Sincere or not, the last thing she needed right now was Doug’s reappearance in her life. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. Jayden doesn’t do well with change.”
“Having both parents is good for a child.”
When she didn’t immediately respond, he lowered his voice and continued, “He’s my son, Darci, and I have a right to see him. I think any judge would agree with me on that.”
Judge? She swallowed hard. Doug didn’t intend to take her to court, did he?
But what he said was true. He did have the right to see Jayden. But it would be on her terms, in her presence.
“I’ll bring him out.”
When she stepped inside, her mom was just coming out of the kitchen. Her gaze dipped to Darci’s empty hands. “No mail?”
“I didn’t make it that far. Doug is here.”
Her eyes widened and her mouth formed a silent O. But Darci didn’t take the time to explain. She scooped Jayden from the couch, propped him on her hip and headed back out. She would explain later.
Her parents knew Doug. She’d dated him her entire senior year of college, and he’d spent every holiday with her family. He was an only child, raised by a meek, submissive mother and an overbearing tyrant of a man whom he hated. She’d never met his mother and stepfather. She’d had no desire to.
She stepped onto the porch and pulled the door shut. Doug took a step closer, but didn’t make any move to take Jayden. Instead, he lifted a hand and gave him two awkward pats on the back. “Hey, little man. How’s it going?”
Jayden turned away and buried his face in the side of her neck.
Doug dropped his hand. “I guess he’s shy.”
“Yeah, you could say that.”
Doug searched her face. “I’d like to take you two out for dinner tonight.”
“I’m sorry. I have plans.” If Conner asked, she would have dinner with him. If not, she would spend the evening with her parents. If neither of those options panned out, there was always plan C—pizza and a Disney video with Jayden.
“Tomorrow?”
She shook her head.
“When can I see you again?”
“Me? Or Jayden?” Something told her he was using Jayden as an excuse to see her. “I’ll allow you to visit Jayden, but I’m not going out with you.”
His jaw tightened. Doug wasn’t used to being told no. But he recovered quickly. “Then when can I see Jayden again?”
She hesitated. Doug wasn’t creepy. But since she’d rather not see him at all, here in Cedar Key was better than alone at her house. “I’m here every weekend.”
“And in Gulf Hammock during the week.” One side of his mouth cocked up in a cunning smile. It was in his tone, too. He was letting her know that he’d followed her and now knew where she lived.
Uneasiness trickled over her. Doug didn’t seem like stalker material. With his smooth manner and good looks, he could have his pick of attractive women. He wasn’t one to waste time on a challenge. But she really didn’t know him. A lot could happen in five years.
Without another look at Jayden, he bid her farewell and got into the SUV. When she stepped back into the house, mail in hand, her mom was sitting in the recliner crocheting, vertical creases of concern pressed between her brows. Darci pushed the door shut as worried blue eyes met her own.
“What did Doug want?”
She handed her the envelopes she’d retrieved. “He claims that he wants to see Jayden, but he’s decided to try to renew a relationship with me.”
Her brows lifted. “And?”
“I told him no way.”
A relieved sigh spilled from her mother’s mouth. During the time she’d dated Doug, her parents had made known their concerns, more than once. All the flaws she’d been blind to, her mother had spotted—his irresponsibility, his selfishness, his tendency to live for today.
When she returned home single and with a baby on the way, the fact that she’d wandered so far from her Christian upbringing had broken her parents’ hearts. But they had welcomed her back with open arms. So had her church. And never once had anyone said I told you so.
Jayden straightened his legs, the cue that he wanted down. As soon as his feet touched the floor, he ran across the room, climbed onto the couch and picked up the iPad. Darci rolled her shoulders, trying to dispel the tension that had settled there.
The situation with Doug probably wouldn’t last long. As soon as he accepted the fact that they were over for good, he would once again disappear. Regardless of what he’d said, he wasn’t there for Jayden. Even less so once he understood the extent of Jayden’s issues. Doug didn’t handle inconveniences well.
The roar of a motorcycle cut into her thoughts. It grew louder, then lowered in pitch and fell silent. Her pulse picked up. Conner had arrived.
As she hurried to the door, a shadow passed over her, extinguishing her temporary lift in spirits. Conner’s presence was a vivid reminder that she had more serious issues on her plate than getting rid of an unwanted ex.
Issues like a threatening email, mysterious files on her computer, a suspicious boss watching her every move—and a predecessor who had vanished without a trace.
FIVE
Darci released her hold from Conner’s waist and stepped off the bike. Although P. T.’s parking lot was empty, he’d hidden it several yards into the woods.
He swung his leg over the back of the bike and stood. After hanging both of their helmets from the handlebars, he looked down at her, his expression somber. “Are you ready to get this done?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
She fell into step beside him and made her way toward the building that housed the offices. Dead leaves and dried twigs crunched beneath their feet, and a breeze whispered through the trees. Uneasiness tightened her shoulders. The sooner they could get done and away from there, the better she would feel.
At the break room door, she pulled a key from her jeans pocket. She hadn’t brought her purse. Everything she needed was on her person. Her jacket held her phone and wallet, and a folded sheet of paper waited in the back pocket of her jeans. It contained a whole page of password combinations. Hopefully, one of them would work.
When she reached her office, Conner stayed in the hall.
“I’m going to stand guard out here, in case we get company.”
She nodded. No one was likely to show up on a Saturday afternoon, but having Conner keeping vigil took the edge off her nervousness.
She pulled the paper from her back pocket and slid into the swivel chair. When she pressed a button on her monitor, the screen lit up and a second later, a seaside scene filled the space. It was her own photo, the view from her parents’ back deck. Waves rolled ashore as two dolphins played in the distance. Farther out was the familiar patch of green—Atsena Otie. The custom desktop gave her something to calm and warm her during the hectic workday. Today, though, its soothing effect was lost on her.
She went right to work, opening the D. Tucker Personal folder, and started with the untitled file. Each of the first several dozen tries resulted in the same error message. When a page appeared, excitement shot through her.
“I’m in.” The password was ridiculously easy—Tucker0417, her last name, followed by her birth month and birthday.
Conner poked his head in the door. “What is it?”
She squinted and studied the screen. “CEBBBZBZ, followed by a long number. The other two lines are similar.”
“What do you think it means?”
“No idea.” She shook her head. “It can’t be an acronym, not with four Bs and two Zs.”
“Copy and paste it into an internet search.”
She raised her brows. Nothing was likely to come up, but she did as he suggested. Moments later, she gasped. Dread descen
ded on her with the force of an avalanche. A whole page of results had displayed, each saying essentially the same thing. CEBBBZBZ was the SWIFT code for the Central Bank of Belize.
Conner stepped into her office and, within seconds, had rounded her desk and stood with a protective hand on her shoulder. She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold back the panic that was building inside her.
Conner leaned toward the monitor. “What’s a SWIFT code?”
“It’s like a routing number for a bank outside the US.”
“And I bet what follows is an account number.” His voice was low and ominous. What he didn’t say was that the account was likely in her name. But he was probably thinking it. She certainly was. Hunter’s argument that her financial status would eliminate her as a suspect had just gotten blown to smithereens.
“Check the next one.”
She plugged in the series of letters that began the second line. “Scotiabank, Tortola, British Virgin Islands.” After a few more clicks, she sank back in her chair. “Banco Central de la Republica Dominicana, Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic.” She went back to the Word document and clicked Print, then sat back in her chair with a sigh.
“And in case things aren’t already bad enough, Jayden’s father showed up this morning. Now of all times, he’s decided that he wants to be a part of our lives.”
A tic started in Conner’s jaw. “What did you tell him?”
“He has a right to see Jayden. Anything beyond that, I told him to forget it.”
His features relaxed and something that looked like relief flashed across his face. Or maybe she imagined it. Since he had no romantic interest in her, he wouldn’t care who she did or didn’t date.
She pulled the page out of the printer. “I’ll call the banks on Monday and check out the account numbers.”
She knew what she would learn. Wiggins was making it look as if she was well paid for her part in their crooked dealings. She was caught in his web, and he was spinning the silk threads more and more tightly around her.
There was still one more file, the one labeled Transactions. What else had he done? Before Conner could even take up his position in the hall, she was in. This one was protected by the same password as the other one. Wiggins hadn’t gotten very creative.
Of course, he intended to make it easy. If the authorities started closing in, it had to be a password that he, or they, could crack.
She leaned toward the monitor. This file was exactly what it purported to be—transactions. Although what kind, she had no idea. The left column contained dates, three pages worth. The numbers in the second column appeared to be quantities. The last column was dollar amounts.
She clicked Print and waited. First, she would compare the transactions with the Fuller Construction invoices. Then she would work her way through the other customers. If she could find a match, it might lead her to Wiggins’s accomplice.
Conner returned to his post in the hall. “Did you learn anything about that phone number yet?”
“Hunter called this morning. It’s to a throwaway phone, so it could belong to anybody. I’ve dialed it several times. Usually it goes to a computerized voice message. A couple of times, though, someone has picked up and not said anything, just held the phone and listened. And twice, someone has called me and done the same thing. I can’t shake the feeling that it’s all connected.”
The first page fell into the tray, and the printer grabbed a second sheet. If she had to do extensive printing, she would ask to be upgraded from her old ink-jet to a laser printer.
She continued, “Hunter has also gotten the results of Wiggins’s background check. Nothing except a ten-year-old fraud charge. And they were never able to track down the car that ran me off the road. We’re batting zero all the way around.”
“I’ve been about as successful as you. I finally got ahold of someone at the number you gave me for Stanley Thomas. The guy has never owned a Case bulldozer, and his name isn’t Stanley Thomas. He’s had the same number for the past five years, so it was bogus at the time that bill of sale was created.”
The second page finished printing, and Conner’s eyes widened. “Someone’s coming in the front door.”
Her heart leaped into her throat. Her printer was still chugging away, the last page just under halfway done. If she cut the power, the half-printed sheet would be trapped inside. And trying to cancel the job this far in would accomplish nothing.
Conner stood in the doorway with his weight shifted to his toes, as if ready to bolt. “Come on, we need to hide.”
She closed the file and turned her monitor off, then sat with her arm extended, ready to grab the last sheet as soon as the machine released it. “I need to get this first.” Her voice was a harsh whisper. “I can’t take a chance on someone seeing it.”
The front door slammed shut and muffled voices reached her. She sprang to her feet, her heart pounding against her ribs. The printer dumped its last sheet, then fell silent. As she snatched the page and put it with the others, her gaze locked with Conner’s. His eyes held a wildness she’d never seen before, a wildness that was likely reflected in her own.
The voices grew louder. Two men were headed their direction—Wiggins and someone else.
She gave Conner a sharp wave and opened one of the double doors at the back. “Quick, in the closet.”
It wasn’t large. Floor-to-ceiling shelves occupied two thirds of the width, leaving a two-by-two-foot area on one side. But it was the best she could do. Conner stepped backward into the tiny space, and she backed in against him, because there was no other choice. She pulled the door shut with the slightest thud as dual footsteps sounded in the hall.
“How long do you think this will take?” Judging from the volume of Wiggins’s voice, he wasn’t more than a few yards away.
“Not long. Thirty minutes tops. And another ten or fifteen for me to show you how to use it.”
Darci tensed. They were really close now, probably headed to Wiggins’s office. Or maybe even her own.
A fluorescent glow appeared at the bottom of the closet door, confirming her latter suspicion. Someone had just turned on her office light.
Wiggins continued, “I need to see everything she does when I’m not here. I have some suspicions about her, reasons to believe she might be embezzling money.”
Anger surged through her, along with an irrational need to defend herself. She’d never even taken a pen or pack of Post-it notes that didn’t belong to her.
“Trust me.” Confidence filled the man’s tone. “This will capture everything she does.”
Her chair creaked as someone’s bulk settled into it, and her anger instantly morphed into fear. Wiggins was likely standing less than four feet away. A watery weakness settled in her legs, and she began to tremble. Lord, please don’t let them open the closet door.
Conner’s arms slid around her waist and tightened protectively around her. She closed her eyes and leaned into him, drawing from his strength. His embrace was firm and warm, chasing away the chill that had been her constant companion for the past two weeks. The gesture was intended to comfort and bolster her. Nothing more. But that didn’t keep her from longing for what she couldn’t have.
“And she won’t know?”
Wiggins’s words jerked her thoughts back to what was happening on the other side of the door.
“Not unless she really goes looking.”
What was Wiggins doing? Installing cameras?
“If she does find it, will she be able to shut it off?”
It. One camera, apparently.
“Not likely. Disabling one of these is no problem for guys like me. But your average user doesn’t have that level of technological knowledge.”
“Don’t count on it. Tucker’s a lot smarter than what I gave her credit
for.”
“Quit your worrying and let me get this program installed.”
Program. Wiggins was having something installed on her computer, probably a keylogger. Now he could find out everything she did while he was gone.
But that wasn’t all. It would also make a permanent record of any evidence Wiggins planted against her, something for him to give to the authorities to prove her guilt and his own innocence.
She crossed her arms in front of her, putting her hands over Conner’s. He believed in her. So did Hunter. But that wouldn’t do her much good when everything blew up.
Because the evidence against her was mounting.
And this keylogger program was just one more nail in her coffin.
* * *
Conner bounced over the bumpy dirt drive, the cloud of dust trailing him visible in his rearview mirror. He’d finished the service on the Komatsu bulldozer and gotten everything buttoned up in the nick of time. It was two minutes past five.
Since last week’s repairs, the 2006 Case was working like a charm. Its paperwork seemed to be in tiptop shape also. The serial number matched, right down to the last digit. In spite of Claire’s concerns, neither he nor Darci had been able to find anything amiss with the purchase.
As he approached the office building, his gaze swept the employee parking area to its rear. Darci had sent him a text at lunchtime. It was short and sweet—We need to talk. All afternoon, he’d gone about his job with an underlying anticipation. She had apparently discovered something.
Conner pulled into an empty space and waited. Two people walked out of the building, then Darci appeared. The moment she saw him, a smile spread across her face and her eyes lit up. Warmth flowed through him. The memory of hiding in the closet and how good she’d felt in his arms was too fresh in his mind.
He stepped out of his truck. “Hey, you.”
“Hey, yourself.” She lowered her voice, even though her two coworkers had already gotten into their vehicles. “I came out to my car at lunchtime and called the three banks. The accounts are all in my name, $40,000 in one and almost $30,000 in each of the other two.” She frowned. “Finding out I had almost $100,000 sitting in the bank would be a dream come true if it wasn’t likely to send me to jail. But on a more positive note, I found a match on the transactions.”
Mistletoe Justice Page 7
