From Mistake to Millions

by Andrea Laurence

  Jade let her body relax into the bed and took a deep breath. Even then, her mind was spinning. That was unexpected. The whole thing. And now that it was over, she wasn’t sure what to do. Cuddle? Nap? Get up and make dinner? Thank him for the orgasms and put her clothes back on? She’d never had a fling before, so she wasn’t quite sure what came next.

  Without a better option, she pressed a kiss to Harley’s cheek, rolled out of bed and went to take a shower. Maybe the hot water and breathing room would clear her mind and she could figure out the path forward.

  If she was honest, the path would probably lead right back into bed with him.

  * * *

  Harley was confused.

  Sex had rarely been a complicated thing in his mind. It was a physical release, a meeting of desires, nothing more. And that was what it was supposed to be with Jade. That’s what he’d told himself, at least. But things always seemed to be more complex when Jade was involved. At least it was this time. He didn’t recall it being like this the first time. There had been emotions involved back then. Puppy love, he supposed.

  That was a long time ago. Things were different now. They were both mature and there was an unspoken understanding that this tryst had a time limit. He would conclude his investigation and go back to DC. She would find her family and move on with her new life. This temporary connection should be simple and enjoyable, without a bunch of expectations and romantic notions.

  But now, it was the decided lack of emotions from Jade that bothered him.

  It wasn’t that she was disengaged or not attracted to him. The opposite was true. She had blossomed into an enthusiastic and skilled lover over the years. He tried not to think too hard about where she’d learned some of the things she’d done to him the night before. It made him want to drive to the prison just so he could punch Lance in the face.

  No, what bothered Harley was the wall. Jade was physically closer to him than she had ever been, but more closed off than ever before. He supposed he should be relieved that she didn’t get too attached to him too quickly, but the opposite reaction was unnerving and very unlike his Jade. The girl he remembered was an emotional open book. So full of love, so trusting.

  This Jade was older, harder, less willing to open up to him or anyone else, he’d wager. It wasn’t something he’d done, either. It had to be Lance. That guy had taken her innocence and stomped all over it. After going through all that, perhaps she didn’t have the right head space for anything beyond the physical.

  Maybe despite everything, Harley was still not good enough for her. Perhaps he would do better to focus on his case than to focus on his ex. That was what he was getting paid to do, after all.

  A familiar ring tone roused him from his thoughts. It was Isaiah. Harley had been expecting this call, although he hadn’t been expecting it this early in the morning. Then again, Isaiah knew what hours he kept.

  He reached for his phone. “This is Dalton.”

  “Hey, bro,” he answered in a chipper voice, despite it being five in the morning.

  Harley chuckled. While technically his employee, Isaiah was more his friend than anything. He kept things sailing smoothly for him. “Good morning.”

  “So, I got your email about the equipment install and the list of people to run through the database. I’ve got good news and bad news. How do you want it?”

  Harley bit back a groan. “Bad news first. Always bad news first.”

  “Okay. We’re out of stock on a few items we need to install at the Charleston residence, so I’m afraid I won’t be able to send someone down right away.”

  Damn it. “How long are we talking?”

  “Just a few days. Maybe Monday. It depends on how quickly we can get our hands on it all.”

  Since Harley was staying with Jade, he supposed a delay wasn’t the end of the world, but he still didn’t like it. What if this had been a paying client? Or someone without a security detail to keep her safe while they waited on some video camera to be in stock? “Okay. But I want you to have a chat with inventory control. We should never be out. We should have a backup for our backups. Got it?”

  “Roger that.”

  “And what’s the good news?”

  “That I have your list of addresses for all the parents and most of the daughters.”

  “Excellent. Email them to me.”

  “Already done. Check your in-box.”

  Harley pulled the phone from his ear and noticed the new-message alert. He opened the email and scanned through the list of names and addresses. It was incomplete, as Isaiah had mentioned. The daughter of the Steele family wasn’t there. “What about Morgan Steele? She’s not on here.”

  “I told you I had most of the daughters. She’s my exception. It’s going to take a little more work for her. Morgan’s last known physical address was in Charleston with her parents, but that was before she went to college. After that, all I could get was a PO box at the University of South Carolina.”

  Harley frowned. “I doubt she’s still in college.”

  “Correct. School records show she graduated several years back. She’s likely got nothing in her name to trace. The Steele family is rich beyond belief, with multiple houses and investment properties. I’d bet she’s living in a property owned by her father’s trust or beneath their corporate umbrella. She probably has corporate credit cards and offshore accounts.”

  “What, no driver’s license?”

  “She has one, but it lists the family home as her address. My research shows she works at the DC facility for the family company, so I’ll probably be able to get her contact information from there. Just give me a day or two.”

  “Steele. Why do I know that name?” Harley asked. He’d copied down the names from the hospital files, but hadn’t done any research of his own yet.

  “It sounded familiar to me, too, so I started doing a little research on them. The family founded Steele Tools, man. Apparently it was started in Charleston over a hundred years ago by their great-great-grandfather. They started off selling through catalogs and now they’re in every home improvement store in the country. The Steele family is one of the wealthiest and most powerful in South Carolina. Or dare I say, America. They’ve spawned their share of CEOs, but also a senator, a judge, doctors, lawyers...you name it. Morgan works for the company, as do most of the people in the family.”

  The longer Isaiah spoke, the more Harley’s stomach started to ache. He’d had no idea his list of candidates included such a high-profile family. Swapping babies started to make a little more sense now. Well, at least why one of the families might be targeted. Once you were that well-known, you were the focus of every crazy who wanted a piece of what you had.

  “I need you to find out everything you can about the Steele family, especially over the last forty years. Any little detail could be important.”

  “A family like that is going to be in the papers every time one of them takes a big crap.”

  “I don’t care. I want it all. Get your guys on it. Especially focus on Morgan Steele. If she’s our girl, I want to know as much as I can about her. And get those parts we need for the surveillance system down here. I can’t watch this house every second.”

  “Sir, yes, sir,” Isaiah said sharply, with an edge of sarcasm. He would do it, though. Harley could always count on his operations manager to get things done. “Just one last question and I’ll get right on it.”

  “Yeah?”

  “What are you really doing down there, Harley?”

  And with that, they’d just transitioned from employer-employee to friends chatting on the phone. “I’m investigating a case. What do you mean, what am I doing here?” he asked, knowing full well what his friend meant.

  “I mean, since when does the CEO cart his ass down to Charleston for a piddly little case like this?”

  “When the CEO gets ti
red of paper-pushing. And this isn’t a piddly case, Isaiah. If this links back to the Steele family, it could become a very high-profile job.”

  There were a few moments of silence on the line before Isaiah responded again. “Cut the crap, man. Who is this woman? Tell me you’d still be down there if it were anyone else.”

  Harley couldn’t, and they both knew it. He wasn’t one to lie—he preferred avoiding the truth, which wasn’t quite the same thing—and he wasn’t going to lie to his best friend. He’d tell him. He just might not tell him everything. “She’s my ex-girlfriend from back before I joined the navy.”

  “I knew it!” Isaiah shouted into the phone. “I knew there was more to it. So, what, you still carrying a torch for her or something?”

  “Please,” Harley said. “Have you seen me moon over a woman in the years you’ve known me?”

  He was hardly the kind of guy who got wrapped up in a relationship, much less pine for someone. He honestly couldn’t say that he’d had something that even looked like a relationship since he’d been out of the service. He hadn’t had the time, the energy or the inclination. And even if he did, he hadn’t met anyone who made him want more than just a little physical pleasure.

  At least until he woke up this morning feeling used for the first time in his life. How the tables had turned when he least expected it...

  “No. You’re pretty cool and collected when it comes to the ladies. Too cool, if you ask me.”

  “I didn’t.”

  Isaiah chuckled into the phone. “You’re a little snippier than usual this morning.”

  “I’m not snippy,” Harley said, knowing full well that was exactly the word for his tone of voice. “I’m just not in the mood for you to philosophize about my love life. It’s too damn early. Yes, I was curious about Jade and what had become of her. Yes, I’m trying to do her a favor by finding out what happened to her and keeping her safe in the meantime. But that’s all there is to it.”

  “So you’re not sleeping with her?”

  Harley sputtered for a moment, knowing that even when he got his words together, Isaiah wouldn’t believe him. “And if I were?” he asked at last.

  Isaiah sighed heavily into the receiver and Harley could almost picture him with his feet propped up on the desk as he leaned back almost too far in his executive chair.

  “I’d say there’s way more to this story than you’re letting on.”

  Seven

  “Yes, I’d like to leave another message for Mr. Steele. Please press upon him the importance of my call. It’s about his daughter, Morgan. Yes, it’s Harley Dalton with Dalton Security calling again. I’m working on a case with St. Francis Hospital and it’s imperative that I speak with Mr. or Mrs. Steele as soon as possible about a private matter.”

  Harley clicked off with more force than was necessary to terminate a call on a smartphone, and chucked it onto the dashboard of his car. There just wasn’t the same satisfaction as slamming down an old landline phone. He needed some kind of outlet for his frustration. It was the sixth call he’d made to the Steele family’s various numbers over the last three days and all he’d managed to reach were assistants or housekeepers. With them dodging his calls, all he could do now was slip his phone into his pocket and carry on with the last of his interviews.

  He should’ve felt some sense of accomplishment by the time Sunday rolled around, but he didn’t. He blamed Isaiah and his relationship meddling for that. All weekend, his friend’s words had made him feel off-kilter for some reason, as though he had some kind of mental vertigo. It made him want to question his own justifications behind this investigation and why he was here in Charleston. He could’ve sent anyone; his friend was right. But Harley had told him to mind his own business and had got off the phone.

  Now, days later, he didn’t have a better answer. He just didn’t know. And lately, he had too many other things to worry about.

  Not that he hadn’t made significant headway in the investigation over the last few days—he had. With the contact information he received from Isaiah, he’d called all the families, talking to some and leaving messages with others. With the local families he could reach, he’d set up appointments to meet with them at various times over the weekend. He’d been able to talk to every family but the Steeles so far. That didn’t surprise him, but it did raise his suspicions about the wealthy family. Once he finished what he had on his plate for the day, he intended to follow up on them.

  With his interviews keeping him away from the house, he’d had to figure out what to do with Jade. Since she didn’t work that Friday or Sunday, he had to factor her into his plans. He scheduled as much as he could while she was working on Saturday, but there was only so much he could do then. In an abundance of caution she felt was unnecessary, he’d insisted that she spend Friday and Sunday afternoons with her parents. She had grumbled at first, suggested going with him—and then finally relented. With Jade’s well-being taken care of for the afternoons, Harley was finally able to conduct his interviews in person.

  Each family visit had gone the same way: he’d interviewed the parents, spoken with the daughters if possible, and taken DNA samples from anyone he could. He wasn’t about to rely on clues like physical resemblance to the Nolans. Genetics were a funny thing, with recessive traits playing tricks on your eyes. Just because someone did or didn’t look like their parents wasn’t enough for Harley. He wanted the DNA report in hand to prove without a doubt that they shared enough genetic markers to be parent and child.

  Though if asked off the record, Harley would admit all the families he’d met with today could be eliminated. Not a single person he saw had the large doe eyes he’d fallen for back in high school. By process of elimination, that left just the elusive Steele family. He was hoping that wouldn’t be the case, but the minute Isaiah had mentioned how rich and powerful they were, Harley’s instincts had told him that was the path he needed to follow. The most difficult path, of course. To the family who hadn’t returned his calls. With the daughter who left barely any trace of her existence.

  Even then, he’d wait for the DNA reports before he shared that information with anyone. He’d had the collection of samples overnighted to his lab, and then went to see the former head of the hospital, to talk about the facility back in the nineties.

  That’s where he was now—sitting in the driveway outside the mansion of former St. Francis Hospital CEO Orson Tate. He killed the engine of the Jag and walked up to the front door.

  It was an impressive home, filled with all the charm a traditional Charleston home should have, but few could afford. It wasn’t an historical landmark, but a new building with classic details, bordering the golf course behind it. Harley rang the doorbell and waited a few moments before Orson Tate answered. He had a full head of white hair, and was wearing bifocals and a sweater.

  “Mr. Dalton?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Come on in,” the older man said, gesturing inside as he stepped out of the doorway.

  Harley shook his hand after he closed the door behind them. “Thank you for taking the time to speak with me today, Mr. Tate.”

  “Oh, I’ve got plenty of time. I can’t play golf every day. At least that’s what my wife tells me. Come this way. We can chat out in the sunroom. My wife put out some tea and cookies for us.”

  He followed the man through the house and out a pair of French doors to a sunroom that overlooked the golf course. His prized view included a water hazard with a fountain that attracted cranes and other wildlife. Harley could see a group of golfers out on the course, laughing and playing the nearby hole.

  The two of them settled into a pair of white wicker patio chairs with a platter of sweet iced tea and sugar cookies between them. Harley took out his phone to record the conversation, as he always did, and got started on their chat.

  “So what’s this all about, Dalton
?” Tate asked as he took a sip of his tea and sat back in the cushions with a weary sigh. “Jeffries didn’t tell me much on the phone, just that you would be in touch.”

  Harley imagined that the current CEO wanted as few people as possible to know about the situation. “Mr. Jeffries hired me to look into allegations that babies were switched at the hospital back in 1989. Specifically during Hurricane Hugo.”

  Orson winced and shook his head sadly. “That was a hell of a thing. Absolute chaos. I like to think we ran a pretty tight ship at St. Francis, but if something was going to go awry, that would’ve been the time for it. We were so close to the coast we got hit hard. It was all hands on deck. Even I was giving out water and helping nurses in triage. You know it’s bad when that happens.”

  He could only imagine. Harley had been just a few months old at the time, with no memories of the storm, but his mother had spoken about it from time to time. Everyone in Charleston did. You didn’t even have to say hurricane. It was just Hugo, like some beast had come ashore and ravished the town.

  “Mr. Jeffries gave me access to all the files. There wasn’t much in terms of security in place back then, at least not that survived the last thirty years. Even then, I can’t help but think it would’ve had to have been an inside job. Perhaps one of the doctors or nurses working the floor. They were the only individuals who would’ve had access to the babies.”

  The older man nodded thoughtfully. “We considered our technology to be state of the art back then, but it’s nothing compared to now. They damn near put a GPS tracker in their diapers these days. I hate to think one of our staff might have been involved in something like that, but you’re right. It’s that or gross incompetence, and I can’t imagine how that could happen. The babies each had name bands that matched them to their parents. The bands stayed on through baths, treatments, even surgery if it was needed. You had to practically cut them off the baby’s leg when they were discharged. They did not slip off. Never.”