“What?”
“Annabelle brought Michelle along to meet them for lunch one afternoon. It seems her parents warned Annabelle the woman seemed a little unbalanced. Annabelle defended the woman by telling them Michelle was a little eccentric, which was an understatement.”
Skye kissed his hair, ran her hands along his back. “Sometimes we overlook the obvious because we’re too close to a person to see, really see, their major faults. I’d say Michelle played Annabelle like she played everyone else. I would bet Annabelle had no idea Michelle had a thing for you. Or if she did, she thought it was kinda cute or probably no big deal. Whatever it was, Michelle had a lot of people snowed.”
“Sad to say, I fall into that category. I thought the woman was harmless.” He took hold of Skye’s chin, circled her mouth with his finger. “I guess our day spent in bed will have to wait. I have to let my parents know, too. One more phone call.”
“Do what you have to. I’ve got some work to do anyway. I want to go through my list of missing girls one more time, see if I can come up with a link.”
“Use my laptop,” he offered. “Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll help you.”
She watched as he reluctantly picked the phone up again, knowing his heart wasn’t really into making the call.
Later as they lay in bed, after they’d made love, Josh asked, “Okay. Something’s been bothering you since this morning when Michelle pulled her Fatal Attraction stunt? What is it? Level with me.”
She sat up, looked long and hard into his face. She’d already made her decision to test their growing intimacy by dipping her toe in unbelievable, fanciful legends. If he balked at knowing, then she’d have her answer to that as well.
But if Josh could be upfront with her about the chapter in his life that covered Michelle, an embarrassing episode for him to be sure, then she could return the favor. Although it hardly seemed like a fair trade comparing a psycho stalker bitch to a beautiful silver wolf with violet eyes named Kiya, Skye had already decided to open up. After all, Josh had claimed to see the wolf himself, something no other person had ever done, not even her parents. Kiya seemed to think that was significant. Skye had to follow her instincts because everything inside said she needed to trust Josh enough to share.
“It’s true. Something’s bothering me all right. I’m just not sure how you’re going to react when I tell you.”
A knot of fear tightened his gut. “Just rip off the Band-Aid, quick and fast.”
“The night you saw the white Australian shepherd—”
“You mean the silver wolf with eyes that match yours? Yeah, I might have been running a high fever but I know what I saw and heard. Others have seen a wolf matching that description, too.”
She inhaled deeply, let it out so she could go on. It was his trusting eyes that kept her from chickening out. “What you heard was...you were right about the Nez Perce legend, about the spirit guide, about all of it. My father’s spirit guide was a hawk named Deata.”
“Dee-ah-tay,” Josh repeated sounding out each syllable. “Tell me all of it. When did you first see yours?”
“I was three or four I guess. It’s my first real memory. I was standing in the backyard picking flowers in my mother’s garden. Yellow daisies. This dog came up out of nowhere. One minute it was empty space. Then the next, she just walked right up to me. At least that’s what I thought it was at the time, a dog. It came over to me and licked my hand. I knew her name then, saw that her spirit matched mine. I don’t know how I knew at such an early age, I just—knew.”
“The wolf is a hunter. But the legend says it happens during the time when a young person comes into his or her own, adolescence. Surely you couldn’t have been—”
She shook her head. “It’s different for everyone, not a hard and fast rule. Like me, my father first saw his spirit guide at a young age, four or five, while Travis didn’t see his until just after his tenth birthday.”
“Travis? The guy that owns the gym knows about your wolf?”
She shook her head. “No one knows. You’re the first.” She smiled and ran her hands through his hair. “On so many levels, you’re the first for me, Josh.”
He brought her hand to his lips, placed a kiss on the palm. “Sounds like the age thing might run in the family. So what’s your wolf’s name?”
“Kiya.”
“Kee-ya,” Josh repeated. “That explains a lot.” And would account for Kiya’s presence the day Skye had gotten away from Whitfield at the young age of twelve. But then, so much more made sense. A light dawned. “Kiya leads you to the girls. Kiya is how you know Jenna Donofrio isn’t coming home? Kiya is how you got away from Ronny Wayne.” It wasn’t a question. “Exactly how close had you been to Kiya before…your abduction…that day…in the park?”
“Not very. Of course I regretted that later. If I had spent those eight years from four to twelve connecting with her on a bigger scale I would’ve known, I would’ve listened. But that day, I remember hearing this voice inside my head. It kept saying, ‘don’t go’ over and over again before I went running after that damn soccer ball. ‘Don’t go’ it said. Kiya was trying to warn me. But of course, I didn’t listen. There on the other side of the hedges was a blond-haired man telling me he had this little girl who wanted to play with the others but was too shy to join in on her own. Would I go to the car and talk to her about joining the game? I said sure. That’s the last thing I remember before waking up in his bedroom…terrified…because I was tied up.”
Josh squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to do this, Skye, not for me.”
“No, I don’t. But the point is those bastards will use any lie to gain a kid’s trust. That’s what they do. And when the ruse or the story doesn’t work, they’ll snatch them anyway, right off the street. When grabbing them won’t work for some reason, maybe because there’s a crowd or too many people around, they’ll break into houses. Take them right out the fucking front door in the middle of the night.”
“That’s what makes them monsters.” He pulled her closer. “So that’s it? That’s what was bothering you, weighing you down? You wanted to finally tell me about your spirit guide?”
“It’s a huge deal for me. I don’t want people thinking I’m some kind of freak, least of all the person I’m sharing a bed with. But I figure since you’d already read about the custom and didn’t seem spooked by it—”
“I don’t think you’re a freak. I’m glad you thought enough of me to finally share it though. I’d figured out most of it the day I looked it up. I just wanted you to tell me.”
“Is that why you look so relieved?”
“I was convinced that something about me sleeping with Michelle only eight months after I lost Annabelle had turned you off for some reason, disgusted you. I thought you were ready to walk.”
She stroked a finger down his jaw. “Josh, you were lonely. I know something about being alone. There’s no set rule on grief and everyone handles the process differently. I spent years without having anyone to talk to. Besides, it’d take a lot more than that psycho bitch Michelle Reardon to make me walk. I’m stronger than that.”
“Yes, you certainly are.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Training with the woman you were sleeping with might not have been the smartest thing Josh had ever suggested. And “training” was stretching it. A more descriptive term might’ve been “crash dummy” more specifically, Skye’s personal crash dummy.
They made a habit of meeting during the lunch hour in the dingy gym to work out. But he was getting his ass kicked on a regular basis by an athletic woman who fought like a fiend even when the entire exercise was supposed to be practice. He was pretty sure Skye didn’t recognize it as such.
Skye pivoted, used her body to throw Josh off balance. He went down hard on his butt again hitting the indoor/outdoor, non-padded carpet with a thud.
“I don’t know why I bother, I spend more time on my backside than I do upright,” Josh grumbled as
he got to his feet to circle her again.
With the back of her hand she mopped at her brow, went into a low crouch before sweeping out her feet once more to take him down a second time.
“That’s because you’re holding back, which isn’t doing either one of us any good. Now try to really attack me this time.”
When Josh approached her from behind, the minute he put his hands on her, she flipped him neatly over her shoulder. He met the carpet for the hat trick. “How exactly is this teaching me to fight as well as you?” Josh asked from his position on the floor.
She picked up a bottle of water, glugged down half of it before handing off the rest to him. “You’ve got a point. We’ll practice your form then, go through the blocks and kicks until you can do them in your sleep. Didn’t you ever take karate at some point as a kid?”
“No. I was a nerd even then. I preferred to talk my way out of a situation.”
Skye guffawed. “I’ll try that next time I come upon three guys that want to stick you and take your money.”
“It was four and I was sloshed. How many other people got robbed that night in urban Seattle near a pub? I couldn’t have been the only one.”
She drilled a finger into his chest. “You weren’t…robbed.”
He caught the jabbing finger. “Thanks to you.”
“We’re on the same side here, Josh. I knew this was a bad idea. I have a hard time easing off. It’s one of those things that came out in the psych evaluation. I’m too aggressive and we’re getting on each other’s last nerve.”
“Then I guess we’re done for the day. I have to shower anyway and head back to work. I have a meeting with marketing. Besides, there are few things we need to go over.” He checked his watch. “How about you stop in later, say around three? I’ll be done by then.”
She tilted her head to study his face. “What’s up?”
“I said I’d find Whitfield for you and I intend to do just that. I have a line on the guy.” He raised a hand. “Don’t get your hopes up, not yet, anyway. It’s a lead, nothing concrete…yet. But I’ve been working on something.”
Curious, she ran her hand through his drenched hair, wrapped her arms around him from the back and placed a kiss on his sweaty neck. “Have I told you lately that I find you exceptionally hot when you work out?”
He felt her firm breasts press up against his back. “Keep that up and it’ll get you a nooner. And I’m not telling you what I’ve been working on here. I need to show you.”
She sighed and settled for kissing his ear. “That’s mean.”
He spun her around and patted her butt. “If I didn’t have a meeting I’d take you right here.”
“Hmm, I guess there’s not a single perk to owning the company. It’s a damned shame you couldn’t be a little late.”
He was picking up some bad business habits since he’d met her. But what the hell. Being on time was highly overrated, especially since those firm breasts were already pressing against him.
Josh kept eight people waiting in the conference room for twenty minutes, one of which was Todd Graham.
After spending the obligatory ninety minutes going over brands and strategies with each of his department heads, Josh noticed Todd hanging back when everyone else began making their way back to their cubes. “Something on your mind?” Josh asked.
“What’s up with you lately?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Sure you do. You never once mentioned anything about Michelle even though every one of us in the office knew she’d tipped over the edge sometime last Christmas.”
“Really? You knew she was crazy? You might’ve said something.”
Todd shook his head. “Crazy is subjective. People have called me worse. But Michelle was shooting out all kinds of signs that no one paid any attention to, least of all you. And now—”
Josh cocked a brow. “Go on.”
“You seem to be involved in something with someone that’s very intense…very serious.”
“Which is none of your business.”
“See, that right there is the very reason I kept my mouth shut about fruitcake Michelle. I thought okay, Josh knows best, he always knows what he’s doing. He knows trends, sales and pricing, graphics, was the first one in the industry to offer 3D graphics, but let’s face it…when it comes to women...Josh Ander has a tendency to think with his dick.”
Josh found himself grinding his jaw. “Are you sure we’re discussing me now? You’re the one who married some woman you’d known for less than sixty days that you met inside a strip club—ended up getting served divorce papers five months later after you found out she was banging the limo driver that had picked you two up at the airport coming back from Fiji—where you’d spent your honeymoon.”
Todd stuck his hands in his pockets and jingled his change. He was always jingling something. “Look, after what happened with Michelle, I don’t want to see you get hurt. You’re like a brother to me. You know I’d do anything for you. And yeah, Angie did a number on me. That’s why I don’t want to see the same thing happen to you.”
Josh took a breath, slapped Todd on the back. “I appreciate the brotherly concern, but I’ve got it handled.”
Todd shook his head. “Then it’s worse than I thought. That’s what they all say right before they take that plunge off the cliff without the parachute or safety net.”
At five minutes to three, Skye made her way past security that would have made most banks envious and strolled into a ritzy reception area.
Things were obviously popping at Ander All Games. Everyone Skye passed seemed bent on crunch time and meeting deadlines, not to mention fixing broken code. But they all seemed to be intent on one thing, coming up with better and grander adventures on Mars.
Without much of a wait, Josh’s secretary, a middle-aged woman named Kendra, ushered Skye into a plush corner office where Josh sat behind a modern chrome and glass desk. He didn’t look like the same man who had waged a faux attack on her earlier in the gym or the one who’d shown her his own personal kind of adventure six blocks from this very spot. She was pretty sure he hadn’t taken her to Mars but she did feel like she’d left earth a couple of times.
In fact, Josh Ander looked exactly like what he was, a sexy geek that had found his place in the business world and ruled his domain with a savvy eye toward the bottom line.
When he glanced up and grinned, her silly heart did another Gage Martin flip in her chest. Only this time it was about a hundred times more potent than ninth grade. “You clean up nice, Ander. But I think I like you better sweaty.”
“Funny, I was about to say the same thing about you.” He rose, closing the distance between them and pushed his office door shut. He picked up a strand of her hair, pushed it behind her ear, pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was a tender mating, a gentle brush that all but lit a furnace. Hot and steady the flame built. “If we were alone I’d say we take advantage of the desk.”
Her eyes went wide. “The desk? Right here?”
His mouth arched up. “Maybe later after everyone goes home for the night.”
“Come on, don’t keep me in suspense.”
“Right to business. Okay, if you’re correct and Whitfield is the one behind the sex-trafficking in the area, then he has to have a way to get Internet access in order to keep his business running. That’s crucial.”
“Why is that significant? He could be using anyone’s name. He may have access but the account could be set up with a fake ID. In fact, they probably are. He would use the name of a relative in a heartbeat.” But it was a good angle she hadn’t thought to pursue.
He sat back down at his desk and laptop. “It’s significant because he has to pay a carrier for service and if he does, we can track the billing. True, he might be using a phony account, but there can’t be that many accounts near the Tacoma property. It’s a process of—”
“Elimination. You’re good at this.” She leaned on the corner of his d
esk, peered over his shoulder as he tapped keys in fast strokes.
“I like to solve puzzles. And this one’s been bugging me since we met.” He continued to talk while his fingers flew. “You have to have a social when you request service, any utility service—whether it’s setting up your water, gas, or cable—asks for a social security number. While the info you provide to them might be phony it still leaves a record. There are a number of ways to crack the system.” He turned the laptop around so she could check out the screen for herself. “And voila, this is exactly what I’m talking about. See?”
Could it be that simple, she wondered? Glancing at the records, she saw a list of not one account, but several using the same social in the same zip code as the Whitfield property where the felon was supposed to be living. “What is it I’m looking at?”
“Every utility account that uses the same social within that same zip code. There aren’t that many because it’s a rural area, not that populated. After you narrow it down to the social, after I got this far, I cross-referenced the aunt and uncle and came up with eight accounts. Interestingly enough, none of them provide a listed service to the trailer, at all, which means it’s probably unoccupied. But a satellite view of the area shows a cabin not mentioned in Whitfield’s official state parole file. I’m sure the parole board would find that in violation.” He tapped more keys and brought the image up on the screen.
“That means the other accounts—”
“Match the cabin on the same Whitfield property.”
“Why eight?”
“One for each kind of service they requested for that social security number. You’ve got electric, gas, water, high-speed Internet and cable, satellite, telephone, and even the bill for sewer service.”
“Josh, that’s brilliant!” She got up and started pacing his office. “Maybe now might be a good time to mention that since Brandon Hiller left prison several girls have gone missing in the surrounding area of Seattle, which when you think about it, would make sense if Hiller is one of Whitfield’s underlings.”
The Bones of Others Page 21
