Let Sleeping Cats Lie: The 9 Lives Cozy Mystery Series, Book Four

by Louise Clark

  The last time he’d been out to EBU had been in November last year when he and Christy had been searching for the murderer of Brittany Day. They had just gotten together and every day he found himself sliding more and more deeply under her spell. He remembered the fearless way she’d confronted the predatory grad student, Lorne Cossi, and how she charmed Brittany’s unfortunate faculty advisor, Jacob Peiling. The thoughts warmed him and made him ache at the same time. It didn’t seem right that he was now headed out to the university with another woman.

  Eventually, Tamara interrupted his brooding with a question, and rescued him from his painful, unproductive thoughts. He answered her, then deliberately kept the conversation going until they reached the edges of the EBU campus. After that it was easy to focus on the moment as he searched for a parking spot.

  EBU was a large campus with lots of open space between the buildings, but on this rainy afternoon that was more of a problem than a benefit, since parking was on the outskirts and the buildings weren’t interconnected. As soon as she was out of the car, Tamara reached into her bag and pulled out a collapsible umbrella. She huddled under it, offering to shelter Quinn too. He smiled, but shook his head. The spring rain was warm and he was used to walking in it without an umbrella.

  They had no problem finding the building. It was one of the university’s newer structures, a streamlined infill in the modern style, set between two old grey stone buildings. Olivia Waters’ office was on the third floor. When they found it, they were fifteen minutes early. Tamara knocked on her door anyway.

  “Come in,” a low, husky voice called. Quinn watched Tamara take a deep breath, gather her courage, and shove open the door.

  The woman inside had blonde hair, cut short at the sides, with a side part that had a lock of hair crossing her forehead. Her pale skin was flawless, her cheekbones high, and her nose and chin both had a determined jut. Large blue eyes, fringed with thick, dark lashes studied Tamara critically as she entered. After a minute, Olivia smiled. In repose, her expression was formidable, but when she smiled her whole face lit up, expressing pleasure, mischief and delight. When you were at the receiving end of that smile you knew you were welcomed, without reservation.

  Quinn frowned to himself, as something nagged at him. He shook off the feeling as Tamara introduced them both.

  Olivia jumped up from her chair and came round the desk that dominated the center of the office. She was of average height, slender and lithe in her movements. She opened her arms and enveloped Tamara in a heartfelt hug. “My dear, I am so glad to finally meet you!” She stepped back, silently studying Tamara’s face, before the turned to Quinn. “Mr. Armstrong, I’ve watched your broadcasts and read most of your work over the years. It is a pleasure to be introduced.”

  Quinn smiled back at her. Olivia Waters had a reputation of being something of a tyrant, but he was seeing nothing of that aspect of her personality right now. He wondered if she’d be open for an interview, but decided now was not the moment to ask. Instead, he said, “I’m delighted to meet you, Ms. Waters. You’re a legend in the computer field.”

  She snorted as she pointed to a sofa set against one wall, indicating they should sit down. “Legend! That just means I’ve been around for a while and am getting old. You must both call me Olivia.”

  Laughter leapt into her eyes as she spoke and the smile on her lips hinted at mischief. She certainly didn’t look old. Though Quinn knew she was in her fifties, with her vibrancy and the perfect skin with its lack of obvious wrinkles, she could have been ten or more years younger. Now she was a striking woman. In her twenties, she must have been a heart-stopping combination of refined, intelligent features and vibrant personality. Just like—

  No. Couldn’t be.

  The sofa was flanked by two chairs. Quinn chose one of the chairs, while Tamara took the sofa. She cleared her throat and said in a low voice, “I know it’s not usual protocol for donors to meet with the CMSA person they sponsor, so I want to thank you for seeing me. I hope I’m not intruding or causing any … difficulty for you.”

  The laughter died in Olivia’s eyes and was replaced by concern. She sank down onto the sofa beside Tamara, her gaze intent, her expression absorbed. Quinn had seen that look before, but not on the face of Olivia Waters.

  She clasped both of Tamara’s hands in her own. “Nonsense, my dear. If you hadn’t come to me, I would have gone to Toronto to meet you. I was waiting until you were … stronger before intruding on your recovery.” She smiled again, but this time there was worry in her blue eyes. “But now you are here and we can talk. Tell me how you are feeling, what your plans are. How long you are able to stay on the West Coast.” She flicked a mischievous glance Quinn’s way. “How you came to meet the famous Quinn Armstrong.”

  Quinn cleared his throat, embarrassed. Tamara laughed, which he suspected was Olivia’s intention all along.

  “I met Quinn in North Africa, a few weeks before I was kidnapped.” She glanced at him, the amusement still in her eyes, reminding him of the old Tamara. “We clicked right from the first.” She looked back at Olivia. “I asked him to come with me today because I want to ask you a question. And, well, I felt I needed support.” She paused, gathering herself.

  Olivia frowned. Quinn wondered if she had any idea what was coming and how she would react when Tamara dropped her bomb.

  “I … You know I’m adopted.” As Olivia’s frown deepened, Tamara grimaced. “Or maybe you don’t. Probably you don’t. Well, I am.”

  Olivia sat very still. Her gaze didn’t waver, and the frown hid whatever what reaction she might be having to Tamara’s words.

  “I never worried about who my birth parents were until I was kidnapped. Then I wondered whether they ever thought about me. Whether or not they would care if I never came back and we never met. It became an obsession with me, I’m afraid, a way to pass long hours alone. I decided if I did regain my freedom, I would find out who they were and I’d … well, I’d meet them.”

  “How—” Now it was Olivia’s turn to pause. She cleared her throat. “How does this concern me?”

  Tamara leaned forward. Her expression was eager, her gaze hopeful, trusting. She had no idea who she was talking to. “My adoption was a private one and the names of my birth parents were carefully hidden, but I think they must have cared about me, because they set up a trust fund for me. The lawyer who administers it says he can’t tell me who they are, because their identities are buried deep behind layers and layers of protection. You’re an expert in cyber security. I was hoping that you’d help me peel back those layers and find them.”

  Olivia didn’t say anything; she just stared. The frown etched on her features made her expression one of formidable disapproval. Tamara faltered and leaned back, pulling her hands from Olivia’s for the first time. An ugly red flush darkened her cheeks. She lowered her eyes and bit her lip.

  Quinn looked from Tamara to Olivia. “You should tell her,” he said, his voice rougher than he intended. It had clearly taken a lot for Tamara to openly express these private thoughts. He wasn’t going to let Olivia Waters hide behind pretense when she had the power to soothe and heal.

  His comment shattered Olivia’s composure. The frown dissolved, leaving behind naked vulnerability. “I did plan to, but not this way. Not today. Later, once we got to know each other a little bit.”

  “What … what are you talking about?” Tamara’s gaze flicked from Olivia to Quinn and back. “Tell me!”

  “There’s no need to dig through the trust fund’s security to find your birth parents, Tamara. You’ve already found them.” Tamara frowned. Olivia drew a deep breath. “I’m your mother.”

  “My mother?” Tamara whispered. The red in her cheeks leached away, leaving her pale.

  Olivia nodded.

  Tamara turned on Quinn. There was hurt and growing anger in dark eyes that dominated her colorless face. “Did you know before and not tell me?”

  Quinn reflected that this was the wa
y the old Tamara would have reacted, with angry fire that ignored the boundaries of socially correct behavior.

  “Tamara!” Olivia said, using the disapproving tone of a mother censuring her misbehaving child.

  Quinn shook his head. He didn’t need Olivia’s interference. He was glad to see Tamara let her passion loose again and he was up to the challenge of easing her fears. “I had no idea until you opened the door and I saw Olivia. I began to wonder then, but it wasn’t until we started to talk that I realized.”

  “How?” Olivia asked. She sounded genuinely puzzled.

  “Yes, how? When I had absolutely no idea,” Tamara said.

  A rueful smile quirked up one side of Quinn’s mouth. “I’ve seen the expressions on Olivia’s face before. It took me a while to figure out where, but once I did, I started to notice features you had in common. I was pretty sure I was right.”

  Tamara frowned at her mother, who frowned back. Quinn laughed. They were mirror expressions. Tamara’s hair was a darker blonde than her mother’s, her chin more rounded, her nose much less commanding, while her eyes were brown. Like Olivia, her cheekbones were high in a narrow face and her mouth had the same full, passionate lower lip.

  “Why … why did you give me up?” Tamara’s voice shook, reminding Quinn that this had to be hard for her, even if finding a birth parent had been her ultimate goal.

  Olivia sighed. “I was twenty, still at university, when I met your father. I was an intern in his department. We worked closely together and I fell for him. For a wonderful summer, I believed I was the most important person in his life.” She shrugged. “Then the summer came to an end. I got pregnant with you and he broke it off. It was an old story. He was married and had two kids who were still toddlers. He said he already had a family and wasn’t looking for a new one. He assumed I’d have an abortion, but I couldn’t. I also wasn’t ready to bring up a child. Over the years, I wished—”

  Her expression hardened. “No excuses. Excuses aren’t fair to either of us. I chose logic, not emotion, to make my decision. I interviewed single moms with kids of all ages, then I analyzed the data. It told me that placing you with a solid, loving family would provide you with a more stable home and a better financial future than you would have if you stayed with me. I took a year off school while I was pregnant and got a job at a small law firm. The lawyer I worked for found the Aherns and arranged the adoption before you were even born.”

  Tamara had been pale before, but hearing the stark reality of her birth put so bluntly, had her eyes wide and dark. She pulled her arms closer to her body, her hands in her lap. Quinn reached over, took one and held it. “Are you okay?”

  “I don’t know how to feel,” she said, her voice small and tremulous, as if she was on the verge of tears.

  “You’ll have more questions,” Olivia said. Her tone was brisk. There was no evidence of softer emotions in her expression. “I understand and I’ll try to answer them, all of them.” She took Tamara’s other hand and rubbed it between both of hers. “I want to get to know you, Tamara, the woman you’ve become, your dreams and fears. I hope we can be friends.”

  “I’m not sure,” Tamara whispered. Her eyes searched Olivia’s face, her expression vulnerable.

  Olivia nodded without expression, covering whatever emotions her daughter’s dismay roused. “I understand.”

  “You said … ” Tamara took a deep breath and visibly calmed herself. “You said my father had children. That means I have siblings?”

  “A brother and a sister.” Olivia hesitated, then she said gently, “I doubt they know anything about you.”

  Tamara nodded as if she expected this. She glanced at Quinn for reassurance, before turning back to Olivia. “I want to meet him,” she said.

  Olivia was silent.

  “My birth father,” Tamara said, in case Olivia didn’t understand. “I want to know who he is.”

  Olivia pressed her lips together. “I can’t tell you his name until I speak to him. He needs to give me confirmation he’s okay with it.”

  An alarm went off in Quinn’s brain. If Tamara’s father was the electrician down the street, or the manager of the local grocery store, Olivia would have popped out his identity without a second’s hesitation. No, he must be someone of importance, a man with name recognition. A wealthy man, perhaps even a powerful one.

  He looked thoughtfully at Olivia. “You stayed in touch, then. Even though he refused to acknowledge your baby.”

  Olivia colored, but she said coolly enough, “I’m a prominent person, Quinn, and there are times when Tamara’s father and I connect.”

  Definitely a mover and shaker, then. He wondered who the man was.

  “When I found out you were coming, Tamara, I knew it was time to reveal the truth. I told your father you would want to meet him,” Olivia said briskly. “He didn’t refuse to see you, but, Tamara, I must warn you.” Her voice softened. “He didn’t express excitement or indicate pleasure at the thought of meeting you. Now that the moment has come he may refuse outright. Please don’t take it personally.”

  “How can I not?” Tamara said. Her voice was stronger, enriched with underlying anger, as she rebounded from the shock of all she’d learned.

  Olivia sighed, looking down and away.

  “When will you know if he’s willing to meet Tamara?” Quinn asked into the tense silence that followed.

  Olivia roused herself. “I’ll call him this afternoon.” She glanced at Tamara. “I’ll see if he’s available soon. Tomorrow, perhaps? For dinner?”

  After glancing at Quinn, Tamara said, “Fine, but I want Quinn there too.”

  “Oh, but—”

  Her eyes narrowed, Tamara said, “I want to know who my father is, yes. His name, what he looks like. Even more, I want to know him, the kind of man he is. But I’ll do it on my terms, not his. And my terms include Quinn.”

  Olivia stared back at her, then suddenly she tilted her head back and laughed. “His daughter is tougher than her mother was. All right, Tamara, Quinn comes to the meeting.” She glanced at a clock high on the plain white wall. “Blast, it’s five to three. I have to go, though I don’t want to.”

  They all stood. Olivia hugged Tamara again, though this time Tamara stood more stiffly in her embrace than she had earlier. Olivia shook Quinn’s hand, and as she walked them to the door, she said, “I’ll call you tonight and let you know what’s happening.” When Tamara nodded, Olivia’s gaze softened and she added, “I am so pleased you came today. So glad we have had this chance to meet each other properly.”

  Tamara’s smile was just a faint curve of her lips. “Me, too,” she said.

  Quinn wondered exactly how true either of those statements were.

  Chapter 4

  “I have a bad feeling about this, Dad,” Quinn said, as he paused in the kitchen to let his father know he was leaving. True to her word Olivia Waters had arranged a meeting with Tamara’s birth father. She hadn’t told Tamara who the man was, though, and that only added to Quinn’s earlier sense of problems brewing.

  Added to the lack of identification was the time and location of the dinner meeting—seven-thirty at Connoisseur, one of Vancouver’s premier fine dining restaurants. A fashionable location and a fashionable hour, both of which raised questions in Quinn’s mind. For a man who had shown no interest in acknowledging Tamara, her birth father was awfully keen on being seen with her at the kind of restaurant where who dined there was noticed.

  Roy scrutinized him. “Figure you’ll get stiffed with a four-figure bill?”

  He tugged at the blue tie that he’d worn with a white dress suit and dark suit. You didn’t go to Connoisseur dressed in jeans and a tee. Still, he felt as if he was about to meet his future father-in-law, which only added to his gut feeling that something was off.

  “No, that’s not … ” he began, then realized his father was teasing. “It’s the mystery man. If he’s an average guy, Olivia would have chosen a different venue for what wi
ll probably be a very emotional meeting. He must be someone with money, or status. Or both. Olivia Waters wouldn’t invite him to Connoisseur otherwise.”

  “She might if she harbors a grudge for his desertion all those years ago,” Roy said.

  “You mean she knows he won’t be comfortable and she’s trying to embarrass him?” Quinn considered the suggestion and felt moderately better. His father was good at digging into people’s motivations and he was probably right about this situation. People did all kinds of nasty things to each other after a breakup. His experience with Christy—who had never said a bad word against him since they split—couldn’t be used as a benchmark. But then Christy hadn’t been in love with him, and maybe Olivia Waters had been head over heels for her mystery man.

  Thinking about Christy and what wasn’t to be eliminated his burgeoning good cheer. “I suppose the only way to know is to go and meet the man. I’ll see you later.”

  “Okay. Oh, I almost forgot. We’re doing a barbeque tomorrow. Spur of the moment thing. Why don’t you ask Tamara to come along?”

  He looked at his father through narrowed eyes. “What are you up to, Dad?”

  “Nothing!” Roy said. “Three mentioned that Sledge is stressing about this new manager situation so I thought he could use day with a completely different bunch of people than he usually hangs with.”

  His father looked sincere. Quinn knew from experience that didn’t necessarily mean he was. “Right. You’re worried about Sledge.”

  “I’m not. Three is.” Three was Roy’s name for his old friend, Trevor McCullagh, Sledge’s father. “I thought a home-cooked meal might be a good way for Tamara to get to know us and for us to get to know her.” He managed to look innocent, though his eyes twinkled as he spread his hands wide. “Two birds, you know?”

  It was possible. “Okay. I’ll ask her. She might not want to come, though.”