by E B Corbin
✽ ✽ ✽
Revised Edition
EB Corbin
Copyright © 2018 Edana Corbin
All rights reserved.
ISBN-13:9781791379124
No part of this book may be scanned, reproduced or distributed in any manner or printed form without permission. Thank you for respecting the work of this author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons or places is purely coincidental.
DEDICATION
To Bob, Jessica, Cole, Chris, Spencer, Rory, Gracie, Tessa and Aela
You are my favorites
What they are saying about EB Corbin’s trilogy—Too Many Secrets, Book One
“Exceptionally well-written, Edana Corbin has churned out an absorbing, but easy-to-read mystery for her readers.” Readers Favorite
“Corbin’s novel is fast-paced and full of action and adventure. The story will keep readers turning pages and keep them on their toes. (It) has enough twists and turns to make it interesting. The story will leave readers satisfied at the end.” Critic’s Review from BookLife Prize
“I would definitely recommend this to my cozy mystery customers.” Bookseller in Michigan
CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
TWENTY-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Epilogue
Chapter One
It started somewhere over South Dakota and continued until they reached PDX. She thought her brain would explode.
Eyes screwed shut, Sam felt the bump and bounce, followed by a thud. As much as she hated it, she welcomed the final thump.
The wheels slammed hard, rose, then banged down again, sending a jolt through her body. Her stomach flew into her throat and she tightened her grip on Henry’s arm. She didn’t ease her hold until the speed slowed to what felt like a crawl. Henry smiled at her before he unbuckled his seat belt. “I told you there was nothing to worry about.”
Sam felt the wind buffet the wings of the plane and watched lightning strike off in the distance. “Yeah, sure. A Class A thunderstorm means nothing to you.”
“There is no such thing as a Class A thunderstorm. Thunderstorms are either ordinary or severe.” Henry tried not to proselytize, but he couldn’t help himself. “There are four types of storms: single-cell, multi-cell cluster, multi-cell lines, and supercell.”
“Okay, wise guy, then what we just went through had to be a supercell.”
“Hardly.” Henry sighed and stood to get their carry-ons from the overhead bin. He grinned as he grabbed her small wheeled suitcase and handed it to her. “But it was severe. Although I never thought the plane was in trouble.”
Sam wrinkled her nose at his back as she followed him to the exit door, rolling her carry-on behind her. “Goody for you. I thought we were going to plummet to earth during the whole flight.”
“Goes to show what you know,” Henry said. “When it comes to danger, let me decide how bad it is. It’s what you hired me for, after all.”
“Your job is to have my back if my father sends a hit man, not to guard against natural disasters,” Sam growled at him.
They continued down the ramp leading to the main terminal in silence. Sam’s thoughts were filled with relief that her feet were on solid ground again. Henry’s thoughts were on finding a way to get her to trust him without revealing too much. Perhaps the best thing would be to keep his mouth shut. He’d managed to keep his secret for more than fifteen years. No reason to blab about it now. Especially when he had no idea how to break the news to her. There were some things about him she didn’t need to know. That no one needed to know, lest they think he was bonkers.
The first-class seats on Delta were a plus, affording ample legroom for his six-foot-two frame. Henry also appreciated the fact that it gave them first crack at leaving the plane.
Sam hated flying to begin with, and the turbulence from Milwaukee to Portland was something she’d rather forget. Thank God this was the longest flight she’d have to face.
As far as she knew, the con had started in Portland. Her plan, such as it was, was to return the money her father had fleeced from his unsuspecting victims in the same order as he’d hustled them.
Henry stopped as they entered the main building. “It will probably take some time for our luggage to get unloaded. Do you want to grab some lunch while we wait?”
“We ate on the plane,” she told him. “You can’t still be hungry!”
“I’ve learned to eat when I can. You never know when you’ll get the opportunity again.”
“We’re in Portland, for God’s sake, not some outpost in Afghanistan. There are coffee shops on every corner. I need to call Norman Bledsoe and set up an appointment to see him tomorrow.”
“I thought you were going to observe the victims first, to plan the best approach,” Henry said.
“I am. I’ve been thinking we can pose as a married couple looking for our first home. We can get to know him when he’s showing us properties.”
Henry shook his head. “I don’t know. Married? That’s kind of dishonest—and scary. You want him to trust you, not be wary because you lied to him.”
“Okay, if you have a better idea, I’m all ears. We don’t have to be married,” Sam snickered, then headed toward the carousel earmarked for their flight.
Proving Henry right, no suitcases poked through the flaps in the wall as she stood watching the empty conveyor circle the area. But she could hear banging from the other side.
She swung the handle of her carry-on in front of her and pulled out her phone. “In the meantime, I’m going to check up on the Portland-area news. We might need to do or say something to convince Mr. Bledsoe that we are legitimate.”
“We aren’t legitimate,” Henry said. “Not if you’re lying to him about buying a house.”
Sam paid no attention to his statement as she googled newspapers in Portland, Oregon. She discovered that The Oregonian was the largest paper in the Pacific Northwest, but she couldn’t find a way to access it online without paying. She subscribed to it using the new business debit card she’d received a few days ago. She would cancel the subscription when they left town. In the meantime, she might as well use her father’s ill-gotten gains on something worthwhile.
While she fiddled with her phone, Henry kept a watchful eye on the passengers gathering around the empty turnstile like a flock of hungry geese. No one appeared out of place to him—no one to concern himself about, at least. But he remained vigilant. It would be just his luck to let his attention wander and in that minute a threat to Sam would pop up. He knew he had to pair caution with discretion. There was too much at stake to let anything slide.
When the first bag popped from the opening, Sam slipped her phone into her pocket and turned her attention to watching for the bright-red ribbon she’d attached to her plain black bag. Practically half of the sui
tcases were black and she didn’t want to chance grabbing the wrong piece of Samsonite or having someone else walk away with her bag. Henry had no such problems with his khaki duffel. It stood out the second it burst through the slot.
Ten minutes later Sam’s ribbon-trimmed suitcase followed.
Because they stood at the bottom of the chute, Henry grabbed both bags as soon as they reached the conveyor belt. He wheeled hers behind him while he hefted his on his shoulder along with his carry-on. Sam thought about offering to help, but Henry seemed intent on trying to push his way out of the mob, which appeared to be increasing as more luggage poured out.
By the time they made it through the gaggle of people, Sam was ready to scream. She hated airports—the crowds, the frantic pace, the way every sound became amplified in the cavernous corridors.
Time spent at the Hertz rental booth increased her irritation. They did not have any SUVs available even though she had specifically reserved a Suzuki online. The choice was between a Chevy pickup truck or a tiny Chevy Spark. She began to argue until Henry touched her arm and whispered that the Spark would be easier to navigate than the pickup. Begrudgingly she took the small car.
A shuttle waited to transport them to the lot for the rental vehicle. Mumbling to herself, she climbed into the van without making eye contact with any of the other passengers. This trip was not starting out the way she’d hoped.
Even though it was gray and misty when the shuttle pulled into the rental lot, she stepped outside and exhaled in relief—until her suitcase splashed into a puddle left over from the thunderstorm. She fought the urge to stamp her feet and yell at the toddler who clambered down the steps behind her, jumping into the pool of water with glee, throwing specks of mud onto her jeans.
Henry smiled and took her arm to lead her to the office where they could pick up the fob to their toy car. The girl behind the counter couldn’t have been more than sixteen years old. She took one look at Henry, sucked in a breath and whipped off the black-framed eyeglasses she wore. Her ponytail wagged as she searched a drawer for the paperwork to go with the Spark, all the while glancing up at Henry every few seconds as if he were Channing Tatum.
Sam had seen other women admiring Henry behind his back, but never one so obvious. She looked Henry over with detachment and decided that he presented quite an attractive image. Funny how it never affected her.
His black leather jacket covered broad shoulders and tapered to his waist as if it were made especially for him. For all Sam knew, it could have been. Henry had disappeared for three weeks after she had returned the money her father had conned from his father. He said he needed to wrap up a few things before he started to work for her, and Sam now wondered if part of that included updating his wardrobe.
Copper hair fell over his forehead in an inviting manner. Sam had to admit he was good-looking enough to turn heads with his high cheekbones and chiseled chin. The dimple in his left cheek flashed when he smiled, causing both women and men to do a double take. She figured she was immune to his appeal because she considered him more an employee than a possible romantic interest.
Sam had to admit she’d had her doubts about him at first, but as an ex-Navy Seal, he qualified as a bodyguard when she needed one. He also had computer skills at least equal to her own. And since she got in trouble at her old job with the FBI for hacking into the New York state prison system, her prowess was substantial.
She’d felt comfortable enough with him to offer him a job as her assistant. But she had to be on her toes to keep him from overstepping, as he had a tendency to think he knew best, no matter what.
Henry now stood at ease, waiting for the clerk to deliver their rental.
Squinting at every form in the pile next to the printer, Mary Sue, according to her name tag, finally pulled one out, then proceeded to bump into the corner of a file cabinet while looking for the correct fob. She turned with a timid grin to Henry. “Here you go! Your car should be in the first row. It’s a red Spark. Enjoy your stay in Portland. If you need anything, I’d be happy to help.” She sucked in a breath. “With the car, I mean.”
Henry thanked her with a quick grin, took Sam by the arm and threaded their way to the door through the crowd that had backed up behind them while Mary Sue had hunted for their papers and ogled Henry.
“You made quite an impression on the clerk,” Sam teased, throwing her suitcase into the tiny compartment in the back. She looked the car over before ducking her head out of the hatchback. “It only has two seats!”
“Think of it as a sports car,” Henry said.
“Fat chance, my imagination isn’t that good.”
“I didn’t make enough of an impression to get us a better car.” Henry tossed his duffel and carry-on on top of her luggage. It filled the entire back area.
Sam sniffed. “Well, I hope we never have to offer anyone a ride.”
“Relax. You’ll fit easier than I will.” Henry slammed the hatchback door twice before it caught. “Who’s driving?”
“You can drive while I catch up on the local news,” Sam dug her phone out of her pocket.
When they had settled, with Henry’s knees smashed against the steering wheel, Sam programmed the GPS to lead them to their hotel/apartment in the southwest downtown area. A light drizzle started as they wound their way out of the airport and Sam sighed, looking at her phone. “Damn. I only have one bar. Shouldn’t the airport area have better cell service?”
“Maybe it’s just your carrier. Try mine.” Henry tried to reach into his pocket but he found it difficult to twist enough to grab his phone. Finally, he gave up with a groan. “Hell, wait until we get to the hotel.”
They drove in silence for the next forty-five minutes until they reached the block the GPS indicated was their destination. Sam looked through the mist but saw nothing that resembled a hotel of any kind. Office buildings and apartments lined the street.
“What are we looking for?” Henry asked as they circled the block for the second time.
“It’s called Park Avenue Apartment by Stay Andrew,” Sam told him.
“What kind of a name is that?”
“I don’t know. They have strange names in Oregon, I guess.”
Henry pulled to the curb and pushed a button to roll down Sam’s window, signaling to a nearby pedestrian. The young man wore a Portland State University sweatshirt over camouflage shorts and combat boots. He didn’t seem to mind the drizzle in the least as he pointed them to a dark glass building with no sign out front in response to Henry’s question. “It’s probably in Ladd Towers, right over there.”
“Thanks…” Henry’s words were lost as Sam rolled up the window to keep the water from her suede jacket. He pulled into the space marked as a loading zone and turned to Sam. “Doesn’t look like there’s any parking. Do you want to wait while I go in to check it out?”
“No, I’ll go. You get the luggage.” Sam slid out and ran into the building.
The lobby was modern with a chest-high marble counter to the left as she entered. An attractive blonde stood behind the barrier and smiled at Sam. “Can I help you?”
“I hope so. I booked rooms, an apartment, actually, online with Stay Andrew. Are we in the right place?”
Sam stumbled over the name, hoping she got it right, but the woman behind the counter widened her smile. “Of course, you can wait right over there while I contact someone for you.”
She started for a chair across the room, then remembered Henry waiting in the car. “Is there parking?”
“I’m afraid we don’t offer any in the building, but we have a deal with the parking garage down the block. Your representative will have that information for you.”
“My friend is waiting in the car. Can you tell me where to direct him?”
The woman looked up from inspecting her nails, spotted Henry lounging against the black marble wall under the glass canopy, and plastered a bright grin on her face. “I’ll be happy to show him.”
As the recep
tionist, or whatever she was, went out to speak to Henry, Sam sighed and plunked into the chair. Let him deal with it. She wanted to get into their suite and unwind a bit before she contacted Norman Bledsoe.
Ten minutes later, a harried young man stepped off the elevator and approached Sam. Thin to the point of emaciation, he wore a white shirt with a blue tie sporting what looked like lightning strikes in yellow. His scalp showed through the muddy brown hair at the top of his head. In a few more years he would have nothing but a fringe. For now, longish wispy strands fell into his eyes and he brushed them away with a flick of his wrist. “Are you Ms. Turner?”
At Sam’s nod, he extended his hand. “So happy to meet you. I’m Jason Barnes, and I’ll be your contact during your stay. Anything you want, I’ll be happy to obtain for you.”
“I’m waiting for my assistant to park the car. He’ll meet us here . . . in the lobby?” Sam raised her voice and turned to the blonde for confirmation.
“He should be along any minute,” the receptionist told her.
“Sorry I kept you waiting. I had an . . . incident to deal with.” Jason cleared his throat and fidgeted with his tie. “I may as well tell you a little about your accommodations. You booked with us for 10 days with the possibility of extending your stay. Is that correct?”
“Yes, I’m not certain how long it will take us to conduct our business. Is that a problem?” Sam had assumed she was booking a suite in a hotel, not a private building. She should have looked further before committing. “I’m sure I can find something else if necessary.”
“No, no, there’s no problem. Our apartments are top notch. You have a full-size stove and refrigerator, two bedrooms, two baths, and a dining room/living area combination. I’m sure you’ll find everything to your liking.” Jason fiddled with the keys in his hand. “It’s just that, um, well, there’s been a little trouble on your floor.”
Sam raised her eyebrows at him, waiting for him to go on.