by Barbara Gee
“After that we stopped turning down the volume on the GPS,” Maddy said. “We realized she’s our friend and we need her.”
“And we named her Sally,” Libby said, “after one of my bossy high school friends.”
“Any chance you two know the way to Tuck’s office, or do we need to fire Sally up right now?”
“Oh we know the way,” Maddy assured him.
“And even if we didn’t, Maddy’s like a homing pigeon where Tuck is concerned. She could find him no matter what.”
Her friend sighed blissfully. “Guilty as charged. He is my other half, after all.”
Libby looked at Ryan and rolled her eyes dramatically, making sure Maddy saw it. She did and laughed unapologetically.
“Don’t judge, Lib. Don’t judge.”
Ryan listened to their lighthearted banter, glad they had wanted to come along. His stomach felt like a block of lead, and his teeth actually hurt from clenching his jaw all morning. Nothing like two sweet, funny girls to ease his worry for a little while.
Tuck called when they were halfway there to let them know the attorney had landed at the Fargo airport and one of Tuck’s fellow agents was on the way to get him. Ryan felt an enormous relief. It would have been devastating to wait these two final days and then have the guy be a no-show.
Libby reached over and squeezed his arm. “Not long now, Ryan,” she said softly.
He flipped his hand and held it out to her, palm up. She readily took it and he intertwined their fingers, holding on tighter than he probably should, but he needed the contact.
“I just wish I had some idea of what he has for me.”
“Whatever it is, I hope it solves all the mysteries and lets you get your life back. Oh, and take a left at the next intersection.”
“Thanks, Sally.”
Her quick smile and her hand in his calmed him. For now at least, he’d accept the comfort she brought. Lord knew he needed it.
When they arrived at the field office, Tuck met them and made a few introductions before taking them to his office, where he had five folding chairs arranged. “They should be here any minute. You all want any water or coffee?”
Maddy and Libby declined but Ryan accepted a bottle of water, more to keep his hands busy than because he was thirsty. A few minutes later a guy in a suit stuck his head in the door.
“He’s out in the lobby, Tuck,” he said.
“Thanks, Greg. I’ll go get him.” The other agent left and Tuck looked at Ryan. “You ready for this?” he asked
Ryan tried to hide his apprehension, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t fooling anyone. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
“Be right back,” Tuck said.
The girls sat while Ryan paced nervously. Tuck soon returned with another man.
“Patrick Holden, this is Ryan Anderson, the man you’re here to see. And this is my wife, Maddy, and my sister, Libby. We’re all close friends of Ryan, and he asked us to be here with him today.”
Ryan stepped up and shook the man’s hand, then Maddy and Libby followed suit.
“Thank you for coming. I hope the trip went okay.” Ryan looked at the man carefully, not missing any details. He was on the short side, mid-thirties, his khaki pants, blue oxford shirt and navy blazer a little rumpled from the long flight. He carried a briefcase, but nothing else. His dark hair was cut short, his face clean shaven. All in all, he looked exactly like a traveling attorney would be expected to look.
“The trip was fine. Long, but fine. I’m glad to finally get the chance to meet you.”
“Can we get a little more information on you now?” Ryan wondered.
“Certainly. As Agent Simon said, I’m Patrick Holden. I practice family law at a large firm in Charlotte.” He carried his briefcase over to the desk. “May I?” he asked Tuck before setting it down on the desktop.
“Please,” Tuck replied.
Patrick laid the briefcase on the desk and opened it while the others sat down. He joined them a moment later. “Here’s my card, and a brochure for our firm. Just so you know I’m legit.”
Ryan studied it, like any good cop would, then nodded. “Thanks, Mr. Holden. Do you mind if I get right to one of the questions I’ve had ever since you called?”
“Call me Patrick, and not at all. Ask away.”
“You said your colleague was killed because of whatever it is you have for me. If that’s the case, why haven’t the cops asked to talk to me?”
Patrick looked a little sheepish, but also determined. “When I initially spoke to the police about my suspicions, I didn’t know about you. I was suspicious about Stuart’s death, and I was pretty sure one of his clients was involved, but the police said I hadn’t given them enough to open a case. The only thing I had to go on is a while back Stuart told me he was working on a case involving a huge trust fund that could get real ugly if the woman’s husband found out about it. Then a few weeks later, he told me that the woman called to warn him that her husband knew about the money, but she assured Stuart that he didn’t know she was working with him. Stuart was sweating a little bit about it, but we often get caught in the middle in these kinds of cases, and nothing much usually comes out of it.”
“Was his mention of that call the only reason you think this particular case was the one that got him killed?”
“No. The night he died, he sent me a text when he was leaving the office. It said, and this is word for word, ‘I think I’m being followed. That case I told you about might be why.’ Unfortunately, I didn’t see the text until a couple hours after he sent it, and by then he was already dead.”
“Did you tell the police about the text?” Ryan asked.
“Of course. I showed them the actual text. They said it could be referring to any case we’d ever talked about, but I knew it wasn’t. I needed more, and the natural first step was to start going through Stuart’s active files to find mention of a big secret trust fund. I spent days looking through those files, and couldn’t find a single one that fit his description. Not even close.”
“So how am I involved in this?” Ryan asked. “I’m pretty sure I don’t have a rich relative setting up a trust fund for me.”
“I have since located the file. In a very unexpected way, I might add.” Patrick folded his arms, his expression grim. “Stuart and I have memberships at the same gym. He was very faithful at going, whereas I only went about once a week. I didn’t go at all the week after he died, and when I finally did get back there, one of the attendants flagged me down and took me over to the desk in the foyer. She opened a drawer and took out an envelope with my name on it, written in Stuart’s handwriting. She said he told her to give it to me, and only me, if he ever went more than a week without coming to the gym. He had a date written on the envelope. It was five days before he died.”
“And the note led you to the file?” Ryan guessed.
“It was in his gym locker. He had authorized access for me, and the attendant unlocked it, and there was the file, just as Stuart’s note said.”
“I assume you took it to the police?”
At this question, Patrick’s expression became defiant. “No, I haven’t said a word to them about it. When I dug into the file and saw your name, I researched you right away. When I saw that you’re a cop yourself, I decided I’d wait and give you all the information I had, and then let you take it up with the police. If I took it in, my name goes to the top of the murderer’s radar, because then he knows that I know what he’s been trying to keep hidden. I’m willing to take a certain amount of risk to make sure Stuart didn’t die in vain and to make sure his client’s wishes are carried out, as evidenced by me being here right now. But I’m not willing to die for it. I have a family who needs me, and they are my top priority.”
Ryan folded his arms and looked around at the others before fixing his gaze once again on the attorney. “Well then, I guess we might as well get to it. What do you have for me?”
Patrick went back to his briefcase. He too
k out a large envelope, but didn’t hand it to Ryan just yet. “I don’t doubt who you are, not really, but the person who left this letter with Stuart wanted to make sure it went only to you. It was to be sent by certified mail to your proven address, if possible. Failing that, it was to be handed over to you in person, as long as you can prove your identity by answering a question correctly. If you know the answer, this envelope is yours.”
“Ask away,” Ryan urged him.
The attorney cleared his throat. “What did you name the stray cat who used to hang out in the alley between the library and the convenience store in the town you grew up in?”
Ryan froze, aware of nothing but the man standing in front of him. He realized that one of his many questions had just been answered; he now knew which of his acquaintances was involved in this mess.
“So this has something to do with Eve Tamblyn?” he asked harshly.
The attorney’s expression didn’t change. “The name of the cat?” he prompted.
Ryan swallowed, his throat clogged by a host of memories he’d kept buried for a very long time. “Dragon,” he said finally, his voice gruff.
Patrick nodded. “Dragon it is.” He handed Ryan the envelope.
“Do you know what the letter says?” Ryan asked, not quite ready to reach inside.
“Yes, it was loose in the file. Eve actually wrote the letter several months before it got to Stuart. From what I can gather from his notes, she had it sealed in an envelope that was addressed to him, and her parents were instructed to mail the letter to Stuart either when she became incapacitated from her illness, or upon her death. He wrote the date of its receipt in the top corner, for reference purposes. He received the letter four days before Eve passed. Her instructions were that he get the letter to you as soon as possible after her death. Unfortunately, Stuart didn’t have a chance to do that. He was killed the day after Eve died. I doubt he had even heard about her death before he was gone himself.”
Ryan’s grip on the envelope went slack and he almost dropped it as the man’s words registered.
“So Eve is…..dead?”
Patrick looked surprised, then chagrined. “Oh, er, yes, I’m afraid so. She had a long battle with cancer. Read the letter. She explains everything far better than I’d be able to.”
Ryan just sat there, trying to imagine the vibrant girl he’d known so well succumbing to cancer at such a young age.
***
Libby couldn’t stand it. She couldn’t stand seeing Ryan sitting there looking so shocked and sad. She reached over and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. Her touch seemed to snap him out of his daze and he looked over at her, then wiped a hand down his face.
“Who is Eve?” Tuck asked quietly.
Ryan blew out a long breath. “Eve Tamblyn. We knew each other in high school, and then met again about, uh, I guess it would’ve been close to seven years ago. We dated the last two years I was in the Reserves and college. When I took the job in Chandler, she decided it was time we got married so she could come along. I wasn’t quite ready for that and she was tired of waiting, so we broke up. It was hard on both of us, and she was pretty angry at me. I never saw her again.”
Patrick cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to have been so abrupt about her passing. I assumed you had heard.”
Ryan shook his head. “I had no idea. I don’t have any family living in our hometown anymore, so I don’t get news from there.”
“I’m afraid that’s not the last surprise,” the attorney said apologetically. “Would you like us to step out while you read the letter? It’s quite long.”
Libby saw Ryan’s quick frown, then he looked at the envelope. She was pretty sure he’d forgotten all about it for a moment.
“No, you don’t have to leave. Um, I’ll read it quick and then give it to you all.” He opened the envelope and took out several sheets of paper. Libby could see that they were hand written, front and back, and she saw the slightest tremor in Ryan’s hands as he held them.
She stood and walked over to the window behind Tuck’s desk, where the other three joined her, giving Ryan some privacy but staying in the room, as he wished. Libby felt nauseous with worry, and when her eyes met Maddy’s she was pretty sure her friend felt the same. Tuck had his emotionless professional face on, but Libby saw a muscle jump in his jaw as he crossed his arms and paced a few steps away.
Ryan’s back was to them, so she couldn’t see his expression as he read, but his shoulders were set and stiff, before he suddenly drooped over, his elbows coming to rest on his knees, one hand gripping the top of his head while the other clutched the pages. For a while he just sat there, not even looking at the letter. Libby looked at Tuck, mutely asking him what they should do. He shook his head, indicating that they shouldn’t interfere. Eventually Ryan lifted the pages again and kept reading.
Long minutes passed and then he rose slowly, not turning to face them right away. When he finally did, Libby’s heart dropped. Ryan’s face was pale, his hands were shaking, and his eyes—his eyes showed a devastation so deep Libby felt an almost physical pain in response. Unable to help herself she went to him, stopping when he thrust the pages of the letter toward her.
“I need to get some air,” he said harshly.
Libby grabbed at the sheets as he released them and spun around to leave.
“Hey, Ry,” Tuck said. “Hold up.”
Ryan stopped but didn’t turn around. His breathing was ragged as he raised his hands and laced them behind his head, waiting.
“Don’t go out the front, just in case Patrick was followed. There’s a courtyard out back. The door is down the hall to the right, second door from the end.”
“Thanks,” Ryan said shortly.
Libby watched him go, then turned to look at her brother. “He shouldn’t be alone.”
Tuck held out his hand for the letter. When Libby handed it to him he nodded, his blue eyes somber. “Go, but give him some space if he needs it,” he said.
Libby hurried out of the room and down the hall, pushing through the second door from the end as Tuck had directed. The courtyard was a large, well-kept grassy area, with a few medium sized trees and wrought iron benches scattered throughout. She saw Ryan at the far end, his forearms braced against the brick wall of the building, his forehead resting against his wrists.
It was excruciating to see one of the strongest, most stoic men she’d ever met standing there looking so beaten. Maybe he preferred to be alone, but she couldn’t stay away. She just couldn’t.
“Ryan,” she said, coming to a stop beside him. She put a tentative hand on his back, rubbing gently. “What can I do? Please tell me what I can do.”
He didn’t lift his head and it took him a while to respond. “Did you read any of it?” he finally asked.
“No, I didn’t want you to be alone. Tuck and Maddy are reading it.”
He drew in a shaky breath, then slowly turned around. His eyes were dry but full of pain.
Libby slid her arms around his waist and held him as tightly as she could. For a moment he stood stiff and unresponsive, then he let out a deep sigh and wrapped his arms around her, dropping his face into her hair. She could feel tremors shaking his body and she was terrified for him.
“What is it, Ryan? What did the letter say?”
“Never in my wildest dreams,” he murmured. He dropped his arms and stepped away from her, then walked over to sit on a nearby bench. Libby followed and sat beside him, taking his hand and holding it between hers.
“Tell me,” she urged.
His head fell back, his eyes closed. “I have a son,” he said brokenly. “I have a five year old son I didn’t know about. And he doesn’t know about me. His name is Henry Ryan but they call him Hank. And I’ve missed over five years of his life. Five years, Libby.”
As his words sunk in, she completely understood his extreme reaction. Through no fault of his own, Ryan had been an absent dad, and for a man overflowing with honor and integrity, tha
t was a devastating blow. “I’m so sorry,” she said gently. “I’m so sorry you didn’t know.”
“It gets worse,” he said bleakly. “His step-father is the one who’s trying to destroy me.”
Libby’s mind whirled as she tried to make sense of that. Why? What was his motive? Understanding suddenly dawned.
“Oh my word, he’s afraid you’ll take Hank now that Eve is gone.”
Ryan nodded. “Once again your powers of deduction are correct. But he’s not doing it because he loves the boy and can’t stand the idea of being separated.”
“Then why?”
Ryan sighed as he prepared to tell her what he had learned. “Eve came from a very wealthy family. When she turned twenty-five, she gained access to a huge trust fund left to her by her grandparents. We’re talking more than twenty million. I know because we were dating at the time, and she wanted me with her when she went to sign the papers and take possession. Honestly, it couldn’t have happened to a nicer girl. Eve was a great person, humble and sweet. She’d always had plenty of money, so the trust fund didn’t change her. She had good advisors to manage it, and I think for the most part she actually forgot about it.”
Libby nodded approvingly. As the recipient of a large trust fund herself, she knew how easy it would have been to let the money go to her head. “Is the step-dad after the money?” she asked.
“Yeah. Eve said in the letter that her husband, Anthony, didn’t know about that money until recently. She never told him about it because she was afraid he’d spend it, and she wanted it all to go to Hank. She said she had been unhappy with Anthony for a long time, but he’s a very intimidating, overbearing man, and it wasn’t until she got sick that she gained the courage to start the process of divorcing him, for Hank’s sake. Anthony had never adopted him, so if she divorced him, he wouldn’t hold any legal claim to Hank. She made her parents his guardians.”
“But then Anthony found out about the money?” Libby asked.
“Not right away. He didn’t want the divorce, because even without the trust fund Eve was loaded. So he hired a PI to dig into every aspect of her life, hoping to get some leverage he could use to convince her to stop the divorce proceedings and turn her accounts over to him before she died. Evidently the PI found out about her inheritance, and after that Anthony found ways to delay the proceedings over and over, hoping she would die before the divorce could be made final. Of course Eve did all she could to make sure the guy would never get his hands on the money. Anthony didn’t know it, but she had already put it all in a new trust fund for Hank, which he’ll get when he’s eighteen. But she got scared about what Anthony might do. She knew he wouldn’t back down easily, and that’s when she decided to made me Hank’s guardian and caretaker instead of her parents. She was afraid her parents wouldn’t be able to stand up against Anthony, and she didn’t want Hank to be stuck with him under any circumstances.”
