Blind Copy (The Technicians Series Book 5)

by Olivia Gaines

  “Good enough. As long as there are no more pets,” he said, yawning and settling into sleep.

  RAPHAEL WAS HAPPIER than a pig in slop when he came down for the morning meal to find a breakfast hash with sweet potatoes, onions, and apples, and a two perfectly fried eggs on top. There were also fluffy homemade biscuits that rivaled the ones his mother used to make. She did not include any breakfast meat with the meal and he didn’t even care.

  “You’re going to get me fat,” he said, holding up his plate for a second helping.

  “Then only eat one serving,” she said, planting a kiss on top of his head.

  Karli sat at the table watching him closely. Daniel Craig sat at her feet also watching the man of the house. He felt the eyes on him and asked her and the kitten at the same time, “What?”

  “Your mood is much better,” she said, smiling at him with those adorable eyes.

  He didn’t know what the smile meant, and it made him uncomfortable thinking that she was thinking what he didn’t want her to be thinking. He grabbed for another biscuit and the jam. Willow moved to stand between him and Karli, breaking the stare off. She spoke softly to Raphael.

  “When I get a chance to get my hands on some fresh berries, I will make a nice batch of jam,” she said. “Do you think I should make some for the other wives to take with us as icebreakers?”

  “Icebreakers?” he asked, peering around Willow, still giving Karli the side eye for eyeballing him. “Stop staring at me like that.”

  Karli grinned at him as Dusty came down the stairs. She smiled at her sister, who looked at Raphael giving the same sideways glance. It unnerved him.

  “Cut it out,” he said, using his Dad voice.

  “Daddy, we’re happy you’re happy,” Dusty said, walking around the table to provide a kiss on his cheek, which he accepted. “Skylar wants me to go bike riding with him today and show me the island. Is that okay?”

  “No,” he said, “you don’t know enough about the island, Skylar, or young boys to ride anywhere alone with him.”

  “Our friends are coming too,” Dusty whined.

  “They are not your friends. Those kids are people who live close by. Until your life is put on the line and one of them has to save you, then they are acquaintances that you don’t trust. You understand me?” he asked.

  “Yes Daddy,” Dusty said and let the matter rest for a second. “Can they come over and hang out on the patio again?”

  “No, they can’t. I’m not buying food to feed the neighborhood,” he said, feeling like his father. “I’m sorry, Dusty. I’m not trying to be a hard ass here, but coming from the compound into this fast world of kids with too much money and too little guidance is a recipe for disaster. Give me some time to train you properly to operate in this new world, and then, once you are able to defend yourself and discern danger, you can go. There are too many drugs, drinking, and opportunities for the situation to go bad. I don’t want you hurt.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she said, “I hear you and respect your decision.”

  Dusty took a seat at the table, made her a plate of food, and didn’t bring the subject up again for the remainder of the day. She followed him to the boat on her bicycle and worked at his side helping to clean his boat, and even had Skylar, who joined them later to swab the deck. As the lunch hour neared, Skylar wanted to head out for a slice. He asked if Dusty could come along.

  “Skylar, are you willing to protect my daughter? If some man tries to touch her, what will you do?” Raphael asked.

  “If he is larger than me, I’m going to get out my phone, take a photo of him and then call 9-1-1,” Skylar said. “If I think I can take him, that dude’s ass is going to get kicked for messing with my girl.”

  In Mr. Exit’s estimation, Skylar couldn’t beat his own meat with his left hand on a raining night in a cabin high in the mountains, but he had heart. Raphael passed Dusty a 20.

  “Pizza, home. One hour,” he said, pointing at Skylar. “The last thing you ever want is to have me come looking for you, Skylar.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Skylar said, helping Dusty down from the deck. He watched them ride off on their bikes, still worried, but he had other items on his list to work through, mainly, a dance lesson with Karli before the big night.

  Raphael scratched the side of his face, ready to head home when his phone rang. It was the Archangel.

  “Exit,” he said into the line.

  Gabriel’s voice was clipped, “Did you know?”

  “In my world, the things that I may know or may not be privy can run the gamut. Would you care to be more specific?” he asked in a droll tone.

  “The Glitter Man, in Kentucky, he’s killed a few people,” Gabriel said. “People who are connected to the packages in your home.”

  “I knew.”

  “Did you have anything to do with it?”

  “I’m insulted you should ask such a thing from a man with my honorable reputation,” Exit said, waiting for more information.

  “Don’t try to make it seem like you’re fancy. You’re an assassin. A well-paid one, but nonetheless a killer. It appears to be mighty convenient that the men who would stand in the way of your happy family are falling ill,” Gabriel said.

  “Hymn is sick?”

  “No, Kindred is dead,” Gabriel said.

  “Yeah, and?”

  “Hymn paid the Glitter Man to take care of Kindred. Rami has taken it upon himself to knock off a few of the soldiers surrounding Hymn,” Gabriel said. “There was also an argument where Rami has threatened to find the woman, record her being...intimate and give it to Hymn.”

  “Well, that’s perverted,” Exit said in a bored voice.

  “Are you being intimate with that woman?”

  “Are you planning to marry us on Tuesday?”

  “Yes, I am,” Gabriel replied.

  “Then you do you and let me handle this,” Exit said. “My eyes are always open. See you Tuesday.”

  In his opinion, the Archangel was as messy as a woman without a steady man in her bed. He appreciated the attempt at providing him a heads up, but in his world, information came and information went; it was up to him to determine which was more relevant and pressing. What was relevant and pressing was his stomach, which felt like it was touching his spine. His stomach grumbled. He was hot and sweaty, plus he hadn’t been fishing in nearly three weeks. Fishing. Sex. Fishing. Sex. He liked the sex much better, but truly missed fishing. Now he had to go and teach a 10-year-old to dance before taking her on a date tonight.

  A smile came to the corners of his mouth as he thought about Karli in pretty bows, a bit of lip blusher, and white hose with shiny black Mary Jane shoes. He threw his head back in a sad sigh because his next concern was to make sure he had a tie to match her dress.

  “Shit, she needs a corsage,” he said, climbing down from the boat. “And I have to buy berries too and shit for Willow to make jam.”

  THE AFTERNOON DANCE lessons paid off. He waited at the base of the stairs as Karli descended wearing a yellow pleated skirt dress with a lace bodice and a demi white sweater, white tights, and shiny black shoes. Raphael swallowed hard, nearly choking back the tears he didn’t know his body still produced as she made it to the bottom step and performed a slight curtsey.

  “You look so beautiful,” he said, slipping the corsage onto her wrist.

  “Thank you, Daddy,” she said with a wide smile. “Look what Mommy made for me.”

  She turned in the middle of the floor. With each spin and revolution, the pleats opened to reveal small colorful unicorns tucked neatly away behind each fold. The large bow in her hair, which she wore in a ponytail, was held together by a unicorn ribbon.

  “That is one amazing dress, Pooh Bear. You look stunning,” he said softly with his eyes going to Willow. In her spare time, which he didn’t understand where she found any, she had made a matching bow tie and cummerbund for him. He hadn’t worn the tuxedo in the back of his closet in years and opted instead for h
is black suit and the tuxedo shirt. If Willow found a pair of unicorn cufflinks that would be the point where he would draw the line.

  Karli was anxious to leave, asking her father, “Are we ready?”

  “Yes ma’am,” he said, extending his arm.

  “Wait, we need family photos,” Willow called out and gathered everyone at the base of the stairs. It was then that he noticed the damned dog also had on a unicorn tie and the kitten wore a tiny yellow felt hat with a matching mini jacket.

  “Listen, you guys are going to have to stop torturing these animals,” Raphael said when Pierce looked at him as if he were begging for help. There was nothing he could do to help the dog. The cat didn’t seem to give a shit one way or another and Willow started to cry.

  Dusty snapped a million photos with her phone since Willow couldn’t stop crying long enough to get a clear shot. Raphael cautioned Dusty to not post the pictures online or share them with anyone, because that would cause a problem. He warned her that they were still not safe nor completely out of the woods.

  The teenager didn’t think any harm would come from sharing the photo with Skylar, who sent it to Jamal, who shared it with his mother, who was one of the organizers of the Father Daughter Dance, who then shared it on her social media pages. However, he couldn’t totally fault Dusty since more pictures were taken at the dance, and Karli, showcasing her ballroom waltzing moves and revealing the hidden unicorns in her skirt, became the Belle of the Ball. This resulted in more pictures being taken and uploaded to social media before Raphael could stop the fawning mothers who complimented the man and his adorable daughter. A few of the mothers had known him since high school, while others who worked the party, took the opportunity to take their shot even with the wedding band he wore.

  At nine p.m., Raphael was holding the exhausted bundle of joy who drank too much punch, ate too many cookies, and crashed from the sugar high had fallen limp in his arms. He carried her to the car, driving slowly through the throng of parents about to cause accidents, before arriving home. Willow carefully undressed the little girl, tucking her into bed as Daniel Craig, who had also been waiting for her return, curled up in bed beside his owner, pawed at the covers, and fell asleep.

  By the time the hour struck midnight, Rami Slanecki knew exactly where the children were and who they were with thanks to enhanced software that searched the internet for new postings with the name Karli. The computer dinged, locating a photo of the face based on the Boolean search parameters of ‘Karli’ and ‘Image’ or ‘Karli’ and ‘man’. Her face loaded into the fetching parameters as it searched tirelessly for the image of the young girl and the name Karli.

  The computer dinged with a 98% match for both the name and image.

  “Hmmph, found her,” Rami said, looking at the images of the Father Daughter Dance. “Well, don’t that just beat all. Whodda thunk the world could be this gosh damned small?”

  Six hours later he was on the road, heading toward Hilton Head to pay a visit to his former brother-in-law, who still lived in the house that his former wife hated with a passion. He knew Raphael would never sell the house even after their mother passed away.

  “I can always count on you, Raphael,” he said, humming as he drove to Hilton Head. Rami didn’t have a plan. Based on what he’d seen from Hymn at the compound, he knew beyond a doubt, those girls were in better hands with Raphael Hoyt than they would ever be with their biological father, if in fact, Hymn was actually who he claimed to be.

  His brother-in-law was a sociopath with psychopathic tendencies, but he would never hurt a child, especially considering how protective he was of his mother and sister. However, Rami had made a promise to Hymn that he would find the girls and the woman. He also promised the cult leader that he would get video of her loving another man.

  “How cool would it be to get the girls on film calling that asshole Daddy?” He guffawed hysterically, pressing his foot harder to the pedal, trying to get to Hilton Head to get started. To Rami Slanecki, all of it—family, love, support and caring— was a sham. The Glitter Man planned to prove it to them all.

  Chapter Seventeen – Carbon Copy

  THE TO-DO LIST SEEMED to grow exponentially as Raphael sat behind the desk in his home office making notations of items which required a check to show the task had been completed before their departure on Tuesday morning. Calloused hands ran across the smooth mahogany as he centered himself before setting to work. He loved the old desk. It was the same desk his father had previously worked behind while he looked over medical records, making notes on upcoming surgeries and plans for the family for summer vacations. His father worked in the home office from five a.m. on a Saturday morning to about seven and then would spend the rest of the morning hours with his son, doing father/son jobs around the house. The Saturday mornings were spent cutting the grass, doing small repairs, or cleaning the similar boat he currently sailed. The afternoon hours were dedicated to his sister, doing father/daughter things, from late lunches to shopping for special items she’d earned, or even an afternoon tea. That sort of personal time Raphael planned to add to his list of things to do with Karli.

  His father maintained a set Saturday schedule with the day equally divided into four-hour blocks of quality time with his children. By the arrival of the six o’clock hour, time with the kids was over, and the final Saturday hours his father dedicated to his wife. Sunday mornings meant church, a late lunch, and a family activity.

  “Sunday movie night,” Raphael said, thinking back to the CBS Sunday movies. The girls had lived a sheltered life knowing nothing of the world of Disney, Star Wars, or even Brittney, Christina, or Taylor. “Shit, that might be a good thing.”

  However, having a 10-year-old call Trap music the devil’s grooves wasn’t cool. He had a great deal to bring them up to speed before the start of the school year. Raphael pulled the small notebook he maintained from the drawer, and he went back over the list.

  Clean the gun.

  Threaten teenage boy with gun.

  Show daughter how a boy is supposed to hold her when they dance.

  Dance lessons with teen daughter.

  Clean bigger gun and knife to threaten teenage boy.

  Movie night.

  Set time with the girls on Saturdays.

  Write financial plan, include stocks, bonds, index funds and a few blue chips.

  Raphael opened his laptop, jotting down the items he used in his profession that all of the Technicians also employed, making a note of the parent companies who manufactured the products. Those companies he would include in the portfolio if the stocks were performing well. He began jotting down a separate list of the companies, but his fingers paused on the paper when he heard soft footsteps.

  “Daddy?” a soft voice called from the opened door. “What are you doing?”

  He looked up to see Dusty Rose standing there looking cute as a button in a pair of loose fitted drawstring pants. Raphael recognized the fabric he’d purchased in North Carolina. She’d made a pair of pants from it.

  “Hey, Punkin Puss, I’m working on some financials for my meeting on Tuesday,” he said, looking down again at his notes.

  “Financials, as in money?”

  “Yes, as in planning to make money and have money for the long term,” he said, looking up at her over the edges of his reading glasses. She had a thing on that mind of hers and he was reluctant to ask, but he took on the role of father which meant he wanted to be accessible to her questions, even if they were a pain in his right nut. “What’s on your mind?”

  “This whole money thing. I don’t understand it,” she said, asking if she could come in to speak with him more in detail in which he agreed. “Daddy, Marcella said she gets an allowance. I don’t know what that is, but she makes money and uses it to go to the stores and buy clothes, purses, and cute girl stuff. How do I get an allowance?”

  “Dusty an allowance is a set amount of money given to children or spouses in regular intervals for personal sp
ending,” he said.

  Her hands were folded in her lap as the green eyes stared intently at him. “What do I have to do to earn this allowance?”

  “Usually, a child performs chores around the home to help the mother, maintains good grades in school and stays out of trouble. In turn, I as the father, would provide you with a fixed dollar amount either weekly, every other week or monthly, depending on how responsible you are with the money,” he said.

  Dusty’s hand went into her pocket and brought out a $10 bill and placed it on his desk. She smiled at him and he didn’t know why. The lack of understanding in her move showed on his face as he looked down at the bill.

  “I only spent $10 of the 20 you gave me yesterday. This is your change. I am giving you back what I didn’t use,” she said.

  “You may keep it,” he said, looking over the rim of his glasses. “You can also keep the original twenty I gave you before I left which means now you have $30, if I’m not mistaken.”

  “Will it be a part of my allowance?”

  “Let me talk to your mother, and we will come up with an allowance for you and your sister,” he told her, providing a smile back.

  “Thank you, Daddy,” she said, waving and leaving the office. “Let me know when you’re ready for my dance lessons.”

  He nodded.

  Raphael added talking to Willow about an allowance for the girls to his list. He also wanted to consider the amount of money necessary per month for Willow. He had to factor in groceries. That would include a great number of fresh ingredients which meant more frequency in shopping. On top of all of other changes in his lifestyle, he was living with three vegetarians. Loads of fresh vegetables were required to keep them happy. Then he thought of his mother who practically lived in Quilt shops, craft stores, and more. Willow would need a debit card with a fixed amount to keep track of her crafting budget. Raphael updated his list with more items.