
nder his T-shirt, for a few moments, he didn’t put up much of a protest. But then he gently set her back from him. When she looked surprised at his disinterest, he told her, “I’ve got to get to the office, Kit. Someone tossed the place.”

  That got her attention. As she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, she replied, “Just like Alana’s.”

  “Yeah, so until I find out what’s going on, the rule is simple: where I go, you go and vice versa; no putting up a fuss.”

  Minutes later as Kit got dressed, she asked, more awake now, “Did they take anything?”

  “Dylan didn’t think so. I don’t think they were there to steal the equipment, more like they were looking for something.” He cocked one brow her way and didn’t even have to say it.

  She finished for him, “You think whoever went through Alana’s place paid you a visit. But why?”

  “Good question, honey.” He lightly tapped her fanny. “Now hurry up, we gotta go.”

  Forty minutes later they walked into Billing-Pro Software. For the second time in two days, Jake walked into a mess where someone had gone through everything. He looked around at the desks, where the contents of the drawers had been dumped on the floor. Chairs were overturned, office equipment ruined. And here, just like at Alana’s, it didn’t look as if they’d taken a single item, but rather tossed stuff around or destroyed it altogether. But unlike Alana’s house, this time it was personal.

  Dylan met Jake in the hallway. “I’ve got good news. You just aren’t going to believe this. I’ve got them on tape. They didn’t realize we have surveillance cameras set up all over the place.”

  As he talked, Jake followed him into what they affectionately called, “Command Central,” a computer geek’s version of paradise. The room contained eight computers dedicated as servers, along with every top-of-the-line, state-of-the-art gadget and device you would expect from the computer world guaranteed to keep Billing-Pro Software on the cutting edge of technology.

  Jake watched as Dylan sat down at a computer terminal, and tapped in a few keystrokes. They watched as a grainy, digital image flickered in extremely slow motion on the flat screen monitor. “But you just aren’t going to believe who did this.” Dylan tapped the keys to enlarge the image, and then said, “Look at who we have here, caught on tape. Recognize anybody, Jake?”

  Jake stared more intently at the monitor. “Gerald Auslo and Mark Taft.” Maybe this wasn’t connected to the mess at Alana’s house after all. But it was still a helluva coincidence. And he didn’t believe in coincidences.

  Kit came up behind Jake and Dylan. They were watching the security tape and alternately cursing as the intruders on tape ransacked desk drawers, scattered papers on the floor, overturned chairs, and generally wreaked havoc on their offices.

  “Who are those guys?”

  Jake let out a sigh, “Two not-so-bright former employees who worked in testing for about six months more than two years ago.”

  “So it doesn’t have anything to do with Alana’s place.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Who’s Alana?” Dylan asked casually, turning his attention from the monitor to watch with interest the interaction between Kit and his friend.

  Kit looked at Jake for help, until finally he said, “It’s a long story.”

  Dylan leaned back in his chair. “I’ve got nothing better to do while we wait for the cops to show up. How about you?”

  Kit didn’t want to listen, so she excused herself with the offer to make some much-needed coffee and headed to the break room.

  In the meantime, Jake told Dylan the short version of what Kit had been going through since Mother’s Day, minus all the personal aspects, until Dylan finally wanted to know, “Why would Auslo and Taft ransack Kit’s mother’s house? Why would you think the two incidents are related?”

  “Good question. But here’s an even better one: why would two former employees wait two years after their termination to break into our offices? Why now?”

  Dylan’s eyebrows went up. “Excellent point. So you don’t think it’s just maybe a coincidence?”

  “No way.”

  When Kit reappeared with the coffee, she had two uniformed officers in tow.

  While Jake and Dylan dealt with the police, Kit wandered off to assess the damage to the rest of the offices. Looking around at the destruction, taking mental inventory of the damage, it started to sink in.

  For the first time in days, she went through a mental checklist. First, the boat had blown up. Their trip had been a spur-of-the-moment decision made after the funeral ended, unplanned. Yet, someone had known they were on the water that day and what their precise location was.

  That same day someone had put Jake’s company at risk by hacking the network. The company hadn’t just lost valuable data, but their security had been breached, client information compromised. The company Jake had worked so hard to make successful was in jeopardy. And now today, someone had ransacked his offices. All because of her. This was all her fault. If he hadn’t gotten involved in her problems, his business wouldn’t be at risk now.

  For the next two hours Jake and Dylan were busy with the police, reviewing the surveillance tape. The police took the tape as evidence and pretty much assured they’d have no problem getting an arrest warrant for Auslo and Taft.

  After filing the lengthy and detailed report, Jake set out to find Kit, who seemed to have disappeared while he’d been occupied with the police. He found her in his office cleaning up the mess. She’d put his desk back in order, picked up all the papers littering the floor, and straightened out most of the files.

  He dropped into one of the two chairs facing his desk, and conveyed, “You didn’t have to do that, Kit.”

  She didn’t say anything, but continued alphabetizing the rest of his files. One thing he knew about her without a doubt was when the woman wasn’t talking it meant she was upset about something. When she finally looked up at him, he saw her moist eyes.

  “I’m so sorry, Jake.”

  “About what? There’s nothing to be sorry about. None of this is your fault.” Distracted, he joined his fingers like a steeple and leaned back in his chair, as if deep in thought.

  She couldn’t believe he wasn’t upset. She’d seen him as a young programmer just starting out in business, a very intense man who could lose his temper when the slightest thing went wrong with the software. Now his entire company was at risk because of her.

  Didn’t he understand it was her fault? Finally she said, “Of course it is. If you weren’t involved in my problems, your offices wouldn’t have been broken into, your system wouldn’t have been hacked. And your boat wouldn’t have been almost blown up, and you with it.” She noticed he wasn’t really listening to her and wasn’t surprised when his change of subject came out of the blue.

  “Kit, if Alana wanted to hide something, something she didn’t want anyone—not even dear old Jessica—to find, where would she hide it? Was she the safe-deposit-box kind of woman or the under-the-mattress kind?”

  Tears started now and her voice broke. “Didn’t you just hear what I said? If we’d gotten closer to that old boat that blew up…you might be…dead. I…I just realized…today looking at this mess…all of this is happening because of me. Someone wants to hurt you, your business, and the company you worked so hard for because of me.”

  Calmly, Jake got out of the chair and walked around the desk to put his arms around her. He put a hand under her chin and turned her face up to his. With a thumb he wiped away the tears running down her cheek. “Honey, none of this is your fault. It’s you I’m worried about. I’m not sure why someone wanted us dead that day on the water, but I think it’s you they want to hurt, not me. I’m just in the way. What we have to do is figure out why. Now, if Alana wanted to secure something valuable, hide it away so that no one would find it, what’s the most likely place she’d use to stash something?”

  “I have no idea. We weren’t exactly close, Jake.”

&nbs
p; “I know, but did she have any weird habits?” When he saw her blink as if she hadn’t heard him correctly, he laughed at himself. “Okay, the woman had weird habits out the ying-yang, not exactly Mother Teresa. Let me start over. Did she have any secret places she’d put things, hide stuff, a place she didn’t like to share?”

  Kit thought for a moment, bit her lip. “Well, I remember she always spent a lot of time up in the attic. She’d spend hours up there with all of her old stuff. She liked to reminiscent about the days when she was an actress, when she was younger.”

  “Doing what?”

  She shrugged. “Who knows? Who cared? Not me. If she wasn’t hassling me that was all I cared about. I lived for the times when she was out of the house or busy with whatever, as long as she left me alone.” She sighed. “Look, most of the house was off-limits, including the attic. Even when I was young I knew better than to wander around the house. I never ventured up there, never wanted to. But she spent a lot of time there. Why?”

  “Because someone is seriously looking for something they think Alana had. They can’t find it, and now they’ve brought their search to my door. That makes it personal, just pisses me off. I want to go back to Beverly Hills, take a look around, and see what I can find.”

  “Knock yourself out; just don’t expect me to go with you.”

  “It’s okay. I’ll drop you off at the store. I want you to do something for me, though. Promise me you won’t be alone this afternoon. If I’m not back by the time you close up, go home with Baylee or over to Gloria’s, wait there until I get back.”

  The idea of being treated like a child had her temper flaring.

  He saw the flicker of anger in her eyes. Before she could explode at him, he added, “Just until I figure out what’s going on and why. Okay?”

  She wanted to argue, she really did, but when she looked at his face, looked into the depth of his blue eyes and…well shit…why did he always get to her with that look, those eyes?

  “Okay,” she said weakly. So I’m not the rock of Gibraltar, for chrissakes. Sue me.