by Vicki Hinze
“See?” Tim flipped a hand toward Mark. “I told you.” Tim turned to Joe. “I just told Mark that.” Something burned hot in Tim’s stomach, crawled up his neck and stung his eyes. Bitterness. She’d promised, no secrets. “What do you think it is?”
“Been thinking about it.” Joe stuffed a hand into his jeans’ pocket. “It’s got to be about her mother’s death. She says only she and Travest interacted with her. Mandy didn’t kill her mother, so maybe she’s worried Travest did.”
“That’s logical,” Mark said. “And I can certainly see her not wanting to go there in her own head, much less be eager to plant the thought in ours.”
“She wouldn’t want to go there. She’d hate it.” Tim agreed, thoughtful. “Mandy’s always been the outsider. Not that she said so, but that kind of thing shows up in a lot of ways.”
“It does,” Joe said. “In the conference room when we were hassling Sam, she got this hungry look in her eye. It wasn’t about Sam. It was about the way we are with each other.”
“Like I said, she’s always alone and an outsider. She accepted it because it was the way it’d always been. To her, that was normal. But when she sees us, she knows what she’s been missing.”
“Her normal isn’t the normal she wants anymore.” Joe let out a staggered breath.
Tim resented her having to deal with that, too. Something fierce. She should feel loved and cherished. Every child should grow up knowing someone is on their side and putting them first. Mandy’s mother had been good to her, but she’d never put Mandy first. Well, not until she’d warned her off marrying him.
“Tim,” Mark said. “She’s got to suspect her father is Jackal. That’s got to be what’s going on with her. She’s hurting from losing her mom and things not being right between them because of him. But he is her father. Suspecting him of killing her mother couldn’t be easy to wrap her mind around, you know?”
“It would eat at her. She’d hate it.” The woman had a lot to hate in her life. Tim resented that, too.
“She seems to hate him.” Mark said.
St. Augustine spun through Tim’s mind. “I think she loves him more than we could imagine. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have the power to hurt her as much as he does.”
“That’s true. What he thought or said or did—or didn’t do—wouldn’t matter.” Joe conceded that point. “Yet we also know there’s a razor-thin line between love and hate.”
Mark rubbed at his jaw. “Lisa says girls have serious hero-worship for their dads.”
“He’s the first man they love,” Joe said. “Sure they go through hero-worship, and every man in their lives after him has to measure up to him in their eyes.”
“Mandy never got to really experience that—hero worship—if you know what I mean,” Mark said. “I’m thinking that’d make it even harder for her to stomach doubts about him toward her mother.”
“Definitely.” Tim sighed. “She begrudges what he did to her and her mother, but don’t doubt she loves the man, because I’m telling you, she does. I think she’d give her eyeteeth for him to be a doting father to her just one time.”
“Sam and Nick are checking him out,” Mark told Tim. “Joe, hit your contacts and see what you can scrounge up.”
Revealing as much about himself and his family life as his opinions, Joe nodded. “Well, we can’t be her father, but we can be doting big brothers—except for you, Tim.” Joe walked across the room to the hallway and then disappeared down it.
“What do you want me to do?” Tim asked Mark.
His gaze turned steely. “Reconsider marrying this woman.”
“What?”
“Seriously. You can’t start a marriage without trust, Tim.”
“I trust her, and I understand why she’s holding back on sharing her suspicions. She just lost her mother and Travest isn’t much of a father, but he’s all she’s got. She’s been angry at him a long time and she doesn’t want to falsely accuse the man.”
“He’s not all she’s got,” Mark said softly. “She’s got you—and us.”
“She doesn’t know that yet.” Tim countered. “Well, she knows about me, but she’s not sure if marrying me is good or crazy and she’s worried she’s going to get us all killed.”
“You believe in her.”
“Of course, I believe in her.” Tim rolled his gaze. “Would I get engaged and want to marry her if I didn’t believe in her?”
Mark let out a little hmmm . . . “One question.”
“What?”
“Did you pray on it?”
Tim knew the importance of his answer. He prayed on everything he deemed important in life. “I’ve prayed on it,” he said, and then confessed. “And I’ve prayed for her every day since the minute I decided I wanted her to be with me for the rest of my life.”
“Even during the past nine months?”
“Especially during the past nine months.” He couldn’t be sure she would be all right and have a good life. He was sure that no other man would love her like he loved her. Of course, he’d prayed for her.
“That’s that, then.” Mark clasped Tim’s shoulder. “Take her to lunch and make her believe she’s not alone anymore. She’s got all of us. That reassurance should get her to open up.”
“Sounds reasonable, provided it’s true.”
“It’s true,” Mark assured him. “So long as she isn’t Jackal.”
Not at all surprised Mark had picked up on his unstated worry, Tim clamped his jaw, let his gaze slide down from Mark’s face to his neck and on to his throat. “She isn’t Jackal.”
“Why?”
“Not ruthless enough.”
“I’m down with that. But we can’t think, we have to know,” Mark reminded Tim. “We’ve been wrong before, and we’ve paid a steep price for it. We have to be certain.”
Mark’s point hit home. They had paid a steep price for being wrong. Worse, others had paid a steep price, too. “Right.”
Being wrong on some things was just an annoyance. No big deal. Others created little messes that were a pain to clean up but they could be cleaned up. But when NINA was involved? It changed everything.
Any error then carried high odds of ending up deadly.
Chapter 8
Mandy dropped into a conference room chair and covered her tummy with her hand.
“I told you not to overeat.” Tim sat down beside her. “You need a 7-Up or something?”
“I'm fine.” She was miserable, stuffed to her eyeballs. “I should have stopped a long time before I did.”
Peggy Crane frowned at Mandy. “Stopped what? What’s wrong with you?”
“Eating.” Mandy stifled a groan. “Onion rings at Ruby’s. They’re the best I’ve had in my life.”
Tim grinned. “Mandy’s a connoisseur of onion rings, Peg.”
“Been there, done that myself, more than once.” She sent Mandy a sympathy-laced smile. “Just a friendly warning. The fried green tomatoes are even better. Best avoid them. No sense hurting yourself on them, too—and you will. I do at least once a week.”
Mandy smiled. She loved this group. They were so quick to poke at themselves and so slow to poke at anyone else. That was rare in Mandy’s life, and joyfully entertaining to watch.
“Well,” Lisa chimed in. “You’d better knock-out the sweet potato fries, too, then. Because I really believe Ruby puts something addictive in them. I don’t know what, but something.”
“Lisa has said that—every time she’s placed a second order.” Mark shared a toothy grin.
“Watch it, you.” Lisa wagged a finger at him.
“Are we late?” Sam plopped into his seat.
“I told you we were.” Nick sat down beside him. “Would you listen to me? Uh, no.”
“Cut me some slack, bud.” Sam lifted his beefy arms. “I was running a lead.”
Mark nixed the nonsense with an authoritative, “Let’s get started.”
Silence fell and Mark looked to Nick.
He picked up his cue. “I’ve run both Olivia and Charles Travest. Mandy’s right. She’s been a recluse for at least the last ten years. People know of her but don’t know a thing about her. No complaints but no insights, either. Apparently, she’s a good listener but doesn’t say much. More than one seemed shocked to realize that.”
Mandy had seen it happen time and again. “I agree and confirm.”
Nick went on. “Detective Walton said none of the neighbors had seen anyone other than Mandy come to her house. He knew nothing about Charles Travest, and not one neighbor had mentioned ever seeing him or any other man there.”
Mandy stilled. “That strikes me as odd.”
Tim looked over at her. “He came on Tuesday nights and parked in the garage, right?”
She nodded.
“Never went out into the yard. Never went on outings with you two, right?”
She nodded again, her stomach souring. “He was a ghost and didn’t exist to anyone else. I never picked up on that.”
“Kids learn what they live. It was just the way things were.” Joe shrugged. “The first time my dad showed up at school—my brother got into some trouble and my mom was in the hospital—no one believed he was really our dad. They’d never seen him before and figured we’d called in a ringer to stay out of trouble with Mom. Her, they knew well.” He grinned. “Too well. One of us was always in the office for something.”
Why hearing that made Mandy feel better, she had no idea. But it did. She smiled at Joe. “Kindred spirits.”
“Do I need to be jealous?” Tim asked, lifting an eyebrow at her.
“No, but I might claim Joe as a brother,” Mandy said. “I’ve always wanted one.”
“I’d be honored.” Joe dipped his head in a mock salute.
Mark snagged control. “Sam, what about financials?”
“Travest is set for life—a couple of lives, actually. The bulk of the money comes from an inheritance—his wife’s. He has a successful law practice. No red flags there. Everything on paper looks clear and straight. The guy looks clean.”
Mandy let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d held.
“What about Olivia?” Mark asked about Mandy’s mom.
Sam, not Nick, answered. “A little something odd going on there.”
“What do you mean?” Mandy asked.
Sam swerved his gaze to her. “She paid cash for everything.”
“Travest gave her cash. It’s all she had. She didn’t have a career of her own.”
“Did she inherit money, or what?” Sam said, clearly puzzled.
“No. Her parents died before she even started school. She was raised by an aunt—Beatrice, I think. No, it was Bertha. After college, my mother moved out on her own.”
“What about the aunt?” he asked. “Where’s she?”
“Long since passed. I never met her. She lived in Arizona somewhere, I think. I don’t even know her last name.”
“Did your mother inherit from her?”
“Maybe some debt. I don’t think there was anything else.”
Sam looked more perplexed. “Have you met anyone from your mother’s family? Ever?”
“Actually, no. I haven’t. There was just Mom and Bertha. Her mother’s sister, I think. Those weren’t easy times and Mom didn’t like to talk about them.” Mandy cocked her head. “What point are you trying to make, Sam?”
“No point,” he said. “Just trying to understand. Your mother had an impressive portfolio. I can’t find a credible source for it.”
“How impressive?” Mandy asked. “It couldn’t have been much.”
Sam’s gaze locked with Tim’s. “Thirty million in liquid assets.”
Shock streaked through Mandy. “Thirty—what?”
“Do I need to repeat it, really?”
“I don’t believe it.” Mandy looked from Sam to Tim. “She wasn’t worried about money but we didn’t live some lavish lifestyle. Where would she get that kind of money?”
“I don’t know.” Tim glanced at Mark. “But we have to find out.”
Sam stuck the tip of his pen through his curly hair, under the edge of a red-and-white bandana circling his head. “I can tell you it didn’t come from Travest. He doesn’t have that kind of money.”
“Mandy?” Tim placed his hand over hers atop the table. “Is there anyone in your past—even from when you were little—you can link to this money?”
Mandy sat stunned and at a total loss. “No. It’s always just been Mom and me and Charles Travest on Tuesdays. That’s it.”
“Did your mom’s sister maybe come into money and leave it to your mom?”
Mandy clawed through the cobwebs in her mind, back to the rare occasions when her mother had mentioned her sister. “I don’t think so, Joe. I think they struggled to keep up with regular bills. She mentioned the power being cut-off once. Like I said, I don’t think Mom had many happy memories, and she preferred not to think about them much less talk about them.”
Mark turned to Sam. “Keep digging.”
Sam nodded.
They had to be thinking exactly what Mandy was thinking. NINA money. But for what? Was that even possible?
A thought plunged into her mind and took hold. She gasped.
“What is it?” Tim asked. “Remember something?”
“No.” She made herself look at him. “Tim, do you think my mother could have been Jackal?”
“Your mother?” He shrugged, weighed the possibility. “I don’t know. Raven was a woman—a honcho in the NINA organization we brought down. I guess it’s possible. Raven didn’t seem a likely candidate, either, but . . .”
Mandy didn’t want to ask. Didn’t want to, but she had to if she ever again wanted to meet her own eyes in the mirror. “What about my father?”
“What about him?”
Mark had spoken, so Mandy reluctantly swung her gaze to him. “Could my father be Jackal?”
Mark smiled.
Mandy bristled. “Why does that amuse you, Mark?”
He ignored her and focused on Tim. “Good job at lunch.”
What did that mean? She looked at Tim. “Care to explain?”
“Later.” He promised. “I think right now we have to consider that either of them could have been Jackal—or he could be someone entirely different. Though, you need to prepare yourself. With all this money and no known source for it, a third party is looking less and less likely.
“She could have been holding it for Travest,” Nick said.
“Possible,” Mark said. “Or it could be hers.”
Mandy groaned. “I hope not.” She sought Tim's hand for comfort and reassurance. “I’ve dealt with a lot from those two. But being in a terrorist organization? I’m not sure I can take that, too.”
Tim gave her hand a gentle squeeze, but it was Mark who first responded. “You can, Mandy. We’ll help.”
“Dang right.”
“Sam!” Peggy admonished him.
Nick shrugged. “Dead from the neck up but, in this case, he’s right.”
Tim squeezed her hand. “When you can’t, we can and will, Mandy.”
“You’re one of us now.” Joe winked at her. “For better or worse.”
“Really?” Even she heard the hope in her tone. The hope and the uncertainty. The fear of believing.
“You bet.”
“Absolutely.”
“Naturally.”
“Of course.”
Overwhelmed, she wasn’t clear on who had said what, but they all had agreed. Beside herself, she felt her heart swell and her eyes fill with tears. They were bringing her into their fold. She’d belong. No longer be an outsider. Overwhelmed, she couldn’t stop the tears from falling.
Gracious as they were, every single one of them pretended not to notice.
Tim slipped her a tissue under the table. “That okay with you?”
She dabbed at her eyes. “It’s better than okay. Better than better.” She glanced to Tim, saw that his ey
es shone overly bright. He knew how much this meant to her, and why.
Just as he knew she’d protect every one of these people with everything in her. They’d taken her in, made her belong, and unlike others who took that for granted, she knew the value of it—a rare and treasured gift.
Mark cleared his throat. “Time to shift gears. Mandy, did you invite your father to the wedding?”
“Not yet.”
“Call him.”
“Now? Here?”
“Why not?” Sam asked. “Save you from repeating it all to us anyway.”
He had a point. “I don’t have—“
Four phones stretched toward her from around the table. She grabbed Tim’s. “I don’t have the number.”
“His office or home?”
“Office.” She told Nick. “Definitely.”
Nick reeled off the number, and she dialed. Her hands turned clammy.
“She’s turning green.” Sam looked to Lisa. “You see it?”
“I think now’s a good time for that 7-Up,” Peg said. “Sooner the better.”
Lisa rushed out to the center’s kitchen and returned with a can. She popped the top. It fizzed out and Lisa put the can on the table before Mandy. “It’s okay. You’re not alone anymore. No matter what he says, he can only hurt you as much as you let him.”
Mandy looked up at her, gratitude and misery at war inside, making mush of her stomach. “Unless he’s Jackal. Then he can hurt us all.”
“Whatever comes, we’ll deal with it,” Lisa promised. “Listen, he can be bad, but he can’t be any worse than Dutch Hauk.”
“Who’s he?”
“My step-father. He sold me into slavery—twice.” Lisa leveled a flat look on Mandy. “Collectively, we’ve seen and been through a lot. You’re not going to surprise anyone here with anything. We’ve seen it before and probably will again. But no matter what comes, we deal with it together and we get through it.”
“Dang righ—“
“Sam!”
Peggy, Mark, Nick and Joe all said simultaneously.
He held up both hands. “Sorry. Sorry. Okay, already. I’m sorry.”
Nick frowned. “Like I said. Dead from the neck up.”
Mandy keyed the number into the phone. Seconds later, it rang, then a woman answered. “Travest and Hudson. How may I direct your call?”
