Harder Than Diamond

by Jacey Ward

  What the hell time is it?

  She hadn’t bothered to look at her phone but it was clearly the middle of the night. She’d gone to bed around eleven and her internal clock dictated that she’d been asleep for a couple hours.

  Quietly, Shay slipped down the hall, toward the staff stairs. She didn’t need to be told to be discreet. Her father had been emphatic about keeping her out of his business affairs, even more so after her mother had disappeared ten years ago without a word to anyone.

  Overnight, Geoff Collingwood seemed to have gone from a doting, fun-loving father to a secretive oligarch, someone Shay didn’t even recognize.

  Why the hell did I ever come back here? I thought I would be helping him, but it’s only pushing us farther apart, she thought, sighing heavily as she made her way down the stairs without making a sound.

  It seemed that Geoff’s secretiveness had rubbed off on his daughter and she had learned his ways of stealth since returning to the mansion, three years earlier.

  Through the winding halls of the estate, Shay found her way to the closed doors of the study and paused, wondering what she was doing there.

  She had long ago learned to accept that whatever her father was up to had no bearing on her life.

  Or at least that was what she told herself.

  Again, her eyes scanned the dark halls for signs of security, but she saw no one in the vicinity. Her pulse was roaring in her ears and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

  This is all so damn odd! Why do I care if he’s meeting with someone? And why the hell can’t I get my heartbeat to slow down?

  In spite of her uneasiness, Shay carefully pressed her ear to the thick wood of the den doors, trying to catch a word. The effort was useless though. The room was specially designed to keep out interlopers.

  In fact, every room in the mansion was soundproofed and firewalled in case someone attempted to hack into the smart home.

  Why is he like this? Shay wondered, not for the first time and she sank back against the wall to contemplate her next move.

  She couldn’t say why the late-night visitor had had such a visceral effect on her, and now she also couldn’t return to her room without laying eyes upon whoever it was.

  Then her skin prickled like someone was standing behind her but when she turned to look, she saw no one. But the feeling alone was enough to get her moving. Somehow, she knew someone was coming. Just because she hadn’t been caught yet, didn’t mean she wasn’t about to be.

  She stole back through the main floor and stopped in the kitchen, her eyes peeled toward the front door. It wasn’t a straight shot view, but it was the most inconspicuous place she could be caught if she was going to be seen by anyone.

  Go back to bed, the voice of reason sighed in her ear. There’s nothing to see here.

  Maybe the little whisper was right.

  Who was she kidding? Of course it was right, but it was also true that sleep, at least for her, often held nothing but uncertainty and danger.

  At least when she was awake, Shay had more control over her actions.

  Thinking back, the brunette tried to remember when the sleepwalking had started. Surely it hadn’t been a thing in her childhood—or if it had been, her parents had done a stellar job of hiding it.

  But it’s not just sleepwalking when you’ve got my abilities—it’s a disaster waiting to happen.

  In her youth, she’d been enamored with paranormal stories. She’d always wondered how the hero’s parents had managed to keep the kid’s superpowers hidden. But as an adult, Shay knew things got even more dangerous.

  She turned toward the stove and put on the kettle, forsaking the idea of coffee. Almost instantly, Tina appeared in the kitchen.

  “Oh! You need something, Miss Shay?”

  “Nothing I can’t get myself, Tina,” Shay replied, stifling a sigh of irritation. She knew it was the housekeeper’s job to attend to them but Shay loathed feeling like a spoiled rich kid. She hadn’t been raised that way, even though there had always been money.

  Dad has changed so much since Mom left.

  “Oh no, I can do it. Would you like me to bring it to your room? What kind of tea would you like? Are you having sugar? How hot would you like it?”

  The questions seemed to flow endlessly, and all she wanted to do was shout, “No! I want to do this myself, goddammit!” But she knew that she would sound like a spoiled toddler if she voiced the thought.

  This is exactly the kind of lifestyle I hate. The lack of privacy and the presumptuous attitude of people who hire wait staff for their own homes is just not for me. Give me a quiet cabin in the woods any day.

  But she forced a smile on her face.

  “Seriously, Tina, go back to bed. I’ve got this. You don’t need to wait on me hand and foot.”

  Tina stared at her blankly as if Shay had spoken in a foreign language.

  “But…that’s my job, Miss Shay.”

  There was no point in arguing with Tina and so Shay let the middle-aged woman take over the tea preparation.

  “What kind of tea?” Tina asked, whipping about to find a mug and slamming the cupboard door shut as she banged the cup on the counter. Shay gritted her teeth.

  So much for being stealthy.

  “Chamomile, please.”

  “Sugar?”

  “I better not,” Shay said. “I’ll never get back to…”

  She trailed off as she heard a door open in the distance and her head whipped toward the hallway.

  “Miss Shay?”

  “Shh!” Shay hissed before she could stop herself. But Tina’s feelings were the least of her concerns in that moment.

  She craned her neck to peer around the side of the wall but to her shock, Tina raced around the counter to block her path.

  “So, no sugar?” The housekeeper asked. Shay gaped at her and moved her head around.

  “No, thanks,” she muttered, rising from her spot at the kitchen island. But by the time she manoeuvred herself into the hallway, whoever it was that had come was gone out the front door and Shay was left staring at her father’s back.

  As if he heard her standing there, Geoff turned and scowled deeply when his eyes rested on her.

  “What are you doing awake?” he demanded. “It’s almost two o’clock in the morning.”

  “Tina’s making me some tea,” she replied quickly, her brow furrowing as she eyed Tina skeptically, but the older woman had turned her back and busied herself at the stove.

  Did she purposely block my view? It sure seemed that way.

  Geoff strode toward them, his face still twisted in discontent.

  “Take it in your room,” he instructed. “It’s late for you to be up.”

  “Who was that, Dad?” she asked bluntly, unfazed by his order. Geoff’s cheeks colored red in anger. He wasn’t accustomed to being questioned by his daughter.

  “How many times do I have to tell you that my business is not yours?”

  Shay swallowed a biting reply and turned her head away but she couldn’t leave it alone for some reason she didn’t comprehend.

  “I didn’t recognize the car,” she muttered. Then her mouth fell open as her father slid onto a stool, stunning her. She couldn’t remember the last time she and her father had sat down in the same room.

  “Aren’t you getting bored staying here, Shay?” he asked bluntly. “Don’t you want to get back to your independent ways?”

  The question filled her with hurt and Shay was sure it showed all over her face.

  “A-are you asking me to leave, Dad?” she asked, her hazel eyes widening.

  “Of course not,” he snapped impatiently. “I’m just thinking that any college graduate wouldn’t want to live at home with her father. If it’s a question of money, you know I’ll help you secure an apartment and your job—”

  She held up a hand, stopping him in midsentence.

  “I only came back here because you were a mess after Mom…after Mom,” she faltered
. “If you don’t want me here…”

  “Don’t be melodramatic, Shay. I’m just saying that there’s really no good reason for you to be putting your life on hold. I’ll have Theo help you find a place.”

  He rose then, as if the conversation was over and Shay could do nothing but gape at him in disbelief.

  Did he just kick me out? Is that what’s happening here?

  Geoff had already removed himself from the kitchen, leaving his daughter and housekeeper under a blanket of tense silence until Tina placed a steaming cup of tea before her. The smell made Shay’s stomach churn.

  “Your father is a good man,” Tina volunteered, sympathy coloring her blue eyes. “He only does what he thinks is best for you.”

  Shay’s mouth tightened.

  “Maybe once that was true,” she conceded. “But I don’t know who he is anymore.”

  “He’s still the same man he always was,” Tina assured her but the words did little to convince Shay.

  “Thanks for the tea,” Shay said quietly, rising from her spot and taking the mug in her hands. “Maybe I will have this in my room after all.”

  Tina didn’t respond but Shay didn’t miss the look of pity on her face.

  Does she know what shady shit Dad is involved in? Is she trying to protect me from it or is she part of it too?

  She loathed that she was consumed with paranoia now. She longed for the life she’d had as a kid, traveling the world with her parents, carefree and happy.

  Unbidden, another thought popped into her head.

  Does this have to do with Mom?

  Goosebumps exploded over her skin and she inhaled sharply at the notion. She hurried back up the back steps and into her bedroom, closing the door firmly behind her.

  Why would I think about Mom now? She wondered. Shay had done her best not to think about Clara in years, the realization that her mother had abandoned them for a younger man too painful for her to entertain.

  True, Shay had been a teenager when it had happened and it wouldn’t have been the first affair to have rocked their family, but even so, the idea that Clara would walk away without so much as a goodbye still stung. A lot.

  But what if she didn’t say goodbye because she didn’t really run off?

  She’d be lying if she said it was the first time such a thought had occurred to her but the father Shay had always known and loved could not have been capable of harming his wife, regardless of her adulteress ways.

  Shay had always secretly believed that her powers had been the catalyst to Clara leaving, but now, she wasn’t so sure.

  Dad isn’t the same man he was, no matter what Tina says. He can’t look me in the eye the same way he could before.

  The midnight meetings, the covert interviews, they all had to mean Geoff was hiding something, didn’t it? Her head was starting to swim and Shay placed the tea on the desk next to her laptop.

  She slid onto the chair, sighing heavily as her fingers danced over the keyboard. But when she opened her email, she paused, her brow furrowing again. Yet another unwarranted thought had filled her mind and she had no idea from where it had materialized.

  What made me think of him tonight? She wondered. I haven’t messaged him in years.

  Inhaling, she leaned forward and began to hammer away at the keys as if guided by an invisible hand. When she was finished, she dug up her contacts and scrolled through the list.

  With a sinking heart, she realized that he might not even be on this email server. It had been that long since Shay had last heard from him.

  Or was he waiting on a message from me?

  It was impossible to remember anymore—she knew she hadn’t sent him an email since before her mother had vanished.

  She exhaled with relief when she saw his name appear. She had moved him over when she’d changed email addresses after all.

  With a simple click, she sent out the message and sat back, oddly relieved by the simple gesture.

  Speaking with Coy always made me feel better when I was a girl. Maybe that’s why I’m reaching out now.

  Whatever the reason, she hoped that he would return her email, that his address was still the same.

  The idea that he might not respond filled her with an almost insurmountable sadness, one which shocked her. The sense of loneliness that filled her at the thought caused the grief of her mother leaving to loom up again.

  Well damn, I’m morose tonight.

  You’re tired and stressed out, she told herself, standing quickly before anymore ridiculous thoughts could enter her mind. Go to bed before you drive yourself crazy. After work tomorrow, it looks like you’re apartment hunting. It’s going to be a long day.

  But as her head hit the pillow, the tea untouched by her computer, Shay fell into a dreamless sleep, unaware of exactly how long a day it was going to be.

  Chapter 3

  Simon barked as he entered the house, his tail wagging eagerly, and Coy patted his head absently.

  “Hey boy,” he muttered, his mind elsewhere as he enabled the alarm and made his way toward the back of the ground floor. The Labrador retriever barked twice and whined, chasing after his owner.

  “I know. I’m taking you out in a second,” Coy promised, throwing open the door to his mancave. He turned sharply to the left, disabling the invisible beams on the floor and instantly, the pot lights in the ceiling illuminated the room.

  “Good morning, Coy,” the AI intoned through the system as he entered.

  “SHAY, pull up my emails and everything you can find on a Clara Collingwood of Baltimore.”

  “Of course. Would you like me to read your emails, Coy?” SHAY asked in her robotic voice.

  “After I take Simon out,” he agreed. “How many are there?”

  “You have six new emails on your personal account and one new email on your family account,” SHAY said.

  Coy paused and pivoted.

  “On my family account?” he puzzled. “What family account?”

  “Juniorcon@conway.net.”

  Coy blinked several times.

  “That’s strange. Is it spam?”

  But that was a stupid question—spam didn’t make it through the ultra-secure family server.

  But Coy hadn’t used that email in at least a decade.

  Not since I decided to break away from the family and get into the shadier side of…whatever you call what I do.

  Simon whined again.

  “The sender is scollingwood22@vhmail.com. It is not a recognized contact.”

  “Collingwood?” Coy gritted out, the tension suddenly ratcheting up in his body. “Are you sure?” Another stupid question for the AI, really.

  Suspicion filled him, and he clenched his jaw, squeezing his fists to hold back the burst of fury as he considered that he had been set up by Geoff Collingwood.

  “Who is it, SHAY? Who owns that email address?” he demanded.

  “I am locating the precise address of the IP now.”

  Simon barked.

  “Shit, Simon, okay. I’m sorry,” he apologized for getting distracted. “Let’s go. SHAY, hold that thought please.”

  “Yes, Coy.”

  He ushered the dog out of the room and let him out in the backyard, eager to get back to his computer system.

  I knew there was something off about that guy from the minute I got there, he thought, shaking his head. Talking about finding his wife who had ‘disappeared’. He’s probably a serial killer or something.

  Truthfully, Coy wasn’t sure why he’d agreed to help the man. Perhaps he had a soft spot for reuniting people with their families, a sort of penance for all the bad shit he did.

  You’re a hacker, not a PI. He could just hire a detective with the money he’s paying me. Something doesn’t feel right.

  “If she’s anywhere, there has to be a trace of her online,” Collingwood had said. “Through facial recognition or social media. Something, anything. I’m told you’re the best.”

  Coy hadn’t refused,
despite his gut telling him there was much more to the story than he was seeing. He usually accepted clients based on how their worlds could benefit him, but in this case, for some reason, he had accepted anyways. Even knowing that Geoff Collingwood’s file would never contribute to Coy’s covert fight against Oculus.

  But if Geoff Collingwood is sending me messages on an obsolete server, maybe he’s toying with me. Maybe he’s an Oculus operative who is onto my game.

  It was a daunting thought but one that didn’t make much sense. Oculus wouldn’t show their hand so easily. Something else was happening here, something elusive but important.

  Simon pawed at the glass at the patio door and Coy let him inside before hurrying back to his study.

  “SHAY, who is it? Who is the email from on the family server?”

  “It is registered to one Cheryl Collingwood. The address originated at a location in Virginia but this email was sent from Baltimore. Would you like me to locate it?”

  “Not yet. Read the email.”

  His due diligence had told him that Cheryl was the adult daughter of Geoff and Clara Collingwood but Coy had never even seen a photo of her. He couldn’t imagine why she would be emailing him.

  And especially not on my family email.

  “Hi, Coy,” SHAY read. “I know I haven’t written you in a long time but I hope you haven’t forgotten me.”

  Instantly, a sizzle of awareness coursed through Coy’s body. He knew exactly who it was, even before the computer continued to read in her robotic voice.

  Shay?!

  “I don’t know why you popped into my mind today. Maybe because I’m going through a confusing time… and you always made me laugh when we were younger. Anyway, I have no idea if you even use this email anymore but I thought I’d say hi and let you know that someone is thinking about you. All the best, Shay.”

  “Shit,” Coy muttered. “Shay.”

  It was inconceivable to him that he hadn’t put two and two together before. The strange sizzle of awareness that had overcome him when he’d been driving to the house—it was the same one he’d felt when he had been near her in the woods all those years ago.

  What are the chances? Is this a setup?

  “Would you like me to send a response, Coy?” SHAY asked.