by Maggie Thom
“The year I left school?”
Bobbie nodded. “Your dad was furious. He didn’t want any more kids, and he didn’t want you to have anything more to do with me because he figured you’d find out about the baby.”
Nausea burned inside her throat and acid clutched her stomach as it rolled and churned. She pressed one hand against her belly while she clapped the other one over her mouth.
“And you just went along?”
“I never knew until my sister Tammy died. That’s when I got suspicious. I was told that Tammy was Kim’s mom. I didn’t know. She was so wild then. When Tammy died, I stepped up and said that I’d raise Kim. I was already more of a mother to her than Tammy was. After I got Kim, Mom started making demands, telling me how to do things. Letting some things slip. She finally told me everything. Tammy wasn’t Kim’s Mom, she was. And your—father who had been paying her for years to keep her mouth shut and to raise his child that he’s never seen.”
“And you couldn’t tell me?”
Her sobs were so gut-wrenching it was hard to understand her. “Mom got cancer. I had to look after her. That’s when I learned the truth about Kim. I didn’t even know where you were. And how could I have told you anyway after all that time? And I didn’t tell you about your dad and my mom because I got to go to a fancy school and be with my best friend. It felt like a secret I could keep. I didn’t think it was hurting anyone. It’s not like either of our parents really wanted us.”
“And that theft of the school’s finances that I got blamed for?”
“It was me. I had to. I’d been told if I didn’t, I’d have to leave school and my family would be financially ruined. I didn’t know it was to frame you. I swear. I thought your dad was in dire financial straits, so I thought I was doing both of us a favor. I tried to tell the principal it was me but she didn’t believe me.”
“But Kim—the paperwork?” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she knew her dad had taken care of it. He had made it look like Tammy had been her mom.
I have a half-sister.
“The money. The houses. My dad was paying you.”
“Yes. I made a deal with the devil when I was sixteen. And he had made one with my mom long before that. When Kim came along, he agreed to pay child support. And he was very generous with it; however, my mother is not good with money—or men for that matter. Anyway, I took over the finances. And because I wouldn’t let her buy her latest boyfriend a car, she told your dad about you. I’m sorry. I swear I didn’t.”
“But he asked you to.” Feeling light-headed she turned away, unable to look at her friend anymore. Bobbie’s body shook with her guilt and anguish, and several people openly stared at them. Tarin was so numb that she wondered if she could even feel any more, especially when it came to her father. Bobbie reached out in an attempt to hug her but she couldn’t take any more. Shaking her head, she stepped back. Bobbie’s face crumpled as she fought to hold back the tears. Her misery was like a living, breathing thing but Tarin couldn’t go near it; couldn’t believe the one person in the world she thought she could trust had lied to her... for a very long time. She wanted to walk away but she didn’t think her legs would carry her. And she couldn’t leave Bobbie like this, even if she did bring it on herself.
As she scanned the crowd around them, she spotted a man wearing dark clothes, sunglasses and a baseball cap pushing his way impatiently through the throng. Rude behavior was nothing new at Union Station, but when he looked in her direction she got an eerie feeling he was headed for her.
“Did you bring company?”
“What?” Her friend sniffled, blowing into tissues she pulled from her pocket.
“Who did you bring with you?”
“No one. I swear. I came by myself.” Her head whipped around behind her. “Run. I don’t know who that guy is but I’ve seen him before. Get out of here.”
Tarin didn’t question her. Even with Bobbie’s betrayal, she could see the fear in her eyes and knew she was being straight with her. Spinning on her heels, she hurried into the crowd headed in the opposite direction. It wasn’t easy to move against the flow of traffic but she knew it was her only choice, especially if that man was really after her. The doors to one of the subway’s opened and she sprinted for all she was worth, now flowing with a movement that sandwiched her, pulling her forward. Commuters pushed and shoved their way onto the train. She was about to step aboard when she was grabbed from the side and jerked out of the swarm. Reflexively, she brought her elbow up and back. A quick glance showed her it was an older gentleman holding his jaw and calling her names that she didn’t even think a man of his age would know.
“Sorry,” spilled from her lips as she was yanked away from the angry passenger.
Stumbling, she was in danger of falling despite her assailant’s firm hold on her.
She struggled with every ounce of energy she had left, but no one paid any attention as she was half-dragged, half-pulled through the crowd.
Since the assailant was moving too fast, she did the next best thing. She kicked out with her foot and shoved, and at the same time she reached out with her free hand and snagged the arm of a brawny man striding past her in the opposite direction. Without even glancing her way, he shook her off like she was nothing more than a pesky flea. As he thrust her aside, she came solidly to her feet and slung her arm around a nearby railing. Without wasting another second, she lashed out and kicked her assailant. Hard.
“Damn you,” he grunted.
The next thing she knew someone was swinging a fist at the guy. The two men were scuffling back and forth until the other man realized he was losing and disappeared into the crowd. She turned to run only to find herself face to face with Bailey.
“Come with me.”
She hesitated only the briefest of seconds before following a fast-moving Bailey through the crowds. Once they got on the subway to Eglington Avenue which would drop them off near the office, Tarin turned to her. “What’s going on?”
“I think that’s my question.”
“Why are you following me? Because there is no way I’m going to believe that was a chance occurrence. Was that Guy?”
Bailey stared at her hard before nodding. Well now at least she knew who her knight in shining armor was. Sitting back, she closed her eyes but the gentle swaying of the car was making her sick—or maybe it was the realization of what was happening to her settling in. She clasped her hands in her lap trying to still their shaking. A warm hand clasped them.
“It’s okay. Just take some deep, slow breaths. That’s it. A few more. Okay, I can see some color coming back to your cheeks.”
Tarin managed a smile of gratitude. “Thank you.”
“So who wants to kidnap you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who wants to take your son?”
“How—?” She should have known Graham wouldn’t keep it to himself. “I don’t know.’”
“I think whoever grabbed you had a reason.”
“Look, my life is boring. Nothing interesting has ever happened.”
“So you don’t think your husband might have taken offense to you taking off with his son?”
Heat flooded her cheeks but she refused to look away. “It’s not—Stephen is many things but I don’t believe he’s behind this.”
“What about your father, Mr. Madsen, owner of C-Lite Hotels?”
“Is there anything you don’t know about me?”
“That’s it. That’s all I’ve been filled in on so far. Is there more we should know?”
“You may have had the pristine life, growing up on a winery—”
Bailey snorted and then laughed. “My life was anything but.”
“I know it’s pathetic to complain about not having a great childhood when your father had nearly as much money as Bill Gates. But let me tell you, I haven’t spoken to my father in—”
“Three years.”
Tarin’s mouth dropped open.
“And you got fired for—no, you quit for some reason.”
“Christ. You guys don’t leave any stone unturned do you?”
“Hey, I’m not the private investigator, that’s Guy and Graham.”
At the mention of Graham, she was glad she was seated as all her remaining energy drained out of her. Chance. I left him with Graham.
“So now what?”
“Now we go to the office and figure out what’s going on.”
Though she wanted nothing more than to flee, the option was no longer open to her or she’d never see her son again. A fleeting thought that maybe he’d be better without her crossed her mind. The gut-wrenching fear and anguish that shot through her system convinced her she couldn’t live without him.
“Hey. If you want my honest opinion, I don’t think you’re the villain here. I’ve done pretty well on my gut instincts and they’re telling me you’re not the guilty party.”
Tarin didn’t respond but stared out the window. The blur was exactly how she was feeling inside. Nothing made sense, nothing had any definition and there didn’t seem to be any end to this ride.
Chapter Fifty-One
“She’s talking to someone about selling the winery. You need to stop that.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Watch her. Better yet—” It was time, way past time to end this. “Do away with her.”
“And how would you like me to do that? Poison? Shooting? Stabbing? Torture? A bomb?”
“All sound enticing but I want to send a clear message. I want her to know the enemy she faces.” He issued his orders with calm and cool resolve. Soon everything would be perfect. Dorothea would know who was trying to get her attention.
~~~~
“What the hell were you thinking?” It was the last thing Graham had intended to say, so he was nearly as surprised as she was when he did.
“I’m trying to figure things out.”
“And you couldn’t tell me?”
“Right,” she snorted before brushing her hand lightly over her son’s sleeping head. “I’m not behind this crap that’s happening to Knights Associates.” Tarin marched to his desk and sat at his computer.
Bailey had brought her up a few minutes prior and then disappeared. Now he wished she hadn’t. He wanted to shake Tarin until she understood the gravity of her situation. His hands curled into fists by his side. When he realized that he was so tense he was almost vibrating, he stepped back, his eyes glued to her every movement. Figuring it would take her a while to break into his laptop, he glanced out the window at the darkened, deserted street.
“The truth? I believe you. I’m just not sure if that makes me an idiot,” he said in his best Elmer Fudd voice, “or someone in—” Realizing what he’d been about to say, he clamped his mouth shut.
“Come here.”
He strolled to his desk, intending to enter his password but he found that not only had she already hacked into it but she’d accessed the company’s emails. His jaw dropped as he wondered if he’d spoken too soon.
She was scrolling through his messages, pointing out source code as she went. Her fingers were nimble and her observations rapid-fire, obviously taking for granted that he was with her. Leaning in closer, he tried to follow the code.
“I don’t see what you’re seeing.”
She turned to speak to him, only to draw in a quick breath. His gaze caught hers before he quickly looked away. Way too dangerous to go there, especially when he still had no idea if he could trust her. The next time he looked at the monitor, he realized she had scrolled back to the beginning and had started her explanations again, more slowly.
“This, this and this one are all sent from the same IP address.”
Graham gave her his get-real expression. The smirk she wasn’t doing very well at hiding meant she was deliberately talking to him slowly as though he was simple. The last vestiges of tension left his body. Later, he’d figure out where they stood; for now they needed to identify who was deliberately scamming Knights Associates and more importantly, who wanted Tarin dead or alive.
She opened other emails he’d forwarded to her, explaining what she’d discovered and what she suspected. Patterns emerged; consistency in the source, the format, the similar design of some websites. He was about to say something when he realized she was staring straight ahead but she wasn’t focused on what was in front of her. She was contemplating something.
She clicked on a dozen of the other twenty she had opened and that’s when he understood things had progressed beyond similarities. Four had identical sites containing duplicate information. The names were almost the same as well:
John Templar
Don Templor
Sean Templur
Juan Templer
It didn’t make any sense. Their culprit was getting lazy. Why?
“Graham.”
He was standing so close behind her peering into the screen that when she turned, her nose came almost to rest against his chest. He drew in a deep breath, his body instantly responding to the sweet floral scent of her hair. Thankfully she was doing better at controlling her urges than he was at controlling his.
“These four sites are almost identical. Why would someone go to the trouble of developing fictitious sites without attempting to hide the fact that they’re fake? Look at the names. They’re ridiculous.” She quickly checked another business. “Same name, different extensions. It’s so obvious.”
His hand landed on hers, taking over the mouse as she casually slid hers out from under his. He was already clicking through multiple screens, aware of her every movement yet he couldn’t take his eyes off the monitor. The answer was there. It had to be.
“This is insane. Not only are these obvious but I just discovered the IP address of this jerk. So is this a trap?”
Tarin turned around. “It could be. What could they gain by sending us on cat and mouse games?”
“When we started working for the feds, they made us jump through hoops to analyze how we handled information, what we could figure out and how good we were. It took us about four weeks to figure it all out. In fact, we got so good at it that we could anticipate what they were going to do. It drove them nuts, but they hired us. So if this is someone’s ploy to hire us, why so much? Why make it almost impossible for us to keep up?”
“Are they trying to keep you away from something else?”
He scowled. That question had come up before and yes he was certain she was right, but he still didn’t know who or why. The fact that Oliver’s computer was a bust still frustrated him, and now the man had taken a long overdue holiday. It could be a while before he got some answers.
“There’s a code I need to ask you about.” She pulled up the ones from Caspian Winery. “What does this mean—the number and letters?”
“I’m assuming it’s their billing numbering system.”
“Can you find out?”
“Sure. I’ll ask Dorothea.”
“This is no life for Chance. It’s got to be someone good on a computer. My dad’s good on one. After all, he taught Bobbie. God, this has to end,” she muttered to herself.
“What?” His cell phone rang.
“Graham. I managed to tackle him but he got away. However, I managed to pilfer a business card from his pocket. C-Lite Hotels.”
Tarin’s dad.
“I should have known he’d be behind this,” Tarin’s shoulders slouched as she looked at him. She appeared defeated.
Graham wandered into the outer office; he didn’t want her overhearing any more of the conversation than she had.
“Man, can this get any crazier?”
“Hang on; Bailey’s calling me.”
Graham stared into space, his mind grasping for answers. A moment later Guy returned.
“Someone’s trying to sandbag our wedding. We hadn’t received RSVP’s from a lot of the guests. Bailey’s been on the phone constantly over whether invites had been sent. Well, it tur
ns out a mail sorter stored a bunch of them in his garage. It’s a total fluke they were found. He’d reported a burglary two nights ago and when the police investigated, they found our invites. He confessed to being paid to steal them. He says he doesn’t know who hired him—cash under the table—the money was good and he thought it harmless.”
“This is crazy.”
“I’ll pick up Bailey and we’ll be in. Anything new on your end?”
“No. But we may need the big guns. We’re in way over our head. Since Tarin has arrived, nothing has gone right.”
“‘I understand. See you soon.”
He returned to his office to be met by Tarin’s dark and disturbed expression.
“So I’m guilty again.” Tarin climbed to her feet, walked over to her son and picked him up. He snuggled in close.
As soon as he realized what she was doing, he stepped in her path to stop her. “Look, if you heard what I said—”
“Do you mind?” She tried to sidestep him but he mimicked her movements, as though they were dancing a waltz without touching.
“Get out of my way.”
“No. Let me explain.”
“Why? It’s true. Things have gone to crap since I arrived. They aren’t going to get any better until I get answers.”
“Give Chance to me, he’s heavy.” He plucked her son from her arms before she could protest. Then he strode across the room and put him down. When he turned back, he was shocked to discover she’d left. He raced to the outer door just as the sound of her shoes tapping on the stairs faded and she disappeared from view. Letting her go was not an option but he couldn’t leave her son alone.
What the hell?
Fifteen minutes later when Guy and Bailey arrived, he had done so many laps of the office, pacing back and forth. He was ready to punch walls.
“She’s gone,” he said as soon as they entered.
“Where?”
“No idea. She raced out of here and by the time I could get Bill up here to babysit, she was long gone.”
“So let’s look at what we do know. The wedding, the winery and our business are all being targeted. Unfortunately, we all have a common enemy—if he is still alive. The question is where Tarin fit into all of this?” Guy sat at Graham’s desk and started tapping away at keys. “Have you looked at this?”