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Rings On Her Fingers (The Psychic Seasons Series Book 1)

Page 8

by ReGina Welling


  ***

  An astute judge of character, Gustavia had pinpointed Logan as a user and a sneak from day one, and did not hesitate to make her opinion known. When Julie announced their engagement, Gustavia had been horrified. Realizing her open animosity was not helping, she'd called a truce while inwardly vowing to watch that moronic loser like a hawk. If he put so much as a toe out of line, she was going to do something drastic.

  Now, sitting at her computer with the intention of working on her latest book – this one about a young dragon – Gustavia began to type. At least, she thought she was typing her book; but, instead, all she saw on the screen were the words danger and call him spilling down the page. Clearly her subconscious was trying to tell her something. However, when she lifted her hands from the keys, the words continued to scroll their way down and down, endlessly repeating, until she realized there was a good chance she was not alone.

  Raising her voice, Gustavia said, "Estelle, is that you?" The cursor stopped abruptly. The word yes appeared on her screen. Even knowing this was Grams, whom she had deeply loved, Gustavia shivered.

  "Is Julie in danger?" she asked. Again, "yes." This was no surprise to Gustavia.

  Given Logan's obvious dislike, she hated asking the next question. "Am I?" and the answer was, yes.

  "I need to call Zack, don't I?" Gustavia said, frustration evident in her tone. She thought she heard a faint sigh before, again seeing the word, yes appear.

  "Ah, Grams, you know how much I hate to do that." The sigh sounded again, no more than a whisper of breath.

  "Okay, fine. But can you at least tell me where the magic garden is?" This time the answer was, no, followed by the feeling of a caress on her cheek; then the curtains fluttered slightly, and Gustavia knew the visitor was gone.

  Many people, Logan included, made assumptions about her intelligence based on the way she dressed, her interests, and her career. It was a mistake to take Gustavia Roman at face value; she had a shrewd and calculating mind hidden under a flamboyant exterior. Her instincts were highly developed, and she was loyal to her friends. If she needed to kick some ass, she would do it without question or reservation. When Gustavia was in, she was all in.

  Grumbling in protest, but determined to protect her friend, Gustavia gave in and did something that almost made her skin crawl. She called her brother.

  Zack Roman was a cop. One who was considered good at his job. And, big shock, they did not get along. Zack disapproved of pretty much every one of his sister's choices: he thought she was not living up to her potential; and, with the exception of Julie—whom he considered normal—he despised all of Gustavia's friends. For her part, Gustavia was annoyed because Zack was a talented artist and, instead of following his passion, she felt he had kowtowed to their father. She never liked to see potential wasted. So, they fought nearly every time they were in the same room.

  Zack was not thrilled to hear from his sister.

  "What do you want? Is there a ghostly perp or did the Tarot cards tell you I was in grave danger?"

  "Cut it out, Zack. This is important. It's Julie," Gustavia stated.

  "Okay. I'm listening." Zack had only met Julie the one time but he had liked her. She was the most normal friend his sister had ever brought home.

  "You know she got engaged to this guy Logan, right? Well, there is something hinky about him. I think he's a con man."

  "I need more to go on than just your intuition, Eloise." He refused to call Gustavia by her preferred name.

  "You know I wouldn't call you unless it was important. You can pull that stick out of your backside and at least check this guy out. If it turns out there's nothing to find, which I seriously doubt, I'll let it go. But, for Julie's sake, I have to ask. You know I would never call you unless it was necessary."

  Zack knew this was true; he also knew how much he wished he could feel differently about his sister. This constant animosity was difficult because underneath it there was love, even if neither could or would pull it to the surface.

  "Fine, but I doubt there will be anything to find. Give me the particulars, and I'll see what I can do."

  Gustavia realized she had almost no concrete information about Logan but told Zack all she could, vowing to dig deeper at her earliest opportunity. The siblings hung up, both wishing the conversation had gone better and both thinking it could have gone worse.

  The conversation with Zack pointed out how little they knew about Logan's past; someone that tight lipped must be hiding something, but what? What she needed was the inside scoop. Maybe the best way to get that was to go undercover. She called Amethyst and invited her to go on a recon mission the next day. It involved shopping. They were going incognito.

  ***

  Amethyst walked into the thrift shop where she was supposed to meet Gustavia. Looking around, she didn't see her friend anywhere so she browsed through a few racks to kill time. The only other shopper in the store was a corporate type: blond, with her hair pulled back into an elegant chignon and wearing one of those power-suit outfits. Amethyst didn't pay her much attention until, after five minutes or so, she began making a lot of noise by picking up shoes and putting them back on the rack as loudly as she could. Amethyst was beginning to get annoyed. She looked at her watch and wondered what was taking Gustavia so long. Then the power suit bimbo walked right up to her and said, "Hello." Oh my Goddess; it was Gustavia, in disguise.

  "Well, look at you." Amethyst said.

  Gustavia, eyes sparkling with amusement, said, "You didn't recognize me at all, did you?"

  "No, I didn't," Amethyst shook her head in emphasis. "I thought you were just another one of those corporate types."

  "I think I could walk right up to Logan and he wouldn't know it was me. Thankfully, I don't plan to get that close, but it is good to know I probably could. Now, it's your turn."

  Amethyst gestured to her hair and eyebrows. "I don't think I can pull off that type of transformation."

  "Yeah, you're going to have to wear a wig, and let's hope eyebrow pencil will cover that purple."

  Amethyst looked doubtful. "A wig? Those things never look real."

  "Since Logan has never met you, all you have to do is pull off a business look. He won't be looking that closely. I saw a wig behind the counter that's made from human hair; it can't hurt to at least try it."

  Getting Amethyst into normal clothing took almost an hour and enough outfits to warrant a movie montage. She had a knack for finding pieces in suitable shapes but in colors that were not remotely businesslike or, if she got the colors right, the shapes were all wrong.

  First she managed to find an '80s number in a somber navy blue that had short, puffy sleeves and a set of ridiculously huge shoulder pads. Next she found a nice updated suit with a well-cut jacket and a pencil skirt that fit her perfectly, but was a hideous shade of purple. She drooled over that one, but Gustavia vetoed it and chose a businesslike suit in chocolate brown. To assuage Amethyst’s aversion to normal-wear, they picked out a beautiful scarf to add a bit of color. Finally, appropriately dressed and wearing the wig and makeup, they decided she would pass scrutiny. All they had to do now was drive into the city and start gathering Intel. Since Amethyst didn't own a car, they took Gustavia's making sure to park far enough away that Logan would not see it and connect it to them.

  On the way into the city, Gustavia outlined her plan of attack. She had done some basic research online and come up with a cover story. She had some funds to invest and had made an appointment to talk to the head of the firm. Amethyst had an appointment with Logan. She, too, would pose as a potential client: one who was interested in hearing about properties in and around the area near Julie's home.

  As they strode through the lobby with empty briefcases, both women were slightly nervous but determined to play their parts well. They wished each other luck as they took separate elevators, each one going to a different floor.

  Gustavia stepped off the elevator and onto marble tile, her heels clicki
ng all the way to the tall front desk made from dark wood polished to a gleam. Behind the desk a young, dark-haired man professionally fielded calls and, giving Gustavia the once-over, smiled and held up one finger to indicate he would be only be a minute.

  Once he was off the phone, Gustavia gave him the fake name that she had used to make the appointment and was told Mr. Conti would be with her shortly. As she waited, Gustavia looked around the office. It was definitely a high-end establishment, if the furnishings were any indication. In one corner was a waterfall feature surrounded by an arrangement of tropical plants. Expensive paintings hung on the wall leading to the corner office. Gustavia recognized a Picasso and a Cezanne.

  The office door opened, and her heart leapt into her throat as Logan exited the room speaking over his shoulder, "I have that appointment right now; you won't be disappointed." He walked right past her as she stood in the reception area. His eyes passed right over her with no sign of recognition. It was several minutes before her heart slowed to its normal pace.

  After being escorted back to Mr. Conti’s office, had to hide a smile; it looked like Amethyst wasn't the only one wearing a wig today. Mr. Conti, apparently follicly challenged, wore a fairly ugly toupee. He invited her to sit and offered coffee, which Gustavia politely declined.

  She followed her script emulating the cool and professional tone she had heard her parents use while growing up. It was not hard to convince the man she had investable assets. Gustavia was telling the truth, more or less. She had a trust fund; if she wanted to touch it, she would have had plenty to spend. She explained she lived north of the city and preferred to invest in her own, local area. Conti tried to steer her toward several current projects in the city until she firmly informed him if he had nothing suitable in her area, she would leave her card and he could call her when he did.

  Finally realizing she was not about to budge, he explained he did have something in the works, but the deal had not been finalized yet. He then described Julie's property stating that, once they had access to the acreage, the house would be torn down and the land developed into a high-end community of condos.

  Aha, Gustavia thought. She knew it. Logan had been planning something totally shady from the beginning. Wait until she told Amethyst. She dreaded the thought of telling Julie, though.

  Keeping a lid on her emotions, she asked if he had an investor's packet for the property. Then she asked who was heading up the project. Exactly as she'd suspected: it was Logan.

  Gustavia wasn't sure if it was appropriate to ask for information on Logan's background in light of her prospective investment, but she did it anyway. Conti didn't seem to think this was out of the ordinary and supplied some basic details from Logan's resume, including the last place he had worked. Then she shook hands with Mr. Conti, left the office, and took the elevator down to wait for Amethyst.

  She waited for what seemed like forever, but was only about ten minutes, before the elevator doors opened and she saw her friend, anger practically shooting off of her like sparks. Gustavia shook her head slightly to indicate they should not talk about their experiences until they got outside. They walked the few blocks back to the car in silence, Amethyst seething and Gustavia contemplative. How would she break the news to Julie?

  Once in the car, Amethyst exploded. "That sleaze bag hit on me. And then, he tried to sell me a condo in some community they are planning to build on Julie's property. He said they would be building within the next three months; and, if I wanted in, I should leave a deposit today because the units will go fast."

  "Well, now we know what he has been up to. I found out where he worked before this job. It's too bad I couldn't think of a way to get more personal information about him. I would love to see his personnel file."

  Amethyst continued to rant most of the way back home while Gustavia stayed quiet. She had to tell Julie; and, even worse, she had to call her brother again and give him all the information she had found. If it helped him track Logan's past, it would be worth it because there was no way he was getting his slimy hands on Julie's home or on Julie herself, if Gustavia had her way.

  Chapter Thirteen

  After booting up his laptop the next morning, Tyler initiated a low-level search on Logan Ellis. Not surprisingly, all the data he found was recent. Over dinner the night before, he had used his interviewing skills to pry as much information out of Julie as he could without arousing any suspicion. Logan claimed to be from a small town in Indiana, but there was no birth record to be found.

  Until he popped up at his present job, there was no record anywhere of Logan's existence. This was not the first time he had seen this type of pattern. Tyler's biggest story to date had been an exposé on a con man who targeted the elderly, and everything about Logan was ringing the same bells in his head. So, he went a bit deeper.

  Most people who learn how to lie convincingly are able to do so by telling at least some truth. He initiated searches throughout the entire state of Indiana for male births listing either the first name Logan or the last name Ellis and expanded the search to the year before and after the birth year Julie had given him. Those search parameters yielded better results. Now he was looking at six possibilities.

  He crossmatched these with death records eliminating two from the list. Of the four remaining, two were easily located; they still lived in their home towns, were married and had children. Now, he was down to two: Logan Stewart and Kyle Ellis. His gut told him Kyle Ellis was the one; but, like any good journalist, he knew he had to verify his information.

  He ran the names of both boys and their parents through public records search. Logan's parents had divorced when he was two and his mother remarried. Her new husband adopted her son; under his adopted name, it was easy to track him to Ohio where he was now living and working.

  Thornton Ellis, the man listed as Kyle's father on his birth records, was currently living in Michigan City, Indiana, a guest of Indiana State Prison. Miranda Ellis, Kyle's mother, had been looking for her son for years. She'd blogged about her search in the hope that going public might bring new leads. On her blog she'd speculated that her ex-husband, after taking her son from her, had probably lied to keep Kyle from trying to make contact.

  Tyler fired off an email to her asking for more information, but what most interested him were the photographs she had posted on her website. There was one of Thornton Ellis holding a young boy in his arms. The picture was just fuzzy enough that Tyler couldn't tell whether the boy might have grown up to become Logan Ellis or not, but the man he had met looked a fair bit like Thornton. It wasn't enough for definitive proof, but it was a good start.

  ***

  Zack Roman was on a similar track. He'd begun his research by running Logan's name through the DMV records and coming up empty. He expanded his search to surrounding states with the same results; then he went nation-wide and still turned up nothing. It happened sometimes: records fell through cracks in the system, but he had to admit his sister was probably right. This guy was starting to trip a few triggers.

  He scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed. He'd wanted Eloise to be wrong. It was small of him; he admitted that fact freely, if only to himself. But, just the same, he'd hoped to show her up even if it didn't make sense. Somehow, the need to score points off of her was still strong even though he was an adult.

  Probably it was his own insecurity that made him unable to accept her with all of her new-age ideas, but he had a copy of every one of her books and was secretly proud of her writing ability. He knew she was successful, but he just could not overlook her lifestyle: look at the way she dressed. Her hair. She took pride in not acting anything like what he considered normal. He'd hoped Julie, being more level-headed than Eloise's other friends, would have been a better influence; but, so far, it had not happened, and he didn't think it ever would.

  Drawing his attention back to the search he'd begun, Zack tried a trick that had worked for him in the past. He checked out Julie's Facebook page to see
if he could find a photo of Logan. He then used the tagging feature to see if any other names might come up in conjunction with the facial recognition software the site used for images. It was a crude method, but effective. Even people on the run sometimes ended up on Facebook, making it a great resource for research. He knew of four busts already this year using the website.

  Facebook tagged Logan as Ellis Thornton and also as Kyle Miranda. Each hit was another red flag. Each hit meant another reason he would have to admit to his sister her instincts had been right. Man, he hated that. He was already feeling drawn into this mess, and he was pretty sure it was going to get worse before it got better. Zack initiated the runs on both names and got up to pour himself another cup of coffee, his fourth of the day.

  Ellis Thornton popped on an assault charge in Indiana. Gotcha, Zack thought, as he looked at the mug shot and saw a younger, rougher looking version of Logan Ellis. Ellis Thornton had been booked for assault after a bar fight that witnesses said he'd started when one of the regular patrons had called him out for manhandling a woman. Thornton had beaten the guy badly, but had gotten off with community service. Kyle Miranda had a clean arrest record, though there'd been allegations he had conned some people out of some money. It had been smallish amounts each time. Since nothing could be proved, no formal charges had been filed; but Kyle had been on the radar until he vanished. It looked like he laid low for a few months and then reappeared under the name of Logan Ellis.

 

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