Sweet Caroline

by Micqui Miller

  * * * *

  AT HOME, CAROLINE tried to settle in but the building was too still. No sound, no movement, no Mick.

  Before trying her new key, she'd tried his door, and found it locked as tight as the shining new lock in place to protect it. Tonight she needed Mick's closeness, even if it was just the scent of him. More, she wanted to look into his eyes and know that neither he nor a member of his family could possibly be involved in embezzling funds from ZyQyx. Silence greeted her in the empty hallway.

  By seven she realized she hadn't eaten a thing all day. She'd finally talked with Travis and written down the place and time of his wedding. Feeling restless, she had no appetite for TV and no heart for the task at hand. If she couldn't satisfy her heart, she'd feed her body. "Dinner it is." She grabbed her keys and headed for the Calla Lily. She knew 184

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  she'd find a good meal there, and with any luck, a lingering trace of Mick.

  Twenty minutes later it wasn't Mick who stood in front of her. She closed her menu and looked up to see Ian Foy.

  "What are you doing here?" she asked, so surprised she never considered how she must have sounded to him. Dressed casually, well-groomed as always, he stood holding a long thin box covered with gold foil tucked under his arm. Only the dark circles under his eyes betrayed his foolishness last night.

  "A final apology," he said and handed the box to her. "May I sit down?"

  "Of course. Please join me."

  He settled in while Caroline opened the box to find six violet-colored roses in almost the same color of her eyes, with stems as long as her arm. They were nestled among tissue paper and tied with a bow of golden lace. "These are fabulous, Ian. I've never seen a rose this color. How did you find them?"

  "They're a hybrid I've developed over the years. Roses are my passion."

  "These are incredible."

  "For an incredible lady."

  He picked up a menu. "Have you ordered?" She nodded yes, happy to see he'd attached a small glass vile of water to the stem of each rose. She returned them to the box and set it on the chair to her right. "I'm having the pasta special. The food here is superb." 185

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  "How well I know. I almost bought the place a couple of years ago."

  "It's packed every night. Would have been a good investment."

  "Mick Mahoney thought so, too." He grimaced. "Doubled my offer at the last minute. Claimed he couldn't allow a family treasure to go to an outsider."

  Not again. She'd never before witnessed such unrelenting loathing between two people. "I'm sorry."

  "Don't be. I deliberately bid high, almost twice the appraised value. I knew Mahoney would try to blindside me. You could say he got his comeuppance." Fortunately, Ivy, the waitress Caroline had met on her first night in town, brought her salad.

  "Saints preserve us, I can't believe my eyes. Is that really you, Ian Foy?" She plopped the salad plate in front of Caroline. "How long has it been?"

  "A couple of years. How are you, Ivy? Mahoney treating you well? Or do I have to deal with the rascal?" She barked a hearty laugh. "Go on with you, Ian Foy. You're even more full of the blarney than Mick." She tweaked his chin. "You know, you were always my favorite." Caroline munched on her salad and wondered how many times Ivy had said exactly the same thing to Mick. After Ivy took Ian's order and moved on to the next table, he sat back in his chair. "So what do you have for me, Caroline?"

  She stopped chewing. She knew what he was asking, and that she would have to frame her answer carefully. 186

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  "You told me you were on your way to the office. Did you find anything yet?"

  Caroline rested her knife and fork on the edge of her plate.

  "Ian, these things take time."

  "I understand, but surely by now..." his voice trailed off.

  "Cyber-thieves are very good at what they do. They have no problem covering their tracks with booby traps and black holes. I told you before you ever hired me, before I ever set foot on the plane, that I thought the job would take a minimum of eight weeks. I still believe that's true. I'm good, Ian, but not good enough to repair the damage of two years in six days." She paused to try to read his expression. "I know you're paying me a lot of money—"

  "You're right, Caroline," he cut her off. "No matter what I pay you, it's only a fraction of what ZyQyx is losing daily. You can't blame me for wanting to stop the leak as quickly as possible."

  She picked up her fork and jabbed a sliver of cucumber. " If there is a leak. People refuse to believe that computers can make mistakes, but they do. I've seen cases where companies had already gone to the police only to discover a network failure had caused the problem, that their accounts were intact and their losses only on paper. I'm not convinced that isn't the case here."

  "You're quite the optimist, aren't you, my dear?"

  "I like to think I'm objective."

  "Or are you bent on doggedly proving the Mahoneys innocent?"

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  Her fork clattered to the plate. She felt the heat of anger rise up her neck. "That's not fair and it's baseless."

  "Is it, Caroline?" He looked at her as a father might a guilty child. "I saw how you looked at Mick last night, in front of the apartment and at in the restaurant."

  "Don't be ridiculous."

  "Do you think I don't know who helped you return my car?

  Who you were with? It was almost daylight, Caroline. I saw the two of you together."

  "Ian, I want you to stop this right now. Mick was kind enough to lend a helping hand. He's my landlord, for heaven's sake. We live twenty feet apart—thanks to you. You're the one who offered me the option to live there. If you despise Mick so much, why do you do business with him?" Ian's gaze darted furtively about the room. "Caroline, please." He squirmed in his seat. "Keep your voice down."

  "No, Ian, let's finish this. If you don't trust me, or if you think you can find someone else to do the job quicker and better, that's fine with me. I can pack tonight and catch the first plane back to Dallas in the morning." Ian raised his hand to his face, shielding from Caroline what she guessed he must have been thinking. "I'm sorry, Caroline. I misspoke." He rubbed his eyes, still red around the edges. "I certainly don't want you to leave."

  "Then please quit bringing the Mahoneys into every equation. Do you want the truth, or are you only interested in a witch-hunt? It can't be both."

  Ian reached across the table, and to Caroline's horror, again covered her hand with his. It felt cold and moist, like 188

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  something that had just slithered out of a swamp. She tried not to tense but she couldn't stop herself. He hadn't noticed her reaction. "Forgive my paranoia, Caroline. Brian and Ramona will be leaving the country in a few days. I'm worried what they might be taking with them."

  "They're going on their honeymoon."

  "To Ireland. Did you know that?"

  She shook her head. "No, but so what?"

  "So what?" he burst out, then lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. "Caroline, they have dozens of cousins and family friends still living there. These clans don't go away simply because time passes. What better place to seek safe haven with all of the money they've stolen from ZyQyx?" Caroline couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Ian, you can't make accusations like that without proof." You sound like a nut, she wanted to add.

  "I hired you to get me that proof. Now do you understand my urgency? I have to stop them before it's too late." Caroline tried to stay calm, even though red flags were popping up everywhere. Alternately, she'd thought of Ian as odd, smarmy, and eccentric. This side of Ian took him into psychosis. Since she'd begun her career, she'd seen anger and hatred expressed in dozens of different ways, but she had never looked into
the eyes of anyone so near the edge before. Yes, he was right. She had to find the correct answer as quickly as possible—before he plunged into the abyss and took the Mahoney family with him.

  Her appetite gone, Caroline pushed aside her plate. Ian was making this into a grudge match. Get the Mahoneys at all 189

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  cost. Gosh darn it. She mentally drew the line. I might be a Mahoney, too, and there's no way in hell I'm railroading any of them.

  After a deep breath, she faced him, resolute. "If the Mahoneys are guilty, I'll make a case so strong, they'll rot in prison and pay back every dime they've stolen from you. But I'm telling you right now, Ian, I think you're wrong. What's more, I'm going to prove it. I promised you the truth, and that's what I'm going to give you."

  "Perfect. That's all I ask." He picked up his napkin, shook it open and laid it on his knees. "Now let's eat, shall we?

  Suddenly I'm starved."

  Caroline stared down at her entrée through the pounding at the back of her eyes. She had aspirin in her purse, but she doubted she'd be able to swallow even water to chase down the pills.

  "Caroline, you're not eating. Is something wrong?" She raised her hand to her temple and rubbed the spot throbbing the most. "I sometimes get migraines."

  "Do you take anything?"

  "Mostly aspirin, sometimes prescription drugs." She picked up her handbag, opened the front flap, and ferreted among the things jammed inside. At the same time her fingertips found the aspirin bottle, her cell phone rang. She answered on the third ring. "Hello, this is Caroline."

  "Hello, yourself, this is Mick."

  At the sound of Mick's voice, a rush of pleasure swept through her. She had never been so glad to hear from anyone.

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  With Ian watching closely, she turned away, afraid he might see the excitement in her face or hear the delight in her voice. "Hang on a sec."

  "What's the matter, Caroline?" She heard his urgency and concern. "Is something wrong? Is someone there?"

  "I'm in a restaurant having dinner, so I'm going to take this outside."

  "Is someone bothering you?"

  "No, not at all. I'll be right with you." To Ian, she said, "I have to take this call. Will you excuse me, please?" She didn't wait for his answer. She simply stood and walked away. A few seconds later, she was on the street. "Oh, Mick, I'm so glad you called. Where are you?"

  "At the ranch. Are you sure everything's okay?"

  "Everything's fine. It's just been a long day."

  "If someone hadn't charmed me into driving her around in the middle of the night, both of our days might have been better." He chuckled. "Can you hear the noise in the background?"

  "Sounds like Texas Stadium during a Cowboys' game."

  "Just a full scale Mahoney reunion."

  "You're having more fun than I am."

  "You could be here. Did you read my note?" She sucked in a steadying breath before answering. "Yes, and the locksmith gave me the new keys, too."

  "I'm not talking about the locks, Caroline. I don't want you staying there alone. I want you here, with me." Desire pulled at her. "Mick, I can't."

  "Why not?"

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  Why not? Because she had her living room strewn with enough evidence to start a formal investigation against his brother, because the man who hired her would stop at nothing to hurt the Mahoneys even if it meant accusing an innocent man, and because tucked away inside her suitcase, she had documents that could condemn Mick and her for the kiss they'd shared only hours ago. "There are things I have to tell you, Mick, and you don't have time to listen tonight."

  "I always have time to listen to you." He sounded so sincere, his tone so intimate, so permanent, it transcended the static in their wireless connection. She almost melted right into the sidewalk.

  "Oh, Mick, you don't understand." Misery hung from her every word. "If it were just that simple."

  "It is that simple. I'm inviting you to stay at my mother's house. You'll be safe here," then he added, "even from me if that's what's worryin' you."

  A long moment passed before Caroline answered. She knew Mick would never do anything she didn't want him to do. But could she trust herself?

  "Mick, you'll be back soon. We can talk then. It's better this way."

  "How? With you there and me here." She sensed his irritation building.

  "Mick, please. You have to trust me." His voice had lost its warmth and its silken quality. "I trust you, Caroline, but it's obvious you don't trust me. I'm sorry I interrupted your dinner."

  "Mick, wait. Don't hang up this way." 192

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  "I've been honest with you, Caroline, but you won't stop lying to me, will you?"

  "Stop it, Mick. I'll explain every..." Click!

  * * * *

  "A PROBLEM?"

  Caroline dragged herself back to the table and sat down. She'd taken a few minutes to compose herself, to fight the tears that were so near. "No, it was one of my friends from Dallas," she said. "Ian, I really don't feel very well." She reached inside her wallet and laid a fifty on the table. "This should cover both of our dinners."

  "Put your money away, Caroline, I've already taken care of it." He stood and put an arm around her shoulders and scooped up her box of roses with his other hand. "Let's get you home. You're deathly pale."

  * * * *

  CAROLINE SAT IN darkness for more than hour, waiting, listening, hoping that Mick would change his mind and come home.

  "Home," she whispered. Mick was home, with his family, with Annie. Yes, he might want Caroline, but he didn't need her. He didn't need any woman, and that's what hurt the most.

  Caroline switched on the lamp and fumbled through her purse for her phone and the note where Mick had written the number of his cell.

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  On the third ring, he answered. "Mick Mahoney here." She started to speak, but stopped. She had everything and nothing to say. She wanted to lose herself in his arms, to be held and loved by him until everything was right, everything that might never be right.

  "Who's there? Caroline, is that you?" Before she said or did anything she might regret, Caroline pressed the End button and broke the connection. 194

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  Chapter Fourteen

  BY LATE THURSDAY morning, Caroline had gathered enough data to prove the ZyQyx Corporation was indeed under siege by a high tech bandit. Over the past twenty-four months—and in the last two weeks particularly—more than

  $2.5 million had been diverted through an intricate network of bogus credit card accounts, banks, and several different computer addresses. She knew the points of origin and the transactions' final destinations. Each translated into another nail in Brian Mahoney's coffin.

  Like someone had waved a magic wand, every time Caroline turned on her computer another diversion of funds revealed itself, leaving her little more to do than connect the cyber-dots. If it weren't so serious, it would have been comical. Someone was setting up Brian, someone with enough knowledge of programming and with sufficient access to the data to commit the fraud. The activity escalated almost hourly. By the end of the day, if it continued, the losses would total $3 million. Or so the plan's mastermind would think. Monday afternoon, Caroline had shadowed the hacker's program with one of her own. In its simplest form, she was interrupting the transactions and diverting the funds to a new destination at ZyQyx. Any hacker worth his salt would have seen her overlay immediately and either ceased activity or countered with one of his own. Never happened. It was almost as if they were more interested in taking the funds out of ZyQyx than using them once they had them. But who? And 195

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  how would she convince Ian not to press charges against Brian? Everything she had on paper pointed directly to him. After their dinner on Sunday evening, Ian had backed off and agreed to let Caroline do her job. He'd told her to take as much time as she needed to amass the proof necessary to make charges stick once she'd identified the perpetrator. She had that proof now, not in eight weeks as she'd estimated, but in eight days.

  Caroline sat back in her chair and watched the code roll. If the pattern held true, there'd be another theft in the next 45

  to 90 seconds, in an amount anywhere from $100 to $300. They'd been going on since she'd signed on at six this morning, so regularly, she could have set her watch by them. She'd requested a meeting with Ian at one o'clock. That meant she had less than two hours to figure out how to keep Brian Mahoney out of jail on the eve of his wedding. Caroline ran her fingers through her tangles of curls and piled them atop her head, stretched her arms and tired muscles as she did. She'd liked Brian right off. They'd teased and joked, until it came to his job. Then he was the consummate professional.

  Ramona, on the other hand, was the consummate blonde, although her hair was just this side of coal black. Twentyseven going on fifteen, she was charming, likeable and madly in love with her man. They made a darling couple. Caroline guessed Ramona would be pregnant before the year ended. No way Brian would give up everything he had and was heir to, simply to swindle his boss.

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  She sat up and opened her desk drawer. She'd bought them a wedding present Monday evening, the night she'd gone shopping for a dress to wear to the wedding. She hadn't found one, and now it didn't matter. She hadn't heard from Mick, not since he'd hung up on her Sunday evening. Caroline took the elegantly wrapped gift, a desk clock they'd registered for, and set it on her credenza. She knew they'd be leaving soon, but if she gave the gift to them now, would it become a symbol of her betrayal—the Judas kiss if Ian pressed charges?