Time for Raine

by C. Barry Denham

  Raine had continued the banter nonstop, right up until nap time, fluttering between him and Noelle, talking about the planned events. She was particularly excited about the play, having read the book and seen the animated movie at least a dozen times in the week prior to the trip. The Lion King’s villain’s sultry accent and sarcasm played like a broken record in Sean’s mind.

  He had to put the morning’s events behind him. He could think of no better way to accomplish that than to change his thoughts to Noelle. He had studied her earlier, on the set. Try as he might to keep it all in perspective, it would be hard to deny the affection she showed for his daughter. Yet he was having difficulty determining where this relationship with Noelle might be headed, if anywhere. Most of the time she was all work and never deviated from the professionalism that had distinguished her as one of the best in her field. Noelle always seems to know what to say to Raine and how to react to what his daughter said. At other times, she loosened up and joined them in the banter and fun, as if she was part of the family. This behavior both warmed his heart and gave him cause for alarm.

  What exactly were her intentions, outside the evaluation of Raine’s gift? Or did she harbor any? Was Sean trying to read something into Noelle that wasn’t there? The dynamics of the situation confused him.

  Then there was guilt. There was no denying that it was there, rearing its ugly head. Adding to the mix was that she was such a beautiful woman. Not only physically, but in every sense of the word. He wasn’t going to kid himself; he was physically attracted to her as well, to the point of staying on edge when she was around. Lately, she was around quite a lot.

  He continued the battle with his tie, made more difficult with a keen awareness she was merely steps away in the connecting suite. He subconsciously listened for the door between the main room of the suite and her room, waiting for it to open, breaking the silence. Was she sleeping? Was she reading? Was she watching TV? He thought about her constantly. He was excited about the events that afternoon, as if he were about to go out on a date. Was that what the rest of the day would be? One long date with her?

  He gave himself one final once-over in front of the mirror, took a deep breathm and checked his watch. The escort would be at the door in about an hour and a half. He straightened his coat, rechecked his collar and tie, and took another deep breath. He splashed a light portion of cologne onto his hands and then his face, and walked out into the bedroom to check on Raine. She needed to be rested, so she wouldn’t be bouncing off the walls, as she often did when she was tired. She stirred as he walked the bed. He tiptoed past and into the main suite, quietly closing the door behind him.

  He stood at the bar, and the door to Noelle’s suite opened. Their eyes met, but words evaded him. She walked slowly across the room toward him, and never looked away. There was something different, something new and predatory in her expression. She was dressed to kill. He couldn’t quite put his finger on exactly what was different about her.

  He forced himself to breathe.

  She smiled, and his legs felt weak.

  His heart was in trouble. He was in way over his head.

  ****

  Noelle had never seen a more beautiful man. He stood across the room like a deer in headlights, gorgeous. He wore a navy sport coat, khaki slacks, bright white shirt, and peach tie. Each piece of clothing seemed designed and tailored perfectly for those broad shoulders and slim hips. Time stood still as she walked slowly toward him. His eyes fixed on her advance. The closer she got, the more her heart hammered. She stopped a few feet from him and smiled.

  “You look…stunning,” he said.

  “I was about to say the same about you.”

  He moved ever so slowly toward her, stalking her, drinking her in with his eyes. She willed her legs to take her closer. She thought she might keel over, yet strangely, she had no fear. If she did faint, she hoped she would fall into his arms. He licked his lips and leaned closer still.

  If he doesn’t kiss me right now, right here on this spot, I will die.

  “Daddy?”

  The sleepy sound came from behind them.

  The spell was broken. A different Sean Sampson appeared before her eyes. The passion in his eyes faded. Noelle found humor in the moment and laughed. From the look on his face, he did not.

  “Hold that thought.” He turned toward the door behind him. “And yes, I would like a drink, if you would be so kind as to make one for me, please.”

  “It would be my pleasure.” She moved toward the bar, walking in his wake. The subtle scent of his cologne was dizzying.

  He groaned, took a deep breath, and knelt to Raine. He lifted the child into his arms and made his way to a chair.

  He took the drink she offered and drained it quickly. She sat across from him and found her glass of Chablis quite tasty as well. Raine asked for a rare cola. When Sean approved, Noelle brought it to her. After all, everyone needs a bite of the forbidden apple once in a while, especially while visiting the biggest apple of all. She sat again and gazed at Sean. In spite of the opportunity lost, she was at peace.

  Where would we be now if Raine were still asleep? Seconds ago, we were in another world.

  The little girl’s timing was impeccable—just in time to bring Noelle back to reality.

  “I can’t wait to get my dolly Felicity. She lived during the times the colonies gained their independence from England. Did you know that, Daddy? And she had a friend named Elizabeth. I want to get them both, since they were friends, but I know we can’t afford two dolls. Anyway, I know I’ll just love her. Did a lot of girls back then have red hair? Elizabeth’s hair is blonde. I wonder how I would look with blonde hair, Miss Noelle.”

  She rambled on and was soon wide awake. She jumped from chair to sofa, sofa to stool, stool to chair, not pausing for answers to her own questions. Noelle wondered if the planned events could ever live up to her excitement and expectations.

  A loud knock on the door reverberated around the room.

  Chapter Twelve

  Raine stopped in her tracks and looked toward the suite door. She wore a strange expression.

  “We’ll be right with you, guys.” Sean opened the door but never looked away from Raine. “My little comedian, I want you to hit the potty before we leave.”

  “Mr. Sampson?” A man in dark suit and dark tie moved inside the room and produced a badge. “I’m Special Agent Storm, FBI.” He turned quickly to another suit, who stood behind him. “This is Special Agent Pete Willis. May we come in, please?”

  “What’s this about?” Sean looked again to Raine, who scurried over to Noelle.

  “Just a few quick questions, Mr. Sampson.” The agent turned toward Raine and then smiled innocuously to his partner. Before Sean could object, the second agent moved inside the room and stood beside his partner. Storm closed the door behind him.

  “Let’s wait in your bedroom while Daddy talks to these gentlemen,” Noelle said to Raine while Sean examined the identification badges.

  “Ma’am,” Willis said. “Please remain where you are. We have a few questions we want to ask the young lady.”

  “Like hell you do.” Sean felt a surge of adrenaline. “Noelle, take Raine to her room, please.”

  Willis glanced to Storm, who nodded, imperceptibly. When the ladies were gone, Sean approached the agents. “Now, what is this all about?”

  “Mr. Sampson, there is no need for hostility. We don’t mean to cause any alarm.” Storm flashed a smile that did little to reassure Sean.

  “It’s a little late for that,” Sean said.

  “Mr. Sampson…” Willis indicated a chair. “May we sit?”

  “Do I have a choice?” He nodded to both men, and they sat. He remained standing.

  “Please, Mr. Sampson.” Storm nodded to the sofa across from them. “Please sit.”

  Sean hesitated for a long moment before taking a seat. “This better be quick. We have plans.”

  “Mr. Sampson, your plans won’t b
e compromised,” Storm said.

  “We’ve detained your escort for a few minutes while we get some answers,” Willis said.

  Storm gave Willis a poisonous glance. “What my colleague means is that your escorts have agreed to give us a few minutes to ask you some quick questions.” Storm’s statement seemed directed more to his partner than to Sean.

  “About what?” Sean felt the heat rise in his face.

  Storm spoke in a low volume, and calmly. “Mr. Sampson, this morning at eight fifty-four a.m., the FBI was contacted by and subsequently interviewed a young lady by the name of Susan Feldon, personal aide for Senator Charles Blane—I believe you met her and the senator in the Green Room at Global Studios earlier?”

  “And?”

  “Ms. Feldon was quite upset and offered up certain information she supposedly obtained from your daughter that might directly implicate the senator in some possibly unlawful activities relative to the misuse of federal and state funds.” Willis’s tone was more accusing, and he spoke as if reading Miranda rights. “Stop me, Mr. Sampson, when I get to a point that sounds familiar to you.”

  “And what the hell does that mean, Willis?” Sean stood.

  “Sit down please, Mr. Sampson.” Storm held his hand out. “Pete, there’s no need for that kind of tone here.”

  Sean stared Willis down before he settled onto a chair.

  Storm continued, “Mr. Sampson, as my partner was saying, Ms. Feldon stated that, during a casual conversation between the senator and your daughter, she, your daughter that is, asked the senator—” He took a small notebook from his jacket pocket. “She asked the senator why he took the money and hid it in a far away bank.”

  Storm looked up from his notes. “When the senator scoffed at the statement, your daughter looked to Ms. Feldon and asked her to write something down. She subsequently gave the aide information concerning a bill recently passed in Congress. Your daughter told her to take the information to the ethics committee, and they would understand what the information meant.”

  The blood drained from Sean’s head. He quickly regained his composure.

  Willis chimed in. “Mr. Sampson, the information your daughter gave Ms. Feldon included government form numbers relative to a recent congressional appropriation. The ethics committee reviewed those forms thoroughly and noted some discrepancies, including transactions linked to a questionable organization. They subsequently issued a directive to further investigate the transactions and the senator, and your daughter’s knowledge of said transactions.”

  Sean had had enough of Willis’s innuendoes. The action he wanted to take—namely knocking Willis down a few notches—was not feasible, so he took the second best course and remained seated, directing his voice toward Willis. “I know you have the authority to be here, and you’re probably just doing your job, but if you imply again any wrongdoing whatsoever by my daughter, I will kick your ass six ways from Sunday—Special Agent or not. Do you understand?”

  Willis swallowed hard and sat motionless.

  Storm stifled a laugh. “Mr. Sampson, please,” he pleaded, holding his arms out. “We’re curious to know how your daughter came by this information. That’s all. We aren’t stupid; we know your daughter could in no way be assumed to be dishonest or involved in any fraudulent activity. And I think Willis would agree after having this little chat with you that you are most probably not involved in any wrongdoing either. We just need to get a clear understanding how your daughter came to have the information she presented to the senator and his aide.”

  Sean rubbed his eyes and ran his hand through his hair. “I think you need to talk with Dr. Victor.”

  ****

  If Sean had any doubt Noelle Victor knew what she was talking about, in relation to Raine and the gifts with which the child had been blessed or cursed, depending on how one might view the situation, it dissipated as quickly as mist in the desert during her short talk with the agents. Although Sean was in the middle of a word game with Raine on his smartphone, one he was losing miserably, he listened through the open door to the bedroom. She had them eating out of her hand. If what she said was even soaking in. He would find it hard to concentrate on the message, given how she looked in that sexy dress.

  After a few more minutes, which unfortunately ran twenty minutes into the planned events of the day, Willis smiled and asked Sean nicely if he would come back into the room. Noelle said it was okay if Raine came back also, although the child protested and wanted to stay and finish her father off with a word she said would net eighty-seven points.

  “Sean, I think it’s all right for these gentlemen to ask Raine a couple of questions.” Noelle gave him a nod. “Providing, of course, they stay within the agreed-upon parameters.”

  Sean’s protective instincts kicked in, but he relented.

  Raine sat between him and Noelle on the couch, holding hands with them both. She had a death grip on his hand. Storm took the lead. He knelt in front of Raine and smiled.

  “Hi, Raine, my name is Sam Storm and I work for the United States Federal Bureau of Investigation. Doctor—I mean, Miss Noelle—thought it would be all right if I asked you a couple of questions. Is that okay with you?”

  “I saw the forms online,” Raine said.

  Sean smiled, not the least bit surprised she had cut to the chase.

  Storm looked taken aback, and he tried to shake it off with another strained smile. “You saw the forms online?”

  “Yes, sir. Well, I had to go to several government websites before I could figure it out, but yes, sir, I figured out what was going on by looking at the forms online.”

  “Okay, sweetie.” Storm looked more confused than ever. “Let’s back up for a minute, and then we’ll have you guys on your way to your tour in no time.”

  “We’re going to the Empire State Building.” Raine’s eyes lit up.

  “I see. That sounds like fun.” He forced another uneasy smile. Storm was clearly not in control of the inquisition but forged ahead anyway.

  “First of all, can you tell me what you meant when you said you figured out what was going on? Can you tell me what you saw that clued you?”

  “Duh,” Raine said.

  Noelle lost it, laughing out loud. Sean couldn’t stop a smile.

  “It’s a mathematical equation,” Raine continued. “A statement of funds disbursement and things. Ouch, Miss Noelle, you’re squeezing my hand!”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie.” Noelle patted Raine’s fingers.

  “That’s okay.” Raine took a moment to get back on track. “It’s a compilation of debits and credits, in relation to the appropriation and resulting expenditures. I see why nobody found it, because at first look I almost missed it, too, even though it’s a matter of public record. Somebody really worked hard to cover it all up.”

  “Cover what up, Miss Raine?” Willis asked. His subdued tone seemed to surprise even Storm.

  “Hang, on, Pete.” Storm turned back to Raine. “Continue, please?”

  “Well, when you look at the numbers, at first glance, it looks like everything’s okay. But I saw the line adjustments, and then saw some of the numbers were misstated. I needed to go to another link to see what those adjustments were supposed to be. And that’s when I found out it was a circular monetary anomaly.”

  “A circular monetary what?” Storm rubbed his face.

  Raine giggled and pointed to Storm. “Gotcha. I was just kidding, mister. I made those last words up.”

  Storm seemed to be trying to find some humor in her gotcha but didn’t crack a smile. Raine picked up on the agent’s irritation and stopped smiling.

  “The numbers didn’t add up. There was about a million dollars missing.”

  “I see.” Storm took out a handkerchief and wiped his brow. His forehead furrowed into a frown. “But doesn’t this happen every day? I mean, appropriations aren’t always spent, are they?” He looked around at the others with a look of confusion on his face. “Doesn’t some of the u
nspent or unaccounted-for money from any appropriation eventually come back to the treasury?”

  Sean found it amusing that his three-year-old daughter seemed to be giving a fiduciary lesson to federal agents. He struggled to wrap his mind around this concept.

  “Yes, sir.” Raine yawned. “But the money never came back to the treasury. Some went to an organization that hates people who aren’t white and some went somewhere else. I found some brokerage records where that bad senator bought 21,600 shares of OneCom a week before. The buy was not in his name; it was in a corporation’s name. But after digging deeper, I found out he was involved. He had me fooled, but I traced the shares purchase back to a company he indirectly controls.”

  “OneCom?” Willis asked, so softly Sean could barely hear him. Sean braced for another Duh.

  Raine hesitated but passed. “OneCom is one of the companies that got the money from the bill the senator pushed through the appropriations committee, the same one he silently controlled. When that bad senator’s company bought the shares a week ago using the missing money, they were worth fifty-one dollars each. I bet today OneCom is worth a lot more after announcing the expansion plans made possible from the money they got from the bill.”

  Willis studied his cell during Raine’s statement. He shook his head in disbelief and in a whisper admitted, “She’s right. OneCom closed at sixty-five yesterday. It’s at seventy-two today.”