by Lisa Harris
“Or on the other side for that matter.” She cocked her head and held his gaze. “You’re sure about this?”
“I’ve never been surer. Think of it this way, if you have to. Our firm is gathering intel on a certain Internet-scam ring and any additional information I get could potentially help take them down.”
“I’ll still owe you big-time. I’m sure my nonprofit salary doesn’t come close to paying your invoices.”
Her cell phone rang on the other side of the counter. She checked the caller ID and frowned. “It’s my father.”
“You’re not in this alone anymore, Lindsey. Remember that.”
She shot him a grateful glance and took the call.
SEVEN
Lindsey couldn’t shake the feeling someone was watching them. She pushed her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose and quickened her pace to match Kyle’s long stride as they crossed the crowded parking lot toward the pet shop. She hadn’t expected him to come with her, but when her father called to tell her that he was being released this afternoon, Kyle had insisted that he’d rather shop for a fish tank with her than sit cooped up in a hotel room waiting until his sister got home from a birthday party with his nieces. Lindsey had taken him at his word—she was glad he’d come along.
A bead of perspiration formed on her temple. Even before noon, the temperature was already well over ninety degrees. She glanced to her left. A tired-looking mom worked to get four kids inside her car. A Volkswagen bug parked in front of them, while a blue van drove past slowly, searching for an empty spot. Lindsey shook off the eerie sensation. These were Saturday-morning shoppers looking for a bargain, not burglars, stalkers and Internet scammers.
Still, the reality of the past few hours hung heavier than the humid Texas air. On top of all that had been lost, the thought that the scammers didn’t care what happened to the victims made her sick. But it was true. Abraham Omah wouldn’t care that her father was lying in a hospital bed, just like Anya wouldn’t have cared that Kyle’s brother had died simply because he loved her.
She sidestepped a piece of bubble gum stuck to the hot pavement. Much of her father’s behavior the past few months finally made sense. Guilt and worry had affected him both emotionally and physically, turning him into a recluse. If he’d only told her the truth from the beginning.
Tires squealed behind her. Music blared. Lindsey’s heart thudded wildly. She slammed into Kyle, trying to get out of the way. Her knee hit the bumper of a parked car. Pain shot up her leg. The vehicle zoomed past, skidding toward the exit.
She watched them drive away. It was nothing more than a carful of teenagers on a joyride.
Kyle grasped her shoulders to keep her steady. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Her hands shook as she rubbed the sore spot on her knee.
“Just of bunch of rowdy kids looking for trouble.” He pressed his arm around her shoulder. “Come on.”
Unable to stop herself, she stole another look behind her. The blue van she’d noticed before was circling a second time. She peered into the tinted windows as it passed. The driver had his face turned away from her. Caucasian. Dark, longish hair. She shook her head. She was panicking over a man who was probably out looking for a special on tennis shoes or pet food. Last night’s breakin had affected her more than she wanted to admit, but she refused to let the situation get the best of her. There had to be a way to fight back. To win.
And she would win, she told herself.
She stopped in front of the pet shop and took in a deep breath. “Ready to buy a fish tank?”
Kyle chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
“Back in college, I never would have imagined that one day we’d be shopping for a fish tank together.”
She laughed, enjoying the sensation of a momentary stress release. The automatic doors slid open, blowing out a blast of air-conditioning.
“Lead the way,” he said, letting her go in first.
She caught his boyish grin and felt a tingling sensation shoot to her toes. Somehow, Kyle Walker had managed to waltz back into her world and give her the only sense of stability she could find at the moment. If she weren’t so worried about her dad, fish-tank shopping might have felt like a date—of sorts.
She spotted the tanks toward the back, past the half-dozen birdcages, food products and an outlandish display of designer doggy clothes and toys. The things people spent their money on amazed her.
“Lindsey?” said a familiar voice.
Halfway down the dog aisle, Mrs. Paden, one of her father’s neighbors, stood holding a set of squeaky plush toys. No doubt another gift for the woman’s prized twin boxers, Lulu and Mickey, who were notorious for chasing the neighborhood cats—especially Sammy.
Lindsey shoved her hands into the front pockets of her jeans. “Mrs. Paden. How are you?”
“I’m fine.” The older woman’s smile widened as her gaze traveled from Lindsey to Kyle. “Your father didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend.”
Mrs. Paden was as notorious for her candor as for her marauding boxers.
“A…boyfriend?” Lindsey stammered, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks. “No, this is Kyle Walker. He’s an old friend in town for Sarah’s wedding. Kyle, this is Mrs. Paden. She lives next door to my father.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” Kyle shook the woman’s hand, looking slightly awkward.
Mrs. Paden didn’t seem to notice. “I’d forgotten Sarah was getting married.”
“The wedding was last night,” Lindsey said. “Kyle was the best man and I was the maid of honor.”
Mrs. Paden’s smile widened farther if that was possible. “You always make such a lovely bridesmaid.”
“Thanks.” Lindsey cringed, certain that her blush now matched the red, squeaky fire hydrant on the shelf beside her.
“Tell me, Lindsey, how is your father? I heard he’d been taken to the hospital.”
Lindsey glanced at Kyle, thankful for the change of subject. She was certain that at this moment he’d rather be cooped up in his hotel room than continue this conversation with Mrs. Paden. “My father blacked out, fell and hit his head, so they wanted to keep him under observation for a while.”
“Oh my.” Mrs. Paden’s smile faded. “I’m so sorry.”
“The good news is that he called me a few minutes ago and said that he thinks the doctor will release him later today.”
“What a relief.” Mrs. Paden pressed her hand against her chest and then leaned forward as if she was about to reveal a dark secret. “I also heard about the breakin. It’s frightening to think about where this world’s headed, isn’t it? We’re not even safe in our own houses.”
So much for keeping the attempted burglary a secret from her father. She’d forgotten how hard it was to keep a secret in the neighborhood. Add to that, the mixture of retirees and stay-at-home moms made it the perfect breeding ground for gossip. On the positive side, the sense of community had helped her worry less about her father. If he felt under the weather, one of the women was bound to show up at the door with a pot of soup or a casserole. Still, there were times—like now—when she wished word didn’t spread quite so rapidly through the grapevine.
On the other hand, maybe she could turn the situation to her advantage.
“Did you see anything last night, Mrs. Paden? Around midnight?”
The gray-haired woman laid the set of animal-print bones she held back on the shelf. “Only what I told the police.”
“Which was?” Lindsey prompted.
“A vehicle drove down the alley behind the house about that time. I thought it strange because normally it’s so quiet at night. I was up getting a glass of water at the time and saw the van go by.”
“A van?” Lindsey glanced outside. “Do you remember what color it was?”
“It was dark, so I couldn’t say for sure. Blue, maybe black.”
Lindsey’s mouth went dry. No. It was only a coincidence. Nothing more. There had to be thous
ands of dark blue vans driving around Dallas.
“I keep complaining that there’s nothing but a bare street lamp lighting our driveway,” Mrs. Paden continued. “I’ve told my husband a dozen times that we need the city to install more lights. With crime escalating the way it is, one can’t be too careful. Why, just the other day I was talking to Patty Loveland—she lives five doors down, you know—about how last week’s paper recounted…”
Lindsey glanced at Kyle as Mrs. Paden droned on, and then cleared her throat. She had a lot to do if she was going to have her father’s house ready before he returned home. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Paden. I’d love to stay and chat but I still have a couple of errands to run for my father.”
“You tell him I’ll be over in a day or two with a pot of his favorite soup.”
Lindsey smiled. “I’ll be sure to let him know.”
Kyle stepped into the hospital elevator behind Lindsey and pushed the button for the sixth floor. In the space of a few hours, they’d managed to set up the new fish tank, complete with its colorful—still living—pair of African cichlids, and refile all her father’s paperwork. The only sign remaining of last night’s breakin was the shattered back window that would be replaced on Monday.
He glanced at Lindsey and saw worry on her face. He knew she was still thinking about that blue van—she was convinced it was following them. She’d seen it—or a similar vehicle—twice since the pet shop. Once on the freeway. A second time just outside the hospital parking lot.
While Kyle didn’t want to dismiss her concerns, he had a hard time believing the connection was legitimate. Scammers didn’t need people on the ground to do their dirty work. The Internet was their world. They could function from any country, under any name, with nothing more than a computer and a few generic e-mail accounts. No DNA or hard evidence left behind at a crime scene. That’s what made them so elusive, so hard for the law to bring down. They didn’t follow victims in dark vans and break in to their houses. Why should they when they could access their victims from the privacy of their own homes, or even in some Internet café halfway around the world?
No. The only plausible connection was if Mr. Taylor borrowed money to pay Omah and then accidentally ruffled someone’s feathers when he didn’t pay it back. But even that was a dubious scenario in his mind. More than likely the van was irrelevant and the breakin had been nothing more than a random burglary with very bad timing.
Lindsey leaned against the back wall of the elevator and stared at the floor. “I hate this. Trying to deal with some faceless criminal online is hard enough, but if they’re right here—”
“You have enough to worry about, Lindsey. Don’t drag in the possibility of that blue van being involved.”
She glanced up at him. “It’s possible, though, isn’t it?”
“Just like it’s possible someone put a bomb underneath this elevator.”
She shot him a piercing glare. “Now, that’s a comforting thought.”
“Sorry. All I’m trying to say is, don’t borrow trouble.”
She gave him a half grin. “Are you reminding me once again to stop playing superwoman?”
“Ah. You’re finally catching on.”
The doors opened, and he followed her past the nurses’ station toward room 617.
“Not only am I a slow learner at times, but it’s always been hard for me to give situations over to God.” Her sandals clicked on the tiled floor. “I’m very good at keeping at least a corner of the problem for myself.”
He understood all too well what she was saying. “I admit to being a hands-on guy who wants to be in on every step of the process. That’s why you found me working during Brad’s wedding. A bad habit, to say the least.”
“I’m glad I’m not the only one.”
She stopped halfway down the hall. “I don’t want to do this, Kyle. I’m about to confront my father about the fact that he’s foolishly fallen for a scam and given his entire life savings away to some con man.”
“You’ve got to understand that there’s still a good chance he won’t be ready to admit there’s even a problem,” Kyle said.
Lindsey cocked her head. “What do you mean?”
“He’s so emotionally involved in the situation that he probably hasn’t even admitted the truth to himself.”
“He sold my mother’s porcelain collection and went into debt.”
“Exactly.” How could he tell her that the situation would probably get worse before it was over? “All he needs to know right now is that you will support him no matter what.”
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. “You’re right.”
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Kyle hung back as Lindsey greeted her dad, not certain how her father was going to react to his presence.
“Hey, Daddy.” She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. “They’re letting you out today?”
“The sooner, the better. The food here is terrible. No salt, no sugar, no flavor.”
She laughed and sat down beside him on the bed. “Daddy, do you remember Kyle Walker? We were friends back in college.”
Kyle shook the older man’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you again, Mr. Taylor.”
“Weren’t you that math major who tutored Lindsey?”
Kyle nodded. “The one and only.”
“Then if I remember correctly, I owe you a few thousand dollars. You saved Lindsey from having to repeat classes, and me from having to pay more tuition.”
“Dad. I wasn’t that bad.”
Kyle laughed. “I’d say we can call it even. Your daughter had a rare talent for doing laundry that saved me a time or two.”
“Why didn’t you marry this guy, Lindsey? I like him. He’s smart, funny—”
“Enough.” Lindsey rolled her eyes. “What did the doctors say?”
“I have an infection, which apparently is common with the cancer, but I should live.”
“Is the pain any better?”
“A little. At least my hip’s not broken.” He waved his hand in dismissal. “Enough of me. I need a good distraction. Tell me what you’ve been doing the past few years, Kyle.”
Kyle glanced at Lindsey, wondering how much he should disclose up front. “I own my own business.”
“Really? Well, that’s quite impressive. What exactly do you do?”
Kyle paused. “I’m in…finances.”
“He works with international-fraud cases and security issues,” Lindsey threw in.
Apparently she had no problem getting straight to the point.
“Wait a minute, Lindsey.” Her father’s face paled as he tried to sit up. “Does this have to do with what we talked about this morning? Because if it does—”
“He can help, Daddy.” She pressed her lips together, looking directly at her father.
Don’t crumble now, Lindsey. Your father needs you.
“If I told you I don’t need your help, then I certainly don’t need his help,” Mr. Taylor spouted. “You don’t understand any of this. Either of you. I told you everything was fine. You have to trust me.”
“Yes, but—”
“Lindsey, Abraham would never defraud me.” Mr. Taylor’s jaw tensed. “This is a private business matter. One I went into with my eyes wide open. Any losses I suffer are due to a corrupt foreign government. Not Abraham.” He grasped his daughter’s hand. “He’s my friend, Lindsey. Not a criminal.”
Except Abraham was a criminal. And even if her father refused to admit it, he was worried. Kyle could tell by the older man’s clenched jaw and the beads of perspiration on his forehead.
“Sir, I understand your hesitation in wanting to talk about the situation, especially to me. But you need to know that all we want is to ensure that you’re not taken advantage of financially or in any other way, for that matter. We’re worried that Abraham Omah—”
“I thought I made it clear that I don’t need your help.”
Mr. Taylor shook his head. “I will not discuss this. Not now. Not ever. I told you to trust me.”
“This isn’t about trusting you,” Lindsey said. “It about seeing the truth for what it is.”
“Lindsey, I’ve always taken care of you and your mother financially and nothing has changed.” His mouth tightened. “My business association with Mr. Omah is private.”
“Daddy, I think you’re wrong. You need to be concerned about Mr. Omah.” She got up off the bed and stood beside the window that overlooked the city. “Kyle, please. Tell him what you’ve told me about these schemes.”
Kyle looked at Lindsey’s father. A vein pulsed in the older man’s temple. As much as he wanted to help, the last thing he wanted to do was come between her and her father, or cause further strain on his health.
“And I don’t want or need your services.” Mr. Taylor looked at his daughter, shaking his head slowly. “I…I want…”
His words slurred. He pressed his hand against his chest.
“Daddy?” Lindsey crossed to him.
Her father didn’t respond.
“Something’s wrong,” Lindsey said, panic in her voice.
Kyle ran into the hallway and called for help.
EIGHT
Lindsey felt Kyle’s hand on her elbow as the nurse asked them to stand back from the bed. The doctor entered the room. Lindsey fought to breathe. Her father’s face was pale, his eyes closed. Sharp voices rose above his ragged breathing as they worked on him. If she lost him now…
Kyle pulled her toward the door. “You don’t have to stay and watch—”
She shook her head. “I can’t leave him.”
Memories of her mother’s death swept over her, filling her with grief. Why hadn’t she waited at least until he was out of the hospital to confront him?
“Miss Taylor,” the doctor said after five minutes that had seemed like an eternity.