by Anna Durand
Evan came to me and held me against his side. I tried to figure out his mood, but he'd retreated behind a stony facade.
"Why did you do it?" I asked Tulloch. "What was the point of making Evan write code for you?"
Tulloch glared at me for a moment, then seemed to reach a decision. He lifted his chin as much as he could with Gavin's foot on his chest. "I proved I'm smarter than the great Evan MacTaggart. Took him down a few pegs, I did. The code was a lark. I wanted to see if he would do what I said, and the dimwit did. Everyone knows he's unfit for that sort of work. Watching him squirm was the best part."
"What about the four hundred thousand pounds?" I asked. "I assume you were the one behind that attempt to take over Evan's company, but I doubt you have fifty pounds, much less four hundred thousand."
"I wanted to see how greedy he is." Tulloch tried to move his arm but winced, most likely from the pain of his stab wound. "The blackmail was strictly to humiliate him. I was going to leak it to the media that he had written code giving himself a back door to his clients' security systems. His business would've been finished."
We each questioned him a bit more, but Tulloch refused to say anything else until he got a lawyer. We handed Tulloch and his cohorts over to the police when they arrived. Logan had held Stamp in the driveway to guard the only viable exit available to the villains. The constables who answered the alarm call seemed to know Logan and respect him, so they accepted his version of events. We had all agreed to leave out any mention of the code Evan had written and the blackmail. What Tulloch had done today, not to mention his histrionics in Evan's office, was enough to put him away for a good long time. Each of us had to go to the station in the morning to give our statements, but the constables decided we'd earned a night's rest first.
All of us watched the three blackmailers get handcuffed and stuffed into the backseat of one police car.
Logan clapped a hand on Evan's shoulder. "Don't worry. The constables let me have a private word with Tulloch in the back of the police car. He won't be mentioning anything about the programs you wrote for him."
Though he spoke the words casually, his voice had a lethal undercurrent.
I didn't doubt for one minute Tulloch would fear getting on Logan's bad side.
"But he will be confessing," Logan said, "to everything else, including threatening your mother's life and getting his cohort to almost run her over. The embezzlement too."
Who was this man? Solving the mystery of Evan's cousin would have to wait for another day.
Night had fallen over the landscape by the time we returned to our respective homes—or in the case of Evan and me, back to our guest room in Iain and Rae's home. We undressed and got into bed without saying a word, too exhausted for anything more taxing than a quick good-night kiss before we fell asleep in each other's arms.
I realized something was wrong the second I woke up in the morning.
Before I'd even opened my eyes, I sensed a lack of bodily warmth pressed against my back and an emptiness in the room. A chill swept over my skin. I sat up and blinked to clear my vision. What I saw did not change no matter how many times I blinked. I was alone in the room, and Evan's things were gone.
A piece of paper lay on the bedside table, folded in half with my name written on it in Evan's handwriting.
I picked up the paper, my eyes stinging as I unfolded the sheet. Somehow, I knew what I would learn from his note before I read it. I felt the truth. Knowing him the way I did, I'd been worried he might do something reckless like going after Tulloch alone, but I hadn't anticipated this.
"Mo chridhe," the note began, "I have to leave you. I need to sort things, and I can't do that with you here making me forget about all the mistakes I've made and the way I've pushed you into a relationship you never wanted. You could have died yesterday, and it would have been my fault. Please forgive me. Mo ghaol ort, Evan."
I crumpled the paper in my hand. Those strange phrases must've been Gaelic. Was it a code? He knew I didn't understand the language. Why begin and end his dumping-Keely note with something that made no sense to me?
Tears pricked at my eyes. I wiped them away with the heel of my hand, but my nose didn't get the message that I did not want to cry. I sniffled and crushed the paper harder. The tears ignored my command, rolling down my cheeks. I wrapped my arms around myself and rocked in place, helpless to stem the salty tide. My head hurt, my heart hurt, my soul hurt. How could he do this to me? Make me love him and then leave me.
I hurled the crumpled paper across the room.
Once the tears subsided, I went into the bathroom and washed my face before pulling on some clothes.
He'd left me in his cousin's home. I didn't belong here without Evan.
I caught sight of the crumpled paper on the floor.
My eyes stung again, but I banished the tears by sheer force of will. No more crying. So he'd abandoned me. I would not crumble into a pathetic mess on the floor. Men had tossed me away before, and I had survived. This was no different.
Except I loved Evan so much more than I'd loved the others.
No, I would not dwell on it. Go home, get on with my life, pretend this had never happened. That was the only way to get through it. I packed up my bags and dragged them into the hall. The crushed paper caught my eye again, and I couldn't stop myself from picking it up, smoothing it out, and tucking it into my purse.
I found Rae and Iain in the kitchen. Smiling and laughing, they seemed to be having a good time cooking up a breakfast feast.
Two people in love. I remembered how that felt.
Rae noticed me, and her smile faltered. "Keely, what's wrong?"
"Evan left. Thank you for your hospitality, but I think it's best if I go home right away."
"No," Iain said, "you shouldn't go anywhere when you're upset. Have a seat. You'll feel better after a good breakfast."
Rae gave her husband an annoyed look. "Bangers and mash won't fix a broken heart."
"Whose heart is broken? She said Evan left." He gave me a questioning look. "How long will he be gone?"
His wife elbowed him in the gut. "Evan didn't go to the store. He's gone for good. Can't you see that on her face?"
I tried not to cry, tried so hard, but the damn tears had a mind of their own. I shielded my face with one hand so at least they might not see me bawling. I didn't sob, though. The tears streamed down my face in silence.
Rae pulled me into a hug. "I'm so sorry, honey. Men can be such idiots."
"He'll change his mind," Iain said. "Lachlan and Erica broke up for two months before they got married. Evan will come around eventually."
"Iain, you are not helping," Rae said.
"Doesn't it help for her to know breaking up isn't the end?"
"Not right now. She's hurting too much."
I pulled away from Rae. "I need to go home. Please, I just need to go home."
"Take the jet," Iain said. "Lachlan, Rory, and I share it. You'll be home in no time."
Rae squeezed my arm. "Have something to eat first. I'll whip up some French toast for you. It's the best comfort food."
I let Rae guide me to the island and perched my butt on a stool. The French toast turned out to be delicious, but nothing short of a drinking binge would've been enough to soothe me. Since I didn't want to get drunk, I had no choice but to push through the pain the best I could.
Half an hour later, I stood at the front door with my purse over my shoulder. Iain had already carried my bags out to the car and insisted on driving me to the airport. The private jet he shared with his cousins waited for me there.
Rae kissed Iain on the cheek. "Don't say anything to upset her."
"I won't, gràidh."
His use of a Gaelic endearment made me think of Evan's note. I pulled it out of my purse and held it up so Iain could see. I pointed at the words mo chridhe. "Do you know what this means?"
"Yes, it means my heart."
&nb
sp; "What about this?" I pointed at the phrase mo ghaol ort.
"That means I love you." He smirked. "I don't love you, the man who wrote that does."
"I get the picture. Thanks for the translation."
All the way to the airport and on the plane ride home, I wondered why Evan said he loved me in the note he used to break up with me.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Keely
I propped my feet on the desk in my office, reached down to unlock my chair, and leaned it back as far as it would go without me tumbling over backward. My arms hung off the sides. My gaze was aimed at the ceiling, but I couldn't focus on it. Six weeks had gone by since Evan dumped me with a handwritten note. I hadn't seen or heard from him since, though I'd called him often—a dozen times a day at first, then dwindling down and down until I gave up. My voicemails, texts, and emails went unanswered. Iain and Rae called, Rory and Emery called, and even Evan's mother called me. Aileen wouldn't tell me where Evan was or what he was doing because he'd sworn her to secrecy, though she mentioned he'd needed time to adjust to the changes in his life.
Why did I care where he was? He'd moved on. For all I knew, he had another woman warming his bed these days. Maybe several women.
No, I couldn't believe that. His misplaced guilt and too many revelations about his family had knocked him off balance, and he needed time to get his bearings again.
Someone knocked on the door to my office.
I jumped and almost fell out of my chair. Scrambling to get upright again, I thumped my feet down on the floor. "Come in."
Serena waltzed inside and shut the door. "You look awful."
"Did you stop by to insult me or is there a reason for this visit?"
"You've been grumpy for weeks. Getting dumped does not agree with you."
"My employees haven't complained."
"Like they would tell their boss she's being annoying. Besides, you're nice to them and only get snippy with the people who love you." She pointed a finger at herself. "That would be me, your parents, and your brothers."
"I'm fine." I held up a hand, palm out. "I swear to control my grumpiness from now on."
Not sure how I'd do that. With a choice between being grumpy or weeping uncontrollably, I'd chosen the option least likely to make my eyes red and puffy. What good did it do to feel heartbroken? I'd gone through this enough times to make me an expert on repressing my feelings and pushing through it all.
"The way he left doesn't make sense," I said, more to myself than to Serena. "He's not a coward. Why wouldn't he say goodbye in person? He disappeared."
"What makes sense to a man usually doesn't make sense to a woman. It's not like you haven't heard from him at all."
"Yes, it's exactly like that. No contact."
"That's not true."
I rolled my eyes. "Sending me a car is not contact. It's more like a payoff for giving him great sex."
"Evan also gave you a house, one you refuse to set foot in."
"Another payoff, or maybe a guilt trip." I remembered the night we'd spent in that house and how much closer we'd gotten because of it. How could I walk into that house ever again? Driving past it made me queasy. Maybe I'd sell it.
But the idea of that made me queasy too.
"He loves you," Serena said. "We all know that."
I didn't want to talk about this anymore, but Serena wouldn't give up unless I changed the subject. "I have work to do."
"Oh no, you're coming with me," Serena announced. "I talked to Vic, and he agrees that you need to take the rest of the afternoon off. We're having a high-calorie, carb-loaded, totally decadent meal. Right now."
"Did I say you could have the afternoon off?"
"Technically, I work for your father. But not anymore."
I snapped upright, the momentum pushing my chair backward. "What? Since when?"
"Since your parents—" She waved a hand. "Never mind. They want to tell you themselves."
"What will you do? You're unemployed."
Her smile was cryptic and a touch mischievous. "I've got a new job. It starts in a week, and no, I will not tell you about it yet. Get off your butt and let me kidnap you."
"I don't need an afternoon off. Work keeps me going."
"No way." She seized my wrist and pulled, leaning back into the pull for better leverage. "Get off your stubborn ass this instant."
I gave in and had lunch with her. Serena offered to trash talk men with me, but I declined. Bashing Evan wouldn't make me feel better and neither would bashing any of my other exes. After lunch, she insisted we go to a day spa for facials and a massage. The experience failed to relax me.
On the drive home, I passed the newest building site in Carrefour. The construction company had put up a sign advertising it was their project, but nothing indicated what the building would house. They seemed to be whipping it together in record time. We didn't get a lot of new construction in this town, so I'd asked around to see if anyone knew what the structure would be. Nobody had a clue. Apparently, the construction company had signed a nondisclosure agreement that barred them from discussing the project.
Maybe it was a government building. Those guys loved secrets.
Early in the evening, I arrived home and walked into the living room but nearly tripped over my own shoes in an attempt to halt abruptly. My purse fell out of my grip and whumped onto the floor.
My parents stopped making out and aimed cheery smiles at me.
"Keely, there you are," my mom said. "We were wondering when you'd get home. Have fun with Serena?"
"What are you two doing?"
Dad waggled his eyebrows. "What does it look like we're doing?"
"Something you're way too old for."
They both laughed.
I stood there dumbfounded. My parents had been divorced for a long time. Never had they mentioned reconciling, so I had to assume this was a casual thing. My parents having a casual affair? That just wasn't right.
"We are not too old," Mom said. "And you are not too old for Evan. He's such a sweet boy."
"Calling him a boy doesn't convince me I'm not too old for him." I rubbed my temples, but the headache threatening to start ignored my command to stop that shit. "This isn't about me and Evan. I'm trying to wrap my head around whatever you two are doing."
Dad looked at Mom. "It's time to tell her."
I glanced from one parent to the other. "Tell me what?"
Mom smiled. "We're engaged."
"To do what?"
"Get married, of course."
I opened my mouth but needed several seconds before I could speak. "When did this happen?"
Dad brushed hair away from Mom's face just like Evan used to do with me. My throat hurt watching it.
"It started right after you went back to Scotland with Evan," Dad said. "Your mom and I spent a lot of time together, and things sort of happened. We realized there's never been anyone else for either of us. We belong together, so I'm moving to Seattle to be with your mother." He winked at Mom. "And it's been fun doing the dating thing again."
Mom giggled. She giggled, like a teenage girl.
"Oh yes, it's been lots of fun," she said. "I sneak into your dad's room after you go to bed so we can make love."
Her statement left me slack-jawed and speechless.
"Keely," Mom said, "you are a mature woman who shouldn't be shocked to find out her parents enjoy sex. We may be senior citizens, but we're not dead."
I was acting stupid. Maybe it wasn't their renewed relationship that bothered me as much as it was my failed relationship with Evan. He'd meant more to me than anyone.
And I had no clue what happened to us.
My parents had divorced, believing their marriage couldn't work anymore. Seventeen years later, here they were in love again and starting over in their relationship. If they could come back from a failure, maybe Evan and I could too.
If he would ever answe
r his damn phone.
There was an alternative way of finding him.
"What are you thinking?" Mom asked. "You've got that squinty look on your face that means you're chewing on a problem."
Yes, it was hard to fool people who'd known you since birth.
"I was thinking about Evan," I admitted. "I'm suddenly wondering if I made a mistake by letting him dodge me all this time. Not even sure whether he really dumped me."
"You seemed sure before tonight," Mom said. "What changed your mind?"
"Weirdly, it was you guys. Seeing my parents get back together after being divorced for so long makes me wonder."
"Go find him, Keely. You'll never know the answers unless you dig them up yourself."
Dad scoffed. "She's been calling him fifty times a day for over a month. If the guy doesn't want to be found, she can't hunt him down."
"Sure I can." Did I want to? Was this a wise decision? Probably not, but Mom was right. I needed answers, and I'd waited long enough for him to come crawling back and offer up the solution to the mystery. "I have to go make a few calls. Good night."
I rushed upstairs to my bedroom, intending to call Tamsen—until I realized it was seven hours later there and too early for her to be at the office. I changed into my nightie and tried to sleep but succeeded only in tossing and turning for nearly four hours before I gave up and dialed Tamsen's office number.
"Evanescent Security Technologies. Tamsen Spurling speaking. How may I help you?"
"That's quite a mouthful to say every time you answer the phone. Oh, this is Keely O'Shea."
"I know. My telephone tells me." She paused. "That is a right awful litany to repeat with every phone call. But you didn't ring me to suggest a shorter greeting. What can I do for you, Miss O'Shea?"
"Call me Keely. I'm looking for Evan."
"Afraid he's not here."
"I've been calling him for weeks, but he doesn't pick up and never calls me back. Where is he?"
She harrumphed. "I wish I had a bloody clue. He left weeks ago saying he'd be spending a good deal of time out of the country. He comes back occasionally and gave me permission to handle matters in his absence."
"Absence? How long is he planning to be gone?"