by Lisa Harris
“Wait a minute.” He pushed himself up to a sitting position. “What are you talking about, Lindsey? What happened?”
She swallowed hard, trying to figure out where to start. The breakin? The sixty-five thousand dollars? Jamie McDonald? She decided to start at the beginning with the attempted breakin, and finish with Jamie McDonald on the surveillance tape.
By the time she was done, his eyes were wide with horror. “If anything happened to you, I’d never forgive myself.”
“I’m fine, Daddy. Really.”
“Have you called the police?”
“They’ve been out to the house. Twice. And Kyle convinced me to stay with his sister, just in case they decided to come looking at my house.”
Her father shook his head. “You should have told me about the breakins when they happened, Lindsey.”
“I tried. You had a stroke.”
“If you’d told me about the breakins, I would have listened.”
She leaned forward and caught his gaze. “How was I supposed to convince you that something was wrong when you decided to go into business with a complete stranger, sell all of Mom’s figurines, cash in your life-insurance policy and invest your entire retirement in some…some…”
Some Internet scam.
Her stomach roiled. She couldn’t bring herself to say the words out loud.
“I guess I can see how you might worry about Abraham.” He fumbled with the pillow behind him, his brow beaded with dots of perspiration. “I didn’t know him. I never really understood where he got my name.”
Lindsey paused. Was he admitting that at least he suspected he’d never see any money from Mr. Omah? “It’s all related, isn’t it? The life-insurance check. The money in the spare tire. Jamie McDonald.”
He stared out the window, nodding. A pigeon perched on the windowsill, its iridescent gray-and-purple feathers shining in the early-afternoon sun. The bird flapped its wings and flew away. Her father watched as if he wished he could fly away and leave all this behind. She could certainly understand the feeling.
“I cashed in the life-insurance policy because I needed the money to pay back what I’d borrowed to pay Abraham,” he finally admitted.
Except for the steady pulse of the heart monitor and a voice drifting in from outside, the room became quiet.
But she wasn’t ready to stop yet. “So you borrowed money to pay Abraham and then when Abraham didn’t pay up, you were stuck with another debt?”
“I don’t owe Abraham anything. It’s a slam-dunk business deal. And he will give me my share.” His jaw tightened in anger. “Lawyer fees. Absentee-collector fees. Tax fees. You wouldn’t believe these government officials we’re dealing with. Every time we take a step forward they slap us with these ridiculous fees.”
Lindsey swallowed hard. “And it’s never crossed your mind that Abraham might be pocketing those fees?”
“How could you even think that? How can you continue to insist that Abraham is some low-class crook?”
Because he is!
His pulse quickened on the monitor and Lindsey knew she had to back off, away from Abraham, on to a hopefully less painful question. “What about McDonald?” she prodded carefully. “How’d you meet him?”
“McDonald met me at the bank to pick up the money. That was it. There was nothing sinister about the situation at all.”
“Except when he decided to get the cash on his own.”
“You don’t have any proof that Jamie was responsible for the breakins, so you can’t blame him. It could easily be a coincidence. Crime is up.” Her father sounded if he was trying to convince himself as much as her. “Besides, he was just doing his job.”
“Who does Jamie work for, Daddy?”
Her father avoided her gaze. “You worry too much.”
“So that’s it. Just like with Abraham, it’s still none of my business.”
“All Abraham asked me to do was let him transfer money into my account so his corrupt government didn’t confiscate it. Since when is that a crime?”
“He took your life savings, Daddy.”
He continued staring at the bed, avoiding her gaze. “All I’ve ever wanted was to make sure you were okay. To take care of you, and your mother before she died. I…I thought I could fix what was wrong with her. You have to believe that, pumpkin. And now…if anything were to happen to you…”
Lindsey’s heart was breaking as he confessed. “Mama dying wasn’t your fault.”
“All we needed was a few more months.” He clawed at the sheet, pulling it into a wrinkled ball between his fingers. “There were other alternative treatments that might have worked.”
“No, Daddy. It was her time. God was ready to take her home. And she was ready to go.”
Lindsey shook her head, wishing her father could let go of the heavy guilt he’d carried with him since her mother’s death. He had done everything he could for her mother. No one could fault him on that. He’d loved her for forty years. Letting go was hard. But how could she get him to understand that in order to go on with his life that was exactly what he had to do? Let go of her. Not forget her—neither of them would ever do that. But the spiral of depression her death had triggered was dangerous. For both of them.
She tried to justify her father’s actions. Sometimes forgiving oneself was harder than forgiving someone else. Did he really blame himself for his mother’s death? Why? Because he hadn’t been able to do enough? Because he hadn’t been able to save her?
Kyle had blamed himself for his brother’s death. She’d blamed herself for not discovering the mess her father had gotten into before he’d sent Abraham that first dime. But the truth was, neither of them could change the past. No one could.
So where did she go from here?
“Where’s the money, Lindsey?”
Her father’s question yanked her away from her thoughts. She blinked. “The money?”
“The insurance money.” The gentleness in his voice had faded.
“Back in the bank where it belongs.”
He shook his head. “I have to give Jamie the money.”
“And what about Abraham?”
“I’ll worry about that. I told you I would.”
Tears filled her eyes. They were going in circles again.
She pushed herself up from the chair—she had to get away for a minute before she said something she’d regret. “I’ll be back.”
She escaped into the bathroom and pushed the large wooden door shut behind her. Bracing her hands against the sink, she stared into the bathroom mirror. Her mother’s eyes looked back at her. Brown with dark rims. Long lashes. Strong, yet vulnerable at times.
God, I miss her, too. So much.
She missed her sense of humor. Missed her sage advice. Missed eating dinner together as a family, and playing board games past midnight until none of them could stay awake.
If only this were a three-hour game of Monopoly where she could pay fifty dollars to get out of jail, or pass go to collect two hundred dollars. But it wasn’t. She didn’t know anything about this game. Except that she didn’t want to play anymore.
Kyle worked to focus on his laptop’s screen. With today’s stringent liability laws, if something went wrong, the corporation and its stockholders could be harmed. Which was a situation to be avoided at all costs. The bottom line was that there could be no mistakes in his work. His full evaluations included in-depth research and cross-references far beyond the scope of Google. And it all had to be done not only discreetly, but within the boundaries of privacy laws. That’s why he’d spent the past ten-plus years ensuring he knew the science of due diligence and contract language like the back of his hand.
But the words on his screen kept blurring together because all he could see clearly at the moment was Lindsey.
Closing his eyes only made her image sharper. This was a habit he was going to have to break if he was ever going to get any work done. Although he wasn’t so sure he wanted to break it.
She’d
looked up at him when he’d dropped her off at the hospital. Chin set at a determined angle. Lips pressed together like a soldier marching off to war. He’d wanted to play hero in that moment, scooping her up in his arms and tell her to forget everything that had happened the past few days.
Yep. He was falling for her. Hard.
Wait a minute. He’d worked long and hard to ensure that his company could outperform the competition—he couldn’t now turn around and make a fatal mistake because a pretty girl had walked into his life. Not that he didn’t want a wife and a home someday, but he tended to look at life efficiently, logically. There wasn’t room for a wife and a home right now. But there was Lindsey.
He rolled his chair back from the table he was using as a desk and grabbed his coffee cup from the counter behind him. He took a sip. Ugh. Lukewarm.
His cell phone rang. He picked it up on the second ring. Caller ID identified his partner was checking in.
“Hey, Matt.”
“You sound distracted.”
“Just took a sip of cold coffee.”
“Yuck.”
“That’s what I thought.” Matt couldn’t pass by a gourmet coffee shop without stopping. He understood the disappointment of cold coffee.
“Any holes in the report I sent you?” Matt asked.
“Not yet.” Kyle didn’t feel the need to mention he’d read the first page a dozen times before processing a single word. Honey-colored hair was on his mind again. This really wasn’t good.
“Then I’m already two for two, and it’s not even lunchtime.”
“Two for two?” Kyle said, confused.
“I think I found the connection between Jamie McDonald and Lindsey’s father.”
“Really?”
“Jamie McDonald works for Vincent Lambert, who just happened to serve with George Taylor in the same squadron some forty-odd years ago. It could be just a coincidence.”
Kyle let out a low whistle. “I don’t think so.”
“So you know the guy?”
“No, but Lindsey’s father does. And apparently they’ve stayed in touch throughout the years. Vincent called last Saturday morning, claiming they were supposed to have met for breakfast, but George never showed.”
“Claiming?”
“The call sounded legit at the time, but with sixty-five grand at stake and a connection to Jamie, I’m beginning to have my doubts. More than likely, Jamie’s nothing more than an errand boy for his boss.”
“So what’s the next step?”
Another piece of the puzzle had just fallen into place. “Listen to this. Vincent invited Lindsey to some charity event at his house tomorrow night.”
“Looks as if you’ve just found the perfect setting to pull together a bit of firsthand info on the man.”
Kyle smiled. His thoughts exactly. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked forward to a job-related social event. Too bad he’d had to return his tux last weekend.
“Seems like Lindsey and I are going to a party tomorrow night.”
FIFTEEN
If it wasn’t for the fact that they were at the Texas Liberty Charter School fund-raiser to scope out Vincent Lambert, Lindsey would have found the atmosphere perfect. Perfect enough to make her wish she could call this a date. But as romantic as the ambience might be, this was definitely not a date. Kyle looked fantastic though in his black tux. The guy really knew how to dress when the occasion called for it.
Little expense had been spared to turn the elaborate gardens into an elegant night for charity under the stars. A small band played music with a Latino beat in the background. Two long buffet tables, running along the covered stone patio, were laden with everything from quesadillas and carved roast beef and turkey, to colorful fruit bowls and mouthwatering cheesecake. The enormous, two-story house, located in a wealthy suburb of North Dallas, added to the stylish setting. Whatever Mr. Lambert did for a living, he must do it well.
Lindsey’s stomach grumbled as she placed a couple of chocolate-covered strawberries on her full plate. She might as well enjoy herself while she was here. She added an irresistible slice of cheesecake and then focused on balancing her plate, drink and purse as she followed Kyle down a paved walkway toward one of the many tables. It wouldn’t be completely dark for another couple of hours, but already strings of white lights lit up the patio and a dozen of the trees in the spacious backyard. Beyond the green lawns, a lake sparkled in the distance, its boat ramp adding even more value to the high-priced property.
Kyle chose one of the smaller tables for two at the far edge of the pool. They sat down, close enough to be able to observe the guests, but far away enough to ensure a bit of privacy. Which was exactly what she wanted at the moment. From here she could observe their host mingling with his guests while they decided on their game plan.
Her mouth watered as she bit into a juicy strawberry. “Tell me everything you know about Vincent Lambert.”
Kyle grinned at her. “If I don’t, will you dump cake on my shirt?”
“Ha-ha, very funny,” she said, cringing at the memory of chocolate frosting on his white tuxedo shirt. “Come on.”
“Okay. Here’s what I found out about him. After graduating from high school, he went straight into the army and served four years in the same battalion as your father. When his time was up, instead of reenlisting, he moved to Dallas, where he married Rachel Prim and started working for his father’s contracting company. Edward Lambert died six years later, leaving the entire business to him.” Kyle glanced up from his notes. “Apparently, the man has a bit of the Midas touch. Anything he puts his hands on turns out a nice profit. Let’s see.” His gaze dropped back to the notebook. “Divorced ten years later with two kids still in elementary school. He married Priscilla Maxwell, with whom it’s reported he’d been having an affair, but the marriage only lasted seven months.”
“Now, that’s really sad.”
“I agree. Five years ago, he married his current wife, who happens to be fifteen years younger than him. She has a daughter from a previous marriage who is currently enrolled at Harvard.”
“With stepdaddy picking up the bill?”
He flipped the notebook shut, then tapped on the cover. “That I don’t know for sure, though it does seem likely.”
“So, barring his failed marriages, he seems to be quite the model citizen.” She waved her hand toward the dozens of partygoers who seemed to be enjoying themselves. “Including hosting charity events.”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to call him a model citizen.” Kyle brushed the notebook against his leg. “Five years ago he was investigated for attempted fraud. Nothing was proved, so the case was dropped, but now there seems to be financial doom hovering on the horizon.”
Lindsey leaned forward. “Really?”
“Most of what I found out were rumors, but some of them came from pretty trustworthy sources. Mr. Lambert seems to be losing his touch. About four months ago, he was sued and he lost. Since then, he’s laid off almost thirty percent of his employees.”
“Wow. Sounds pretty serious.”
“It is. And while sixty-five thousand dollars might seem small in the light of a huge company, if he’s cash-strapped, he’s not going to be in the mood to extend a personal loan.”
Lindsey organized everything in her mind. In Vincent Lambert they had a suspect, a motivation and a possible link to the crime all wrapped up in one package. Now all they had to do was prove it.
“It seems like the perfect time to search the man’s office for a link to my father—”
“Whoa.” Kyle held up his hand, shaking his head adamantly. “Slow down. First of all, I’m no P.I., and even if I was, that wouldn’t exactly be legal.”
She frowned. He might be right, but she refused to sit around and do nothing. “So this is it? We stuff ourselves with hors d’oeuvres and dessert and then leave?”
“It could be worse.” He shot her a grin. “The food is fantastic. There’s romantic music in the
air. I’ve got a beautiful woman beside me.”
“Kyle.”
“Seriously. Give people a couple hours of good food and alcohol, and it’s amazing what you are able to pick up.”
“That’s a plan I can work with.”
“But enough about Mr. Lambert for now.” Kyle took a sip of his lemonade while gazing at her with his deep blue eyes. “We have all evening to study the man firsthand. In the meantime, I have a question that’s been puzzling me for a while.”
“Okay.” Lindsey’s stomach fluttered.
“You’re single, intelligent and beautiful, but there doesn’t seem to be a Romeo in your life. If there were, I’d insist you dump him because he certainly hasn’t played the role of valiant hero this past week.”
“A chauvinistic remark?”
“Not at all. I just think you deserve someone who will go out on a limb to ensure you’re okay.”
She sat back, surprised at the directness. Always a bridesmaid, never a bride… No. She wasn’t going there again. But was he asking because he was interested, or because he felt sorry for her?
She cleared her throat. “What can I say? Romeo was always highly overrated in my opinion. The whole dying-for-love thing turns me off. One can’t exactly savor bliss while dead.”
Kyle laughed. “Touché. But you still didn’t answer my question.”
“At the moment? No. There is no Romeo, or Prince Charming, or any other fairy-tale character at my side.”
Though you, Kyle Walker, certainly could pass for a knight in shining armor.
“Ah…at the moment.” He cocked his head, eyes twinkling. “So that means there has been someone…or maybe there’s someone specific you’re hoping for a relationship with?”
She grabbed a square of cheese and stuffed it in her mouth, wondering if he could read her mind. Her thoughts were filled with far too many daydreams about him lately.
She swallowed. “I’ve dated a few people, but nothing ever became serious. My mom got sick, I left school, and now there’s my father. I don’t know. There always seems to be someone else to care for.” It was time to turn the tables. Quickly. “What about you? Any woman waiting for you to return home?”
