by Lisa Harris
“Things like bank accounts and property they might own?” she offered.
“Exactly. Companies, nonprofit organizations…anything we can tie them to. If we get lucky, it will all link to a ring Interpol is already tracing.”
Lindsey frowned. Knowing that an international police organization could be involved in her father’s case seemed to further intensify the seriousness of the situation. On the other hand, the more people involved, the more likely they could get to the bottom of things. She started to work, praying that this would all pay off and help to bring down an entire scam ring. That would mean fewer scammers sitting behind computers—and fewer innocent people getting caught in their nets.
“And there’s one more thing.” He leaned against the edge of the table and shot her one of his don’t-argue-with-me looks. “I don’t want you staying at your place.”
“What?” She quirked a brow.
“Just until we know what you’re up against, I think it would be best if you stayed somewhere else. As a precaution.”
Lindsey blinked. “Kyle, I don’t think my life is in any danger. Whatever they want, I don’t have.”
“That might be true, but they don’t know that. And from what we’ve seen today, this person is very determined to get what he’s after.”
She didn’t like this. Her one-bedroom apartment might not be a palace, but it was home, and she didn’t relish the thought of leaving.
“If something happens to you, who’s going to take care of your father?”
She hated where Kyle’s train of thought was going, but even she had to admit he had a point. “I suppose I could stay with a friend.”
Kyle drummed his fingers against the table. “I…I called my sister, and she said you’re more than welcome to stay there.”
Her eyes widened. “You what?”
“I’m sorry, but she’s someone who can’t easily be linked to you. I really think it’s best. She told me it’s no problem.”
“I don’t know.” Lindsey hesitated. “There are complications.”
“Like…”
“What if someone follows me there? I couldn’t live with the fact that I put your sister and her family’s lives in jeopardy—”
“That’s a good point, but I’ve already talked to my sister about that. First of all, we can take extra precautions to ensure we’re not followed. Secondly, my sister’s house has a state-of-the-art alarm system.”
Lindsey still wasn’t convinced. “I’d still feel like an imposition. I haven’t seen your sister in years, and—”
“You haven’t seen me in years. Is my presence an imposition?”
Her heart tripped. “That’s different, Kyle, and you know it.”
“She’s invited us for dinner at six.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“Thanks.” He smiled at her and went back to sorting through papers.
Kyle felt his stomach growl. His sister, Kerrie’s, husband was getting home late from playing golf, which meant dinner was late. The spicy aroma of homemade enchiladas filling the kitchen was torturing him as he unloaded Kerrie’s dishwasher. His six-year-old twin nieces had roped Lindsey into teaching them a few tricks on the trampoline outside and his view from the kitchen window showed that she was good. Not that he was surprised.
“I always thought you should have dated Lindsey.” His sister tugged at her ponytail, then went back to buttering the rolls. Thirteen months his junior, she’d never had a problem with being completely frank with him, and tonight was no exception. “She’s perfect for you, you know.”
He wiped a bowl and stuck it on the top shelf, avoiding her gaze. “We never exactly had a chance to find out.”
“You mean you never took the chance.”
“There were plenty of good reasons.”
“What’s stopping you now?” she countered.
“Kerrie…” He tried to come up with an excuse but couldn’t.
“Now, don’t tell me that dating her hasn’t crossed your mind at least once during the past twenty-four hours.”
“Nope.” He shot her a wry grin. “It’s crossed my mind at least a dozen.”
She beamed. “I knew I was right.”
“But now’s not the time.” He dried his hands on a dishcloth and wiped down the counter. How his sister always managed to rope him into helping in the kitchen, he had no idea. “Her father’s in the hospital and we’re trying to do the impossible by tracking down this Internet scammer—”
“So a man can’t woo a girl because she’s in trouble?” She smoothed down the bottom of her tank top and frowned. “What happened to knights in shining armor showing up to save the day? Sounds like the perfect fairy tale if you ask me.”
“Maybe you’ve been reading too many of those to the girls,” he retorted.
“And you’ve been spending too much time working. You should settle down.”
Leave it to his sister—she didn’t mince words, that was for sure.
The back door slammed. Lindsey stood in the doorway with a puzzled look on her face. How much of their conversation had she heard? Her cheeks were red, but he couldn’t tell if it was from exercise or embarrassment.
She slid on her sandals. “Did I interrupt something?”
“No.” Kyle wasn’t about to give his sister a chance to interfere with Lindsey in the room.
Maybe his brilliant idea of keeping her safe at his sister’s wasn’t quite as ingenious as he’d first thought. On the other hand…he studied Lindsey’s face. Rosy cheeks, clipped-up hair, wide smile. It was going to be hard to ignore his sister’s candid advice.
The twins raced in from outside and grabbed Lindsey’s hands, trying to pull her back outside.
“That’s enough, now. Shut the door, girls,” Kerrie said.
“I’d forgotten how much energy six-year-olds have,” Lindsey said with a smile.
“Try two,” Kerrie said.
Both women laughed. Kerrie shot him a knowing look. Boy, he was in trouble.
Kerrie wiped her hands on a towel, still smiling. “Simon called and is stuck in traffic, so I thought I’d give the girls a bath before we eat if the two of you don’t mind.”
“Of course not,” Kyle said.
“The park behind us is beautiful. Why don’t you take Lindsey for a walk, Kyle. It’s cooled off enough to be pleasant.”
Kyle grinned at Lindsey. There was no getting out of this. Not that he wanted to.
“I like your sister,” Lindsey said once they’d started down the street.
“She’s more of a mother than a sister, but I wouldn’t trade her for anything.”
Kerrie had been right about two things. One, the park was beautiful with its well-kept lawns and stately trees. Kids played on the jungle gym, while a Little League team practiced on the softball field. A mother pushed a baby carriage, joggers ran by…
Kyle glanced at Lindsey. Kerrie had been right about Lindsey, too. In college, he’d wavered between what majors to choose and what girl to ask out. Lindsey had been the uncomplicated, safe friend—for the most part.
Now he knew what he wanted, but the timing was all wrong. No woman had ever made him seriously consider settling down. Until now.
Kyle stopped. The open field blurred before him. Players ran. Fans cheered.
Maybe part of him had spent the past decade wishing for something he’d missed out on years ago.
“Kyle? You okay?”
“Sorry, I was just…” Wondering what it would be like if we were together. “Just enjoying the scenery.”
Coward.
“I called the hospital about an hour ago,” she told him as they started walking again. “They’ve moved my dad to a monitored bed, and he seems to be improving.”
“That’s good.”
“Definitely.”
“Any word on when he’ll be able to come home?”
“He’ll be in at least two or three more days. They didn’t know for sure.”
He c
ould smell her perfume mingling with the scent of freshly cut grass. He looked at her, watching the breeze blow the strands of hair that had fallen from her clip. “You know, I was planning to ask you out that night.”
She stopped and looked up at him. “What night?”
“The night you left to move back home.”
Lindsey gnawed on her bottom lip. “The night I left you a note to say goodbye.”
“Kind of kills a man’s pride, getting a note like that.”
“I never meant to hurt you.” A shadow crossed her face. “My mom was sick, and my dad wasn’t handling things well…I just left. I’m sorry.”
“No, Lindsey.” He shook his head and resisted reaching for her hand. “I never blamed you, and you certainly don’t have to apologize.” He cleared his throat. “I just…I guess I’ve always wondered what might have happened if I had asked you out.”
“I always regretted losing track of you. You were a good friend, Kyle.”
Friendship didn’t sound as good as it used to. “You hungry?”
“For the first time today, yes.”
“Kerrie makes a mean enchilada.” He glanced at his watch. “Simon should be home in a few minutes.”
“Then I suppose we should head back.”
They gazed at each other for a moment, neither of them moving. Then Kyle’s stomach growled and Lindsey couldn’t help but laugh.
Still, something told him things would never quite be the same between them.
Lindsey fell back onto the couch beneath two squealing girls, her lungs burning for air from laughing so hard. She tickled Carly while Caileigh wiggled to pull off her shoe. There was a bonus to staying here—between playing with the twins and hearing a few amusing anecdotes about Kyle, she’d been able to forget what was happening. Kyle’s family was the perfect distraction.
Her purse fell off the edge of the couch onto the carpet, spilling lip gloss, her father’s mail and pens across the floor.
“Girls. I think it’s time to settle down.” Kerrie stooped to help.
“Don’t worry about it,” Lindsey assured her. “I’ve had such a great time tonight.”
“Will you read us a story?” Carly asked.
Kerrie looked at the wall clock and then shook her head. “Not only is it way past your bedtime, little ladies, but I’m sure Miss Lindsey needs a breather.”
“Tomorrow, girls. Okay?”
While the girls kissed their uncle good-night, she picked up her father’s mail. She’d avoided looking at it all day, not wanting to face another letter from a collection agency. She was as bad as her father. She flipped over the top envelope. It was from the insurance company. Her father had taken out a policy years ago, though she had no idea what it was worth.
“How easy is it to cash in a life-insurance policy?”
Kyle looked up from the magazine he was reading. “It depends on what kind.”
She tapped the letter against the palm of her hand. For a moment, she felt she shouldn’t open it.
But then reality kicked in. If they were looking for large amounts of money, this letter could contain important information. She slid her finger across the flap then pulled out the letter. It was a personal note from her father’s insurance agent. She scanned it quickly and dropped it into her lap.
“He canceled his policy last week, Kyle.”
“How much was it worth?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. The letter just says thank you for your business, we’re sorry to see you go.”
He stacked the magazine back on the pile beside him. “Is there a number you could call to find out?”
She looked at the letter again. “Here. Max Banks. He’s an old friend of Dad’s—he included his cell number. Maybe he’ll tell me something.”
She flipped open her cell phone and punched in the numbers. He answered on the third ring.
“Mr. Banks, this is Lindsey Taylor, George Taylor’s daughter.”
“Lindsey. How are you?”
“I’m fine, thanks, though my father’s in the hospital.”
“I’m sorry. Is he going to be all right?”
“I think he’ll be home in a few days.” She rushed on with the reason for her call. “As you know, I have power of attorney for my father, and I need to ask you about something, if you have a moment. I just received the letter regarding his canceling his insurance policy.”
“Oh, yes. I was sorry to lose your father’s business. He’s been a great customer all these years, but even I couldn’t blame him for the deal he got on that boat. I say if you’re going to retire, you might as well enjoy it.”
“A boat?” Surely her father hadn’t sold his life-insurance policy to buy some seaworthy vessel.
“Mahogany hull, twin diesel engines…” He let out a low whistle. “Your father had me wishing I could retire.”
“A boat?” she repeated.
“You sound surprised.” His voice cracked. “Don’t tell me this was a surprise?”
“Honestly, I…” Lindsey didn’t know how to respond.
“He got the check, didn’t he? We mailed it to him early last week.”
“I don’t know, to be honest.” Her chest began to constrict. “Could you tell me exactly how much money the policy was worth?”
There was a short pause on the line. “Just over sixty-five thousand dollars.”
TEN
Sixty-five thousand dollars.
Lindsey tried to focus on the lively discussion about II Corinthians 4 currently under way in the singles’ Sunday-school class at her church, but she couldn’t shake that dollar amount. Or the dozens of questions flying around in her mind. She scribbled down the questions in the notebook she kept in her Bible for taking sermon notes. Why had her father canceled the policy? Had he cashed the check? If so, what had he done with the money? And why didn’t he trust her enough to talk to her about it?
Her temples pounded. She pressed her fingertips against her forehead and massaged, trying to alleviate the pain. Sixty-five thousand dollars couldn’t vanish into thin air. And there were only four options she could think of. She made another column on the page and started a bulleted list. One: Her father still had the check. Two: He’d cashed the check and stashed the money somewhere. Three: He’d wired the money to Abraham Omah, though so far they hadn’t found a corresponding Western Union receipt. Or four: He’d paid the money to someone he’d borrowed from.
But if the last option were true, who had he borrowed from?
She tapped the pen against the paper, wishing that the answers would come as easily as the questions. Sixty-five thousand dollars was a lot of money. That much money could have supplied plenty of motivation to whoever broke in to her father’s house. She shook her head. It seemed that the more she tried to understand what her father was up against, the more daunting the reality became.
She stole a peek at Kyle, sitting beside her with his Bible open, obviously interested in the topic. She suddenly felt very unspiritual. Coming to church today had been a concession. She’d rather have been at the hospital interrogating her father—the only thing that stopped her was the doctor’s strict orders that he rest. So she’d accepted Kyle’s offer to bring her to church. But listening to a lesson, no matter how good it might be, was the last thing she felt like doing. Not that she blamed God for this situation—at least not completely. She mainly blamed herself for not seeing what was going on before her father had dived headfirst into this bottomless pit.
Kyle nudged her with his elbow. She flipped her notebook shut, shooting him a guilty look. She hadn’t heard a single word for at least thirty minutes.
“This is good stuff,” he whispered.
“I know.” She leaned back against the folding chair. “I can’t concentrate.”
She forced her mind back to the Apostle Paul’s encouragement in II Corinthians, currently being read out loud by Bryan, their teacher. “‘We are hard-pressed on every side, but not crushed, perplexed, but not in despair�
��’”
Crushed and perplexed. Throw in the despair and that was exactly what she was feeling at the moment. She opened her Bible to the passage. Verse sixteen caught her eye. Therefore we do not lose heart.
Right. Don’t lose heart. How in the world was she supposed to do that? She flipped her notebook open and stared at her scrawled observations. Despite Abraham Omah, a ransacked house and the missing sixty-five thousand dollars, the Bible was telling her not to lose heart. And that wasn’t all. Paul clearly said that in spite of being hard-pressed and perplexed we were not crushed.
Or in despair.
She blinked back tears. Then why do I feel so desperate, God?
She glanced around the class. Two-dozen familiar faces filled the room. Some were friends she often had dinner with after the Sunday-night service. She’d joined the softball team, participated in local outreaches and even enjoyed singing with several of them on the chorus. Yet there were few—if any—she’d ever bared her soul to.
Taking in a deep breath through her nose, she tried to relax. Somehow she had to get through today without falling apart. The last thing she wanted to do was make a scene. And bursting into tears in the middle of church would definitely qualify as a scene. It might be biblical to share a burden with others, but it was much easier to keep the family soap opera to herself.
She focused on Bryan’s words, determined to get something out of today’s lesson.
“Verse eighteen,” he was saying, “reminds us to fix our eyes not on what is seen but what is unseen.”
Ouch. She was definitely looking at the temporary. Lost money, lawsuits, Internet scammers…As difficult as the situation might be, if her eyes were fixed on heaven, she’d also be thinking of the steady rock she had in her Heavenly Father. Yes, there was temporary pain and consequences of her father’s actions, but whether he had a million dollars in the bank or a debt of a million, did it really matter? In the end, all that mattered was that their relationship with God was right, that she forgave her father—and herself—and that she didn’t allow hatred toward one man to plant bitterness in her heart. The end of verse eighteen said it all. What is seen is temporary. What is unseen is eternal.