by Maggie Thom
“I know it’s a little over done. Or underdone. I’m not sure what you call it but it’s about as pure as you can find.” He grinned at her.
That was the grounding she needed. It settled her insides like a shot of bourbon would do for others.
“What happened?”
“Too much stress. Not enough to eat. I don’t know.”
“Really? It seemed that picture had something to do with it.”
“The sun was glaring off it. I could barely see it.” She held his gaze and prayed the morsel of truth in the statement would hold up against all that she was withholding from him. “Where’s Chance?”
“He’s fine. I’ll get him.” He gave her a long look before getting up and disappearing.
He knows.
How could she tell him what she suspected, that Dorothea’s brother might be connected to her problem? It made her want to throw up, and then she realized the nausea had been part of her life since the moment she realized she had lost an entire week.
A few seconds later, the door was pushed wide and Chance came running through, chortling and babbling as he ran. Graham was right behind him pretending to catch him. Tarin smiled as her son launched himself at her, only to scramble across the bed in a gleeful dash to get away from Graham. It was heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time. She’d been the only one in his life for so long that she felt a rare pang of jealousy. But the joy on her son’s face soon pulled her out of her angst.
“I hate to break this up but something’s come up.”
Graham swung Chance up in his arms and put him on his shoulders before turning to Guy. “Be right there.”
Tarin was on her feet and moving out the door when he grabbed her. His probing eyes were searching for more than reassurance she was okay.
“Go. Horsey.” Chance’s demand was the excuse she needed to move aside so he could pass her.
They all met in the large sitting room with leather sofas, beautiful artwork and intricate vases, curios she had nightmares about Chance grabbing. The photo that had caused her grief was gone, the shattered glass cleaned away. Her son accompanied Amanda enthusiastically into the playroom.
Her grandfather, who still gave her a shiver of excitement in realizing that connection, put his hand on her arm as she passed. He looked at her questioningly. She smiled reassuringly in a mute effort to tell him she was okay. He nodded before taking her arm and sitting beside her on the couch.
“I think we need to clarify a few things. First, to those that don’t know me, Dorothea and I have been friends a very long time. I think she stuck gum in my hair in first grade to get my attention. See, I had a horse and rode to school while she had to walk. She convinced me I needed to give her a ride every day. We’ve been good friends ever since.”
Dorothea laughed. “Oh Calib. Let’s not get started on the stories of who did what.”
He grinned. “You’re quite right. Now to introduce myself properly. I’m Charles Cooper. I own the Cooper-Lite Hotel chain. But please, my friends call me Calib. My son is James Madsen-Cooper, although he dropped the Cooper to spite me and then named his business chain, C-Lite Hotels.”
There was a quickly drawn breath. Tarin looked at Graham to find him studying her. He knew who she was. She pursed her lips and turned away. She had done the same background investigation on him. Part of a blended family, he had two natural siblings, two step-siblings and two half-siblings.
“And this is my granddaughter.”
Tarin knew she should have seen that coming but she hadn’t, and she wasn’t prepared to reveal her identity to others. All eyes were focused on her and she wanted nothing more than to act like a bug and scurry away. Since she couldn’t do that, she squared her shoulders and raised her chin. Her grandfather squeezed her hand.
“I bring that up so everyone is clear who I am. I do not believe my son is behind any of this but to be honest I know he’s capable of some underhanded things.”
It was Tarin’s turn to return the reassuring gesture. Everyone began talking at once but Tarin tuned them out as she thought back to the photograph. It couldn’t be? Could it?
She’d barely been listening when she heard them mention the wedding.
“I think that’s a great idea. We’ll do it next weekend. Just family. Then we’ll have the formal services later. That should throw a kink into our perp.”
Tarin wasn’t sure what they were talking about. Were they changing their wedding from four weeks away to next weekend?
The keening cry of a young child would grab anyone’s attention but when it was a mother’s child, she could hear the slightest peep from a mile away. So when Chance first whimpered, Tarin was on her feet and through the door. Amanda was kneeling in front of him, checking out his leg. His lip was sticking out and big, fat tears filled his eyes.
“He tripped over the dump truck and fell. He banged his knee.”
She lifted him into her arms. “I’m going to take him outside.” She needed some air and Chanced was a good reason to take a break. “What’s the most efficient way to get there? Grab a few toys, please.”
She turned to leave and found Graham standing at the door watching them. “Great idea. Come on.”
He suggested that everyone follow join them on one of the expansive verandas, as the sunshine and fresh air would do them all good. Tarin kept walking, and Graham caught up with her, leading her down the stairs, down a meandering hallway and out through a pristine kitchen the size of a great room. Penelope, the tiniest, happiest woman she’d ever met, winked at them as they passed and said she would be bringing out their refreshments shortly.
The veranda was a large, stone covered area that overlooked a pond and a man-made waterfall. Tarin strolled toward it in an effort to show Chance all the brightly colored fish when she discovered that despite his injury, he was almost asleep. Graham pulled out a chair for her, placing it in the shade of the umbrella and helped her get comfortable. Guy and Bailey joined them, sitting close by. Dorothea and Charles soon followed with their heads together, talking quietly. They were both smiling and happy. Then Dorothea looked in her direction and stopped. Her face was glazed with shock as she slowly walked toward Tarin and Chance.
“Geoffrey?”
The words were barely out of her mouth when an explosion rocked the ground, causing the rocks arranged around the pond to scatter as though an earthquake had occurred, and as chairs tumbled over, Tarin saw Dorothea clutch her chest before she stumbled and went down on rickety knees. Calib tried valiantly to hold onto her but as the windows blew out of the mansion above them and debris hailed down upon them, he was forced to let go to prevent landing atop of her. Graham instantly took his place, catching her and shielding her with his body. As events played out before her as if in slow motion, Tarin simultaneously dove for cover under the patio table, her primal instinct to protect Chance as debris rained down upon the table with such a ferocity that she was terrified it would collapse upon them.
As the dust settled and they took stock, everyone sprang into action. Guy phoned the police and Bailey rushed to Graham’s side to check on Dorothea.
“We need an ambulance,” she said as Guy repeated her words to the police dispatcher. “She’s sweaty. Pulse rapid. She’s conscious; complaining of an ache in her shoulder.” Though her words were deceptively calm, Tarin could see the panic in her eyes.
Graham knelt in front of her, his face etched with deep concern as members of the household staff and groundskeepers rushed to their side.
She was clutching Chance so tight that he felt so much a part of her that at first she realized his whimpers might be because he was hurt. She eased him back, her hands roaming over him. He cried out snuggling tight against her, hiding his face against her chest. His thumb jammed back into his mouth. He was scared but seemed fine. For that she was so grateful.
Several people were talking over one another excitedly and the tiny woman she’d passed in the kitchen let out a keening wail when she
spotted Dorothea on the ground. She rushed over and crouched beside her. Dorothea grasped her with a hand that appeared even paler and more fragile than before.
“Tarin, are you okay?” Her grandfather assisted her and Chance in climbing out from beneath the table. He cleared debris from the chair she’d vacated and helped to situate them, looking them both over for injuries.
Seemingly confident they were physically uninjured he sat in another chair, pulling it close to hers. He was watching her so intently that she wondered if she was in fact injured. She ran her palm along her face, relieved it was covered in dust but no blood. What he said next made her thankful she had been sitting.
“Do you think your dad could have done this?”
Chapter Fifty-Five
Hours later, Graham stood at the window staring out over the darkened street. The only time he’d taken his eyes from the window was to glance over his shoulder at Tarin and Chance who were sleeping on the cot in his office. Though he’d briefly considered taking them back to his place, he determined the office to be more secluded. Since they really had no idea who was behind this, he wasn’t taking chances. Geoff had found his home once before.
Bill was canvassing the neighborhood on the lookout for anyone who didn’t belong. He hadn’t really wanted to ask Bill for help for he feared that something like this might just send him mentally back to Vietnam. But he had been more than determined.
The events of the day, which had never truly left his mind, came flooding back like a movie on fast forward, disjointed scenes and thoughts pushing their way to the forefront. Dorothea had suffered a heart attack and a few abrasions but her prognosis was good, as long as she received plenty of bedrest remained relatively stress-free. Graham closed his eyes as exhaustion pulled at him and the realization that the clock was ticking; they had to figure out who was behind this—and fast. Whoever had blown up the room where they had been had meant to kill them. All of them.
If Tarin hadn’t wanted to take Chance outside—
He cut off that thought for fear of the fate that had almost awaited them. Glancing at the two of them sleeping in the corner, he was beyond grateful that nothing had happened to them. The gnawing question was how did she play into all this? Someone seemed just as eager to do away with her as with them. But why? How could she be connected to them?
He no longer believed she was behind their business disruption; it just didn’t ring true. He tamped down an inkling of doubt that threatened at the corners of his mind. With one last look at the deserted street, he turned and sat at his computer.
He was missing something. He quickly made a list of all he knew.
Crazy amount of emails.
Tarin came to work for them.
Bad wine situation.
Tarin meets woman only to be injured—her fault?
Wine hijacked.
Someone tried to abduct Chance.
Part of Dorothea’s mansion is blown up.
He added several minor occurrences.
As he was skimming the list, he realized one thing stood out loud and clear—something Tarin had said a long time ago. What if someone was trying to distract them? But from what?
The reminder he’d written to himself to go to Jaspers Menswear caught his attention. First because he still hadn’t made it there, but secondly it reminded him of Guy’s and Bailey’s wedding. Was that the target? Was Geoff reaching out from his grave to continue to make Bailey’s life hell? Was it some minion of his? Or was he still alive?
Following a hunch, he keyed in some information. He studied it for a while. It convinced him of one thing; he needed to get Guy. They had work to do.
He glanced at Tarin and Chance, who were still sound asleep. Not wanting to leave them, he knew he had no choice, not if he was going to put an end to this. He scribbled a note and taped it to the inside of the door, which he gently closed behind him.
Bill will watch over them.
He called Guy and told him his plan—they needed to get back into that house Geoff had blown up two years before.
~~~~
Tarin kept her eyes tightly closed, listening to Graham tap away at his keyboard and murmur out loud. Just listening to his voice made her want to smile. But she didn’t. Because then he’d know she was awake. Every now and then she could feel his eyes on her. She resisted the urge to open hers just to make sure because now she had but one option open to her. He would inevitably ask questions and she’d have to give him half-truths or evade them all together. She couldn’t tell him everything. At least not yet. Not that she knew everything—but she had a feeling she knew someone who did.
As soon as he was out the door, she climbed out of bed, careful not to disturb Chance, and raced over to his computer. He’d left it on but asleep, so she quickly typed in his password. Before she performed her own online search, she checked to see what he had been looking up. Graphic pictures filled the screen of an area that looked like a bomb had been dropped on it. Curious as to why he’d been looking at something so gruesome, she checked for an address. She was shocked to discover it was on Dorothea’s property.
Tucking away that information, she quickly logged onto her site to see if she’d ever gotten a response from the woman who’d agreed to meet her. There was a message.
I’m sorry. I have to vanish. He’s sick.
That was all she was able to read before the site froze up. Not knowing what else to do, she shut it down. She tried to log in again but it wouldn’t let her in. As she sat there contemplating what to do, her father kept knocking at her thoughts. He couldn’t have done that today. Could he?
Her mind spun with what that meant. As she looked for a media story about the detonation at Dorothea’s home, a headline grabbed her attention. Leading The Way convention was in town, which meant so was her father. He’d never missed one. Would trying to kill his daughter change that? She didn’t think so. Global business leaders attended, so it was an opportune venue to mingle with potential clients. Since his hotel hosted it, he had every right to be there to schmooze with the bigshots.
Stop playing defense, Tarin; start playing offense. Take charge. His words echoed in her head. She needed to see him. Confront him. She had to see for herself if he was behind any or all of this. She didn’t want to believe it... but she had to know. If he was, she had to stop him.
The softest of sounds reminded her she would need someone to watch Chance; someone she could trust. Someone she knew would lay down his life for her son. Feeling sick at having to leave him again, she knew he was safer there than with her. She had to end this deadly game now or they’d always be looking over their shoulders.
She gently kissed her son on the forehead, praying that he’d sleep until dawn. Before leaving, she opened the cupboards, looking for anything for him to eat if he awakened. A box of rice puffs, his favorite, was a big surprise.
Graham had to have bought these. But when?
And there was milk in the fridge. Not having the time to question his motives, she said a silent thank you and headed down the stairs. Convincing Bill she had to leave was not going to be an easy task.
Squaring her shoulders, she slowly unlocked the door but had barely opened it six inches before he was blocking her exit.
“I need to go, Bill. I think I can stop all this.”
“Graham said you’re to stay.”
“I know, but that was before he knew my father suffered a stroke. I need you to watch Chance. If anything happens, call me.”
He stared her down for the longest time.
“Please. This might be the last time I get to see him. Please. I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
He stepped back, letting her step into the murky street light. Impulsively, she reached up and kissed his dirty cheek. He immediately ducked his face.
“Please look after my son. Only Graham or I can take him. Okay?”
He nodded before slipping inside, letting the door close behind him. A second later, she heard the dea
dbolt sliding into place.
Thankful he hadn’t asked any questions, she sped to her car and drove the fifty minutes to the hotel.
Chapter Fifty-Six
Tarin peeked around the corner. The preconference crowd was starting to gather. Now she just had to wait until the one person she wanted to confront showed up but she knew she wouldn’t have to wait long. He wouldn’t want his adoring public to be without his presence.
It took longer than she expected. She had to pretend for ten minutes that she was doing something and not just stalking the guests of the hotel. As soon as she spotted James Madsen, she stepped behind some people and watched him. The gray at his temples surprised her; he’d always kept his hair a perfect black. She was about to step out when she noticed a young woman dressed in a hotel uniform approach him. He stepped to the side to speak with her. Though Tarin was too far away to decipher his words, his tone was neither pleasant nor conciliatory, and she noticed the woman’s face changed from shocked white to brilliant red before she walked away with clenched fists.
He hadn’t changed; he remained a bully. Why she thought he might have undergone a transformation, she didn’t know but she made her way toward him despite the revelation. She noticed his dark gray, Italian silk suit was as crisp and perfect as though he’d just had it pressed. But since it was already almost 8:00 in the morning she knew he’d already had it on for hours. At least that was one thing she always remembered about him—impeccably dressed, always.
He glanced her way a couple of times. Though there was no sign of recognition, she knew it could simply mean he was masked with his professional persona, a facade that concealed his penchant for picking out only those faces in the crowd that were likely to slingshot him to the top of one pinnacle or another. Then she remembered her hair hadn’t been blonde in many years. It had been a reminder of her mother he hadn’t been able to stomach.