Born in Mystery

by Susan Kearney

  That made sense. The stalker could be anyone—a former teacher or neighbor or friend. There was always the possibility a complete stranger had become fascinated with her as she paid for her groceries. Yet they had to go with the odds that favored the stalker being someone she knew.

  “What about that guy at the nursing home, Fred? He certainly has the opportunity.”

  “What reason would he have to stalk me? He sees me all the time. Besides, he’s got a girlfriend.”

  “All right. Why don’t you tell me about your first job.”

  “There’s not much to tell. It was a one-attorney office. I was one of three legal secretaries, and another woman came in twice a week to balance the books and to pay the bills.”

  “And your boss?”

  “Harry Pibbs is a happily married man with two teenage daughters. He practices divorce and estate law.”

  “Tell me more.”

  “Harry was my mentor. He encouraged me to finish college and pursue a career. He’s been almost like a second father to me. Although he’s still in good enough shape to ride a motorcycle, it’s not him. I might as well try to picture Santa Claus as a stalker.”

  “Did he ever make a pass at you?”

  She winced and drew her knees tighter to her chest “Do you think I would have worked there for three years if he had? Besides, he’s been a friend of the family for years. He settled the estate for Gran after my parents were killed.”

  “All right let’s put Harry toward the bottom of your list. What about clients? Some of the estates must have involved large amounts of money.”

  “I only typed the documents.”

  He moved toward the pool’s deep end but turned to keep her in view. “Some of the divorces must have been bitter. Couples fighting over assets, that sort of thing.”

  She shrugged. “So what?”

  “Did you ever hear clients mention valuables they didn’t want their spouses to know about?”

  “All the time.”

  Finished scrubbing, he tossed the brush in a bucket. “Did any of these add up to significant amounts of money?”

  She shook her head. Then suddenly, she jerked her chin up. “There was a case like that. A bitter dispute over child custody with both parents wanting control over the kid’s trust fund. But what could this have to do with me?”

  “I’m not sure.” He stooped to check the chlorine level. “Put the client on your list along with your boss. We need to come up with some names no matter how unlikely.”

  She scribbled on the memo pad. “Then what?”

  “Then we find out if they have an alibi while we were being shot at.”

  BIANCA AND CRAIG waited for the elevator at Jarrod’s. Although she was grateful he’d agreed to let her visit Gran, she was unsure how she felt about his insistence on accompanying her.

  “Thanks for bringing me.”

  Mesmerized by the sudden warmth in his eyes, she savored the feeling of closeness. Today was the first time he’d treated her with anything but indifference since the night she’d told him about the stalker. He’d been so furious then, she’d been afraid he wouldn’t govern his anger, and what shreds of control she’d had left began to crumble. When he’d focused the harsh power of his dark eyes on her, she’d realized his appearance of a businessman was a thin veneer.

  After her heart had stopped pounding, she’d figured out that beneath Craig’s eminently sensible surface, he hid a frothing vitality, a furious tension and sizzling heat. Yet while the fire in his eyes had blazed with fury, and though he might hate her for putting the lives of his children in jeopardy, she was certain he had wanted to take her to bed.

  No matter how much she enraged him, she’d felt his compelling fascination with her. She’d sensed the powerful sentiments were almost beyond his capability to fight, and it had taken all her willpower to stand up to him when she should have been running away.

  Looking at him now, the facade of a business executive wrapped securely around him once more, she saw the epitome of polish and sophistication. His gaze was tender, his actions patient and considerate. Yet, despite his tailored ivory shirt and pressed khaki slacks, she couldn’t forget the man she’d glimpsed or the passions he kept hidden behind the cultured exterior. And that man excited her, intrigued her.

  He held the elevator door open for her politely, considerately, as if his anger had never been, and she wondered what was really going on in his head. Was he still furious with her for jeopardizing his children’s safety but managing to hide his rage? Or had his anger dissipated with her explanation? Neither his tone nor his demeanor revealed any clues.

  Even more importantly, she wondered why she cared. If he thought her a conniving bitch who’d deliberately risked his children’s lives, nothing she said would change his opinion. She only wished she didn’t mind. How could she prove that beneath the layers of lies she’d been forced to tell that she’d meant well?

  Craig joined her inside the elevator and punched the button for Gran’s floor. “This week is busy for me. While I can stay in touch by phone, text and E-mail, I’ll have to go into the office to sign a contract that needs to be notarized. I might not bring you back soon, so warn your grandmother.”

  “Okay. I don’t want her to worry.”

  They spoke to each other like polite colleagues. Was he attempting to make up for scaring her half to death the other night? Or was this a tactic to put her at ease so she’d confide in him? Or was he simply doing the best he could in an impossibly horrible situation?

  The elevator stopped, and the doors opened one floor below their destination. Bianca automatically stepped aside to make room. She looked up to see Fred holding the door open with his tennis racquet while he escorted an elderly man by the elbow.

  Fred pressed the button for the fifth floor, nodded at Craig but spoke to her, his gaze taking in her newest disguise with a grin. “Glad I caught you.”

  Bianca’s heart stuttered with worry. “Is Gran okay?”

  “She’s fine.” Fred reached into the pocket of his white tennis shorts and retrieved a note. “Someone came by the old neighborhood looking for you this morning. I’d intended to give this message to your grandmother, but now I won’t have to trouble her.”

  “Thanks, Fred.” She reached for the note, hoping her hand wouldn’t reveal her inner trembling. Who could be looking for her?

  As if sensing the worry she couldn’t shake, Craig draped his arm over her shoulder. She started to open the folded message when the elevator jerked and glided upward.

  Fred stiffened, then lunged to keep a firm grip on the unsteady older man. “By the way”—Fred turned to Bianca with a raised brow and a tanned grin showing off his white teeth—“you might want to remind your grandmother that her feet won’t blister if she wears socks.”

  Bianca rolled her eyes and grinned back. “I’ll try to convince her, but you know how she is.”

  Fred laughed. “Don’t I, though? She’s always been stubborn.”

  The elevator deposited them on Gran’s floor. Before the doors swished closed behind her and Craig, she’d opened the folded note and read it silently. “Have exciting news. How about dinner tonight? Give me a call.” The note was signed “Kendrick,” and he’d left his phone number.

  Sensing Craig’s burning curiosity, she handed him the note. He scanned the paper quickly before returning it. A sharp edge sliced his tone. “How did Kendrick know he could find you here?”

  “He doesn’t know I moved Gran to Jarrod’s.” She corrected his mistaken impression. “Fred picked up the message from Gran’s house. His parents live a few doors away and have watched the house for me ever since I had to move out. Kendrick must have learned I’d moved and changed jobs. The only contact he has is Gran’s house. He knows I’d never sell the property.”

 
Her parents’ house, the home she grew up in, had too many memories for her to consider giving up the property. The attic had been her favorite place to play. When she thought really hard, she sometimes caught the scent of her mother’s perfume in the old clothes Bianca used to play dress-up. The things were in storage now, the house leased, but she still dreamed of someday going home to live. But first, she had to figure out who was stalking her.

  Craig’s frown deepened until his forehead furrowed. “How often does Kendrick invite you to dinner?”

  “Every few months. Why?” She stuffed the note into her purse and folded her arms over her chest. She didn’t like Craig’s personal questions about her past relationships, but under the circumstances, she allowed him more leeway than she would have another man.

  His tone rose in conjecture. “You don’t think his timing odd?”

  They’d stopped beside Gran’s door. Bianca didn’t knock, preferring to finish this conversation in private. Glancing into Craig’s face, she noted how intently he watched her. Nervously, she licked her bottom lip. “What are you implying?”

  “I’m not sure. In the past two days, you’ve been attacked in the park and shot at. You might run back to an old boyfriend for protection after such scares.”

  “Kendrick isn’t trying to scare me into running back to him,” she said emphatically, hoping he wouldn’t want more explanations. She should have known better. Craig could be relentless when he wanted answers. She only wished the explanations she wanted to keep to herself didn’t cause her so much pain to admit.

  He arched an eloquent brow.

  She raised her chin and spoke as if she didn’t care. “I doubt Kendrick wants me back.”

  “Then he’s a fool,” Craig mumbled under his breath.

  Odd how his words muted the sting of past failure. Even better, was it possible Craig cared for her more than he’d admitted?

  Before she could question him, Gran opened the door, and Bianca realized their words must have been louder than she’d thought. As they said hello, Bianca told herself Craig couldn’t possibly have feelings for her. She figured Craig meant he thought Kendrick a fool not to want her in bed.

  All thoughts of Craig’s meaning flew from her mind as Gran limped to the sofa.

  Bianca sucked in a gasp and hurried to her side. “What happened?”

  “A little accident.”

  “I can see that. I’ll bet fifty dollars you haven’t had a doctor look at your foot.”

  Gran flushed guiltily. “It’s my ankle. I just twisted it a bit during tennis.”

  “Fred said you were fine.” Bianca took Gran’s elbow. “Come on. Lean on me.”

  Craig slipped an arm around Gran’s waist and half carried her across the room. Between them, they soon had her seated on the sofa with her foot propped on a pillow. The cat leaped into her lap, circled and settled.

  Gran leaned back with a groan. “Fred would have insisted on an X-ray. The way that kid fusses over me, you’d think I was his own grandmother.”

  “You fed him enough cookies to be his grandmother.” Bianca shook her head. “Besides, Fred wouldn’t have this job if it wasn’t for you. I’m glad he looks after you when I can’t be here.” With Gran’s injury, she felt especially guilty about not giving her grandmother her phone number. Even Bianca’s infrequent visits could endanger Gran, too. Damn, what a mess! “You shouldn’t have hidden the injury from Fred.”

  “Actually, the pain was just a twinge this morning. The swelling is worse now.”

  Craig walked into the kitchen and returned moments later with ice cubes in a plastic bag. He wrapped the bag in a hand towel and placed the ice gently on the swollen ankle. “Do you have aspirin?”

  Gran leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “Ah, that feels better, thank you. Check the medicine cabinet over the bathroom sink.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  As soon as Craig disappeared, Gran’s eyes popped open. Then she winked and gave Bianca an impish smile. “You found a good man this time. Don’t let him get away.”

  “Our relationship is strictly business. That’s what I came to tell you.”

  Thankfully, before Gran could argue, Craig returned with a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin. “Bianca may not be able to visit for a few days.”

  Gran reached for her hand and squeezed. “Sugar, he found you again?”

  With Gran’s injury, their original plan had to change, and she wished Craig hadn’t revealed the stalker had found her. “Don’t worry. I’m staying here until you’re up and about.”

  “Absolutely not. I’ll be fine.” Gran shooed her away. “You go with your young man and let him protect you. Disappear as long as you have to. I understand.”

  Tears clogged Bianca’s throat. In spite of Gran’s bravado, she heard a catch of fear in her voice. Until recently, her grandmother had always seemed so young and vital. She was both mother and father, the only relative Bianca had except for the great-uncle she’d prefer to forget.

  Gran had been there when Bianca needed her. Now when it was her turn to repay the love, she couldn’t deny Gran the care and attention she needed. “Gran, I’m not leaving you.”

  Craig took a chair opposite the sofa, rested his elbows on his knees. “How about a compromise? I’ll pay a nurse for a few days to help until you’re on your feet again. Bianca will stay with me.”

  Gran gave Craig’s plan an A-OK signal. Bianca still hated the idea of leaving her grandmother alone. Since moving Gran again hadn’t been an option—not with the waiting list for facilities as nice as this one—Bianca’s visits here had been the one part of her life she’d refused to change.

  Sensing her agreement, Craig picked up his cell, found the appropriate list of agencies and handed the phone to Gran.

  Gran chose quickly, spoke softly and handed him back his cell phone. “The agency promised to send someone right away.”

  Craig’s offer was a generous solution. Although it was more to protect the babies than out of any particular kindness to Bianca or Gran, gratitude filled her. “Thank you. When I’m working again, I’ll repay you.”

  He simply nodded, and she thought she caught a warm gleam in his eyes, a heated look implying he preferred another kind of payment. But after the cool way he’d been treating her, she must have been mistaken.

  Bianca waited until Gran swallowed the aspirin and set down her water glass before speaking. “Has anyone asked about me?”

  Gran’s fingers paused in scratching her cat between his ears. “No. And if they did, I’d never mention your name.”

  Craig stepped to the window and peered out. “It’s important that you don’t tell anyone where to find Bianca.”

  “I won’t slip up.” Gran rolled her eyes at the ceiling. “Besides, she hasn’t even told me where she’s staying.”

  A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. “Are you expecting company?” Bianca asked.

  “Only if he’s tall, rich and male,” Gran quipped.

  Bianca stepped to the door and peered through the peephole. “It’s Uncle Bob. What should I do?”

  Gran pulled a pillow over her face. “Tell him I’m broke.”

  Craig frowned as Bianca rubbed her brow. He joined her by the door. “Who is Uncle Bob?”

  “Gran’s younger brother. The one I told you about.” She reached for the knob, wondering what she had done to bring so much bad luck at one time. She didn’t like to be unkind, but right now they had more problems than they could handle. Experience had taught her that Uncle Bob would be difficult to get rid of if she let him inside. Knowing she had no real choice, she steeled herself for the inevitable confrontation, wondering what Craig would think of her only other family member. Craig was generous enough to pay for a nurse for Gran, but no doubt Uncle Bob was here to try t
o mooch off them.

  Craig’s hand closed over hers. “Don’t open the door.”

  “He’s three sheets to the wind. If I don’t let him in, he’ll start yelling at the top of his lungs.” Bianca shuddered and fought down embarrassment. “Someone will hear him and call security, who’ll notify the police. It’s better to get rid of him more quietly.”

  Gran groaned. “Tell the old bastard I died.”

  “Not a chance.” Bianca shook off Craig’s hand and yanked open the door, uncaring if Bob Carlson heard her last statement. “He’d hang around, hoping to collect your last dime.”

  As usual, Uncle Bob looked successful. His distinguished gray hair and pressed suit belied his alcoholism. Gran’s brother had been one of those surprise babies, arriving into the world almost twenty years after Gran. Now in his mid-fifties and in surprisingly good physical shape, he strode forward, his sharp eyes darting back and forth. As he stomped past her into the apartment, she caught a whiff of sour wine and stale cigarette smoke beneath the overpowering scent of peppermint.

  Blocking the older man’s progress, Craig advanced. With his legs spread, his feet planted in the carpet and his arms crossed over his chest, he cut a classic picture of intimidation. Uncle Bob didn’t notice.

  He shifted sideways. “Got anything to wet my parched throat?”

  Gran lifted up her glass. “Here’s some water.”

  Bob grimaced. “How about something with a bite?”

  “You know Gran doesn’t drink,” Bianca lied, wishing she and Gran could have been spared the annoyance of Bob’s visit. Every family had one bad apple. Unfortunately, Bob was one of those individuals who tended to show up when he’d had too much to drink. “Why are you here?”

  Bob’s eyes narrowed to tight, disapproving slits. “Same as you, missy. Paying my respects to family.” He opened the refrigerator then explored a few kitchen cabinets as if he owned the place. “If you cared about me, you’d offer me a drink.”

  “How about ten bucks?” Craig reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet.

  Gran gasped.

  Bianca sighed as she fought down embarrassment. “Once you pay him, he’ll expect constant handouts.”