by Lisa Harris
FIVE
Danielle stood inside the display window of The Bamboo Closet the next morning, adjusting a shimmering gold fabric panel while Sarah eyed the display from the front. Deciding on what color backdrop matched best with the new shipment of plump, embroidered cushions was the last thing she’d planned to be doing this morning.
That and having to go to the bank to track down over a quarter of a million dollars of stolen money.
She grabbed the thin metal chain of an amber Moroccan lantern lying on the floor beside her and headed up the short ladder.
Money wasn’t the only thing that had kept her tossing and turning throughout the night. There was also Jason. She hadn’t been prepared for the added complication of yearning for the one man—besides Quinton—who’d ever captured her heart.
Somehow, though, his broad shoulders, five-o’clock shadow and that familiar half smile that always managed to coil her heart into a tangled pile of emotions had managed to drift in and out of her dreams all night long.
Jason had been right about one thing. Like that terrifying moment when their dune buggy had flipped, and she’d realized there was nothing either of them could do to stop it, her world had managed to spin out of control. And she had to find a way to set things right again.
“Danielle?”
She glanced down at Sarah from atop the ladder and finished hanging the lantern, wondering how long she’d been trying to get her attention. “Sorry.”
“You okay?”
“I’ve just got a lot on my mind.” Danielle stepped back off the ladder to study her work. “How does it look so far?”
“I love it.” Sarah gave a nod of approval. “Especially the added touch of the throw pillows and lanterns. The bright oranges and yellows are very Moroccan and definitely eye-catching.”
“Let’s hope so, because window dressing was Rae’s thing.” Danielle dragged the teak armchair an inch closer to the long panel, thankful Sarah hadn’t decided to quit, as well.
“How about another lantern in that bare spot,” Sarah suggested. “A blue one this time.”
Danielle scooted the ladder two feet toward the window, then grabbed another lantern. “I still don’t understand what happened to Rae. She’s always been so dependable.”
Until she quit—without any warning—in the middle of dressing the shop’s front window.
“Did you try calling her again?” Sarah tugged on a lock of her bleached-blond hair.
“Three times, but either her phone is off, or she’s not answering. All I know is the message I got on my answering machine. Her boyfriend broke up with her, and she’s moving back to Texas.”
“All in the course of twenty-four hours.” Sarah shook her head. “If you ask me, their breakup was inevitable. I never did like that guy….”
“He was a bit…rough.” Danielle readjusted the bottom edge of the fabric. “But I thought she liked living here.”
“So did I.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised. Rae always was a bit impulsive, and love tends to do crazy things with your emotions.” Danielle gnawed at her lower lip, trying to ignore the similarities to her own life. “We’ll have to look at hiring someone else.”
“Let me know what I can do to help.”
“Thanks, I will.” Danielle stepped down from the low platform to grab one of the terra-cotta pots from the pile of accessories she’d laid on the floor and set the piece on the top of the matching teak coffee table. Her finances were in ruins, and here she was arranging furniture and the latest home accent decor.
Sometimes life made no sense.
Danielle glanced at her watch. “Listen, it’s almost a quarter to nine. I’ve got to be at the bank when it opens. Kate called and said she’d be a few minutes late, but if the two of you don’t mind keeping things going today, it would help me.”
“Anything wrong?”
“Yes, actually.” Danielle stood up and tried to stretch the kinks out of her back. “It looks as if someone just stole a huge chunk of money from me.”
“What?” Sarah almost dropped the mosaic vase she was holding. She set it down on the wooden table then looked back at Danielle. “How in the world did that happen?”
“They found a way to transfer over a quarter of a million dollars from my home equity account.”
“Wow. I can’t believe someone would do that. What are you going to do?”
“A friend of mine is meeting me at the bank. Hopefully, with his help, we can sort all this out.”
Sarah placed a narrow glass bowl with colored stones next to the vase then stepped back to look at her work. “Who is this guy?”
“He’s an old friend from college.”
“Just a friend?”
Danielle swallowed her irritation as she started folding up her stepladder. “Yes, just a friend.”
“Sounds interesting.” Sarah sat down on the edge of the platform and picked up the can of cola she’d left on the floor. “When’s the last time you actually went on a date?”
“On a date?” Danielle shook her head. “We’re not going out, if that is what you are implying. He owns a company that works in online security and has offered to help me fix this mess I’m in. Period.”
“So you’re telling me that the flush on your cheeks has nothing to do with this guy?”
“No.” Danielle gave the hanging fabric one last tug. Just because the blue-eyed, six-foot-two bachelor had swept in like Prince Charming to save the day didn’t mean she had to swoon like some fairy-tale princess. Because there was one big problem with this scenario: there was much more at stake than merely giving her heart away again.
*
Fifteen minutes later, Danielle was crossing the parking lot in her gray dress pants and purple cardigan, praying she felt as confident as she looked—and that the bank transfer they’d discovered last night would be easily rectified. Hadn’t she already survived one of life’s curveballs that had left her a widow before she turned thirty?
Which was why she needed to believe that life was going to continue as usual with routine things like taking care of Lauryn and the shop, dinner with friends from church and hanging out with her mom. At least that was what she wanted to believe. Staying up until 1:00 a.m. scouring the internet for everything she could find on recent cases of bank fraud and identity theft had left her head numb with the reality that more than likely there weren’t going to be any easy solutions.
As promised, Jason was waiting outside the main door of the bank, holding two cups of coffee. She eyed his profile where he stood at the top of the stairs, wearing jeans paired with a button-down shirt and jacket. How could this ruggedly handsome man make her heart skip a beat like she was twenty again? Except he wasn’t here just for her. He wanted to find out the truth behind his friend’s murder, as much as she did.
He handed her one of the coffees. “It’s not an espresso and this isn’t Venice, but I was told that the local gas station has the best brew in town. And it’s fresh.”
“Thanks.” She took the hot drink and felt her cheeks warm. He’d always known how to make her smile. “I think I heard the same rumor.”
“So, are you ready for this?”
“Ready to find out how the bank lost over a quarter of a million dollars?” She took a sip of her coffee and frowned. Having a bank manager confirm the transfer was only going to make the situation all the more real. “I just want to get this over with.”
He brushed against her arm as they started for the front door together, forcing her to try and ignore the tingling sensation it evoked. As much as she wanted to fight it, Jason still made her heart pound and her breath catch.
“Everything okay at the store?”
Danielle caught the concern in his voice as she looked back up at him. “I had an employee quit this morning. I can’t help but question the timing.”
He crinkled his forehead. “That is a bit odd. I’ve got Philip tracking down who might have hacked into your accounts. I can ha
ve him do a background check on the employee if you’d like, but to be honest, I don’t think it’s going to be easy finding this guy.”
“Why?”
He swallowed the last sip of his coffee, then dumped the empty cup into the trash bin near the bank entrance. “We’re not dealing with your typical scam artist. We’re dealing with a professional. He—or she—knows enough about you to take on your identity far beyond the normal trail of paperwork. And he knows how to cover his tracks.”
Danielle pressed her lips together. “So what now?”
“We talk to the bank and find out exactly what we are up against.”
They slipped inside the glass doors of the bank behind a woman dressed in a pink jogging outfit. Danielle took in the sleek feel of the bank’s interior with its modern furniture, sharp angles and polished floor. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually stepped inside. Internet banking and late drive-through hours made avoiding the teller lines inside far too easy.
A minute later, they located the manager, Mrs. Wang, along a row of uniform desks, all with gold nameplates. The woman sitting behind the desk looked ultraprofessional in her tan pant suit and white starched shirt that peeked over the jacket’s collar, making Danielle realize just how thankful she was for Jason’s presence.
Mrs. Wang looked up from her computer and offered a bright smile as if to emphasize that everything was fine in the world. “Can I help you?”
“My name’s Danielle Corbett, and this is Jason Ryan.” She forced a weak smile in return. “I have questions regarding a $350,000 transfer from my home equity account that I never authorized.”
“That is a serious accusation.” The woman’s smile faded slightly. “Please. Both of you take a seat.”
Danielle slid into the plump leather chair she was offered beside Jason and set her coffee on the edge of the woman’s desk. “It wasn’t meant to be an accusation. Simply a fact.”
Mrs. Wang tapped her pen against the desk. “I’ll need to see some identification first, please.”
Danielle pulled her Oregon driver’s license from her wallet and slid the card across the table, wondering if the photo ID would be enough to convince the woman that she really was Danielle Corbett, and that she hadn’t authorized the bank’s transaction.
Mrs. Wang studied the photo then punched a few numbers into the computer. The printer on the edge of the desk began to hum, and a moment later, she handed Danielle the printout. “You can check over the statement, but the details of the transaction are all here.”
Danielle started at the top, looking for any indication that something was amiss with the bank’s paperwork. Name, social security number, driver’s license, home address…Danielle’s stomach muscles cinched, competing with the wave of nausea that overtook her. Everything matched. Which meant the money had been transferred from her line of credit to some other account—probably offshore—where she’d never see it.
“Everything here looks to be in order, but…” Her voice rose in pitch as she handed the printout to Jason for him to double-check. “I assure you that I did not authorize this transaction.”
“As you can see, Mrs. Corbett, the paperwork is quite straightforward.”
“Mrs. Wang, we can see what the computer says, but the bottom line is that this transaction was never authorized.” Jason reached over and squeezed her hand, helping to counteract the deepening surges of frustration. “Can you tell me how this alleged transfer was made?”
“Yes, I remember this particular transaction actually.” Mrs. Wang tapped her pen against her desk and narrowed her brow. “Mrs. Corbett came in to arrange the withdrawal. We later called her house to get the confirmation because the approval amount changed after I received it.”
“But I never spoke to anyone here.” Danielle closed her eyes momentarily, drawing strength from Jason’s calming presence and the anchor of his touch. How had he become the only thing in her life that made sense? “You don’t believe I’m really Danielle Corbett, do you?”
Mrs. Wang slid her pencil behind her ear. “To be honest, I don’t know what to think.”
“Why would I come in when the money was already transferred? That doesn’t even make sense. If I already had the money, as you say I do, there would be no reason for me to be sitting here.” Danielle tried to take in a calming breath, but nothing about the situation made sense. “Who spoke to woman who made this request?”
Mrs. Wang glanced at an empty desk across the room. “Sam Shepherd. He’s out today.”
Of course. Danielle let go of Jason’s hand and grabbed her beaded gray handbag off the floor and pulled out her second round of ammunition. Identification papers. She dumped the file folder she’d pulled from her locked safe at home. Birth certificate, marriage license, social security card, passport….
Mrs. Wang sifted through the pile, still looking flustered. After a few moments, she made photocopies then pushed the papers back across the desk to Danielle. “I will add these documents to your file. If you believe this is a case of identity theft, you will need to file an incident report with the police. Secondly, you will need to send us a certified letter laying out exactly what has happened. We will then do our own investigation into the matter.”
“How long with that take?” Jason asked.
“Typically, ten days to discover if there is a problem. In the meantime, I can flag your account and contact you regarding any unusual activity.”
Which meant there was nothing left to do for the moment.
Danielle slung her bag over her shoulder and stood to leave. Something caught her eye, stopping her midstep. She turned back to Mrs. Wang. “What about the surveillance cameras? Whoever came in to authorize the transaction wasn’t me, and your cameras should be able to prove it.”
Mrs. Wang’s gaze avoided Danielle. “The bank’s policy is to cooperate with law enforcement who have a court order.”
“Then we will ensure that they get one.”
Danielle headed out of the bank at Jason’s words without looking back, wondering why she was the one who felt like the guilty party.
SIX
“Danielle, wait.” Jason caught up with her halfway down the bank steps.
“This is crazy.” She dumped the rest of her coffee into the trash then turned to face him. “How did I suddenly become the bad guy here? I feel like I’m being scrutinized for something I didn’t do. Isn’t it the bank’s business to ensure that my money is safe, and that someone can’t just swoop in and wipe out my account? You saw that woman’s face. She didn’t believe me.”
“It doesn’t matter what she believes at this point. There are certain protocols she has to follow no matter what her personal thoughts are. The bank will investigate your claims and, if everything goes the way it should go, you’ll be able to put this behind you.”
“After a bank investigation and a pile of police reports?” She started across the parking lot. “What if they don’t rule in my favor? What if they don’t believe I didn’t have something to do with this?”
He stepped in front of her halfway down the row of cars, turned her gently toward him, then rested his hands against her shoulders. “I know this isn’t easy, but let’s not borrow trouble.”
“I’m trying not to.” Her shoulders relaxed slightly as she looked up at him, her breathing still ragged. “But what do we do next? I can’t just wait ten days for the bank to sort things out.”
He shot her a half smile and brushed away a strand of her hair. What he really wanted to do next was kiss her.
“I thought we could go out for breakfast,” he said instead.
“Breakfast? We’re in the middle of a crisis and all you can think about is food.” She shook her head. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you’re not taking this seriously enough.”
“Just answer one question for me.” He folded his arms across his chest. “What did you eat today?”
“I made some oatmeal for Lauryn—”
“I asked wha
t did you eat today?”
She frowned. “A cup of freshly brewed coffee and half a cup of a gas station variety.”
He quirked a brow. “That’s what I thought.”
“Jason, I don’t have time—”
“I take this entire situation very seriously, but with all that is happening, you have to take time to take care of yourself.”
Ten minutes later, Jason picked up the plastic menu sitting in front of him and tapped it against the wooden table. Danielle’s choice of restaurants wasn’t bad, though he preferred his regular spot that offered the simple choice of one flavor of coffee—black with cream and sugar on the side. Not that it really mattered, he supposed.
Danielle slid into the bench across from him. She shoved a strand of her silky, cinnamon-brown hair behind her ear and shot him a sheepish grin. “As I remember, you always did think that eating was the solution to everything.”
“But I’m right this time, aren’t I?”
She grabbed one of the menus. “I suppose I am hungry.”
“Good. Because what the hotel constitutes as breakfast, and what I constitute as breakfast turned out to be two completely different things. Which means I’m hungry, too.”
“Sounds as if your new elitist taste buds are another thing that has changed.”
He smiled, enjoying the friendly banter between them. “Like you, I run a business which means I have a certain…reputation to keep up.”
“Late night dinners overlooking the Columbia River for your upscale clients, catered meals for your executives in the boardroom.”
He had to laugh at her snooty impression. “Exactly.”
“So you enjoy running a business?”
“I love it, actually. I have the freedom to expand in whatever way the market decides to go, and I certainly don’t miss the bureaucracy and politics I’d be dealing with in a bigger company.”