Beyond the Consequences Page 11

  “What?” Claire asked with genuine curiosity.

  With a huge grin, Tony moved to stand and extended his hand. Within his grasp was a remote control puppy, obviously low on batteries. Every few seconds, one of its legs moved, creating a faint grinding noise.

  “Your puppy!” Claire exclaimed. Nichol’s head popped up, and she reached for the mechanical dog.

  “Bad puppy!” she said with a smile.

  “He’s not bad,” Tony explained. “He just wanted your attention. If he’d have been quiet under there you may have forgotten about him.”

  Claire set Nichol on her bed and took the puppy. “Let me turn him off. In the morning, we’ll find some more batteries so he can play with you.”

  “Okay,” Nichol replied, stifling a yawn and climbing under the covers. “I fought it was a monster.”

  “A monster? Not in our house. Didn’t you know?” Tony asked.

  Nichol looked up with wide eyes. “What?”

  “No monsters are allowed past the gates. It’s a rule,” Tony assured.

  Lying down next to Nichol, Claire grinned up at Tony. “If you’re done with your rules, we’re waiting for our story.”

  Reaching for a book from their daughter’s bookshelf, Tony’s dark eyes gleamed. “Yes, I’ll give you both a story, and then…” His brows rose with his unspoken meaning.

  “And then you’ll remember to lock the door?” Claire whispered with a smirk, her comment going unnoticed by the beautiful little girl snuggling into her side. Already Nichol’s eyes were half closed as she rubbed her cheek against Claire’s soft cashmere robe. Looking up to her husband, Claire said, “You’d better hurry, if she’s going to hear any of—”

  “Goodnight Moon…” Tony began his voice low and strong. “In the great green room…”

  Closing her eyes, Claire absorbed her daughter’s radiating warmth as the baritone words filled the lavender suite. With each page, Nichol’s breathing steadied until the rhythmic cadence told them that she was once again sound asleep. Undaunted, Tony continued.

  Claire imagined having two children vying for their attention, and with all her heart, she knew that as full of love as she felt at that moment, there would always be room for more. Just like John and Emily accepted Nichol into their family and how they were not so patiently awaiting the arrival of their daughter. Just as she and Tony adored Nichol, they would have another child and that child too would know this sense of love. Unknowingly, the smile returned to her lips. There was no other cause than the truth: she was truly happy.

  If you have to do it, then you’re doing the right thing.

  —Kathy Valentine

  MANY OF THE small towns and counties in Minnesota suffered the same nationwide crisis. Promising young minds weren’t content to stay; they wanted the glamor of the bigger cities. In Minnesota, that would be Minneapolis or St. Paul. The small town of Olivia, Minnesota, was no different. Located at the junction of Highway 71 and Highway 212, Olivia’s claim to fame was its title: Corn Capital of the World. In reality the friendly people of Olivia were determined to survive despite the odds, and in doing so, they openly welcomed new residents. With a strong sense of camaraderie and a median household income of a little over thirty-five thousand, Olivia was not only a good place to live, but it was also a great place for a person with a large severance package to disappear.

  Taylor had never met Patricia, but she’d done her research. She knew all that Phil had told her, and because going above and beyond was the way she worked, she knew a little bit more. The Rawlings security team had questions, wanted answers, and wasn’t willing to wait on the FBI to provide them. Was Patricia merely a jaded employee who’d had higher expectations for her relationship with her boss, or was her motive more sinister? Taylor’s goal was to learn more about the motivation behind Patricia’s mailings by integrating herself into Olivia and essentially Patricia’s new life.

  Looking for the perfect opportunity, it was decided that Taylor would play the role of the granddaughter of an older couple who resided just outside Olivia. They were relatively new to the area and spent their winters in the warmth of Arizona. Currently, they were still living south of Phoenix. Mr. Townsend, the gentleman whom Taylor claimed was her grandfather, had been dealing with various health issues while away. Since most of the people in town knew the Townsends’ background, when Taylor entered the local law firm to discuss the deed to her grandparents’ home, no one was suspicious.

  Wearing her long brown hair down and wavy with her normal suit replaced by jeans and a t-shirt, Taylor looked at least five years younger, and actually resembled the Townsends’ granddaughter. There was a time in small-town America when such a deception wouldn’t be feasible. However, even with the sense of community, in today’s self-absorbed world, people were willing to accept things at face value. Besides, between Taylor’s research and Phil’s resources, she was well versed on everything the Townsends’ granddaughter should know and had the credentials to prove it.

  Since moving to Olivia, Patricia had assumed the alias of Melissa Garrison. Melissa worked in the small law practice of Jefferson Diamond, located in a nondescript storefront on Main Street. Most of Olivia was on Main Street or within a block or two in each direction. Upon entering Diamond’s storefront, Taylor deduced that Mr. Diamond’s office consisted of a reception area with a large wraparound desk and individual office spaces all accessible through doors off the center room. The paneled walls and vinyl chairs were a flashback to the 1970s and a far cry from Patricia’s office at Rawlings corporate headquarters in Iowa City.

  After only a few minutes of speaking with the office manager, who’d introduced herself as Ami, Taylor caught her first glance of Patricia. Their suspect barely noticed Taylor as she carried a box of files from one room to the other. Though Patricia didn’t look exactly like her photographs, Taylor recognized her immediately. Her body shape and features were the same, but she’d changed her hair. No longer was it long and brown. Now she sported a short, spikey deep-red style.

  Not long into her conversation with Ami, the two struck up a kind of friendship. It wasn’t until Taylor was about to leave and she mentioned staying alone at her grandparents’ home that Ami said, “Oh, you can’t be all by yourself way out there all night. Why don’t you stay in town and have dinner with us?”

  Taylor hid her excitement. It was the perfect opportunity to learn more about Patricia. “Well, I’m not sure…”

  “Nonsense, we all hang out on Friday nights at the pub on Main. It has pool tables and darts. There’s a dance floor…” Ami scrunched her nose and forehead. “…but no one around here dances. If you want clubs like that you need to drive to Minneapolis.”

  “Are you sure I won’t be intruding?” Taylor asked. “I don’t want to get in the way of office talk.”

  “Mel?” Ami called toward the back room. “Do we talk shop at the bar?”

  Patricia shook her head as she emerged from the doorway, wiping her hands on her black slacks. “Nope. It’s our time to unwind.”

  “Do you all go? How many of you work here?”

  Patricia replied, “There’s three of us, four if Jefferson goes, but I don’t think Janice thinks too much of that. He’s only gone twice since I’ve been working here.”

  “Jefferson? Oh, Mr. Diamond,” Taylor said, playing her part. Speaking of her boss by his first name and mentioning his wife, Taylor wondered if Patricia had set her sights on her new boss as she had her old. If she had, by the look of the law firm, it was a considerable downgrade from Anthony Rawlings. “Well,” Taylor continued, “I need to do a few more things for my grandparents. Can I meet you?”

  “Sure,” Ami replied. “We usually go home and change into jeans and meet there about 6:30. We’ll save you a seat.”

  Ami’s perkiness was contagious. If Taylor truly had been the granddaughter of the Townsends’, she would enjoy visiting and spending time with her. As it was, Ami’s excessive talking was confirmation of informa
tion Taylor already knew—that the law firm closed at 5:00 PM. Since it was nearly 3:00 PM now, Phil had two hours to set up surveillance in Patricia’s rented home.

  Stepping out onto the quaint street, Taylor looked at the bars on her phone in disgust as she tried to call Phil. It wasn’t until she was in her car and driving toward Patricia’s rented home that she had enough signal to complete the call. How could these people stand it? Taylor wondered. Then remembering the old-fashioned bulky phone she’d seen on Ami’s desk, she decided that maybe they didn’t use cell phones exclusively—like most of the civilized world.

  “It’s her,” Taylor said as Phil answered.

  “We knew it was.”

  “We assumed it, but I’m one hundred percent certain. You have two hours before she gets off work.”

  Phil laughed. “I’m done. The equipment is set, both in her house and her car. I’ll go back to the law office later and set some up there.”

  “Did you find anything informative in her house?”

  “Nothing I want to discuss.”

  Taylor didn’t like his answer, but time had taught her that Phil would share information when he was ready and not a moment sooner. Trying to ease her own concern, she volunteered, “Ami was kind enough to ask me to join them all for dinner.”

  “You didn’t have to invite yourself?”

  “No, it couldn’t have happened more naturally. I also confirmed that all of the women in the firm go out together on Friday nights to unwind. From what Melissa…” She emphasized the alias name. “…said, Jefferson Diamond doesn’t usually join them. I’ll try to learn his location while at dinner and text you.”

  “There’s a front and back entrance to the law office. Since I’m done setting up the surveillance, you watch the back door and I’ll watch the front. Hopefully we’ll see everyone leave and I can slip in.”

  Slowing her car, Taylor steered into a driveway and turned around. “All right, boss.”

  “Taylor?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Stay hidden.”

  “Did you feel the need to say that? I told them I was heading out to my grandparents’. Being seen sitting outside their office would give me away. Don’t you think?”

  “I just have a feeling about this. I have since the first mailing. There was something at her house…” He paused. “…I think there’s more to it, and I don’t want to blow this opportunity to learn what that is.”

  Taylor nodded to no one. “What? What’s at her house?”

  “We’ll discuss it later.”

  Though she knew she wouldn’t get anything more at this time, she at least knew her gut feeling had been confirmed. “All right. You tell me when you’re ready. I’m heading back.”

  The line disconnected.

  The concern in Phil’s voice unnerved her. She knew how he felt about the Rawlingses, and honestly, in the past few months she’d come to feel the same, especially about Nichol. The little girl was both spoiled and adorable—not what Taylor had imagined. Nichol was gracious and polite. Even though she had the world by a string, she was still excited by the simplest of things. For lack of a better assessment, Nichol didn’t act entitled. Taylor attributed her behavior more to the Vandersols and Mrs. Rawlings than to Mr. Rawlings. When it came to her father, Taylor doubted there was much of anything that Nichol couldn’t get and time would tell how that would play out.

  Nichol’s interaction with the security team was also a source of enjoyment. From what Taylor had heard and been told, neither Phil nor Eric were used to the presence of children. Mrs. Rawlings joked about the learning curve of the men in Nichol’s life. Though Phil would never admit it, when Nichol took his hand and looked up at him with her big brown eyes, Taylor saw that he was putty in her little hands.

  Taylor had worked temporary security with other wealthy families. The environment with the Rawlings was refreshingly familial and caring. The lack of pretentiousness, especially from Mrs. Rawlings, endeared Taylor to this family. Claire wanted Nichol to feel as if she was surrounded by family, not employees. Not every household could do that. More than once, Phil slipped and referred to them as his family. With Phil having been with them for years, Taylor understood how he could feel that way.

  Taylor made her way to the back alley near the law firm, found a safe, inconspicuous parking space, and waited. Upon her arrival, there were three cars parked near the rear entrance. By 5:15 PM, it was down to one. She sent Phil a text message:

  “ONLY THE BLACK CRV REMAINS. PATRICIA AND HEATHER LEFT AT 5:00 PM.”

  Her phone vibrated less than a minute later.

  “AMI AND JEFFERSON LEFT THROUGH THE FRONT. HE LOCKED THE DOOR AS HE LEFT.”

  Taylor replied.

  “WHO OWNS THE CRV? I THOUGHT IT WAS AMI’S.”

  Phil.

  “IT IS. SHE WALKED TO THE STORE. GIVE HER A FEW MORE MINUTES.”

  It wasn’t long until Ami came through the rear entrance carrying two brown bags of groceries. Taylor started to type her text, when her phone rang.

  “Get out to the Townsends’ farmhouse right away.”

  “Why?” Taylor asked as she started her car.

  “From the bug in Patricia’s car, I heard her talking to Ami on the phone. Ami went to the grocery store to get you a few things and she’s taking them to you right now.”

  “Shit! She just got in her car. If I leave now, she’ll follow me the whole way.”

  “I’ll delay her,” Phil assured. “Just get out there. I’ve disabled the alarm system. Your key will work fine. Turn on some lights. She won’t be too far behind you.”

  Keeping her head low, Taylor eased her car from the parking spot. Her only choice was to drive behind Ami’s CRV. Luckily, Ami was still talking on her phone and didn’t seem to notice. Just as Taylor made it to the cross street at the end of the block, she saw Phil, in her rearview mirror, approaching Ami’s SUV. Taylor didn’t know what he was going to do, but whatever it was, she hoped it gave her more than a minute’s head start.

  Ten minutes later, Taylor turned the key and opened the back door of the Townsends’ farmhouse. Linoleum floor, Formica-topped table with padded vinyl chairs, and more Formica on the counters confirmed that she’d entered their kitchen. Momentarily, she wondered if the interior decorating in Olivia was horribly behind the times or had the whole town had gone retro? Hurriedly, Taylor turned on lights. She tried to turn on the TV; however, it seemed that the cable was off; instead of sound, there was only blue screen. On the kitchen counter, nestled between turquoise blue canisters and an electric can opener, was an old clock radio with numbers that flipped instead of a digital readout. How long had it been since they made those? Trying for the homey effect, Taylor flipped a switch and country music filled the air. Just as Taylor settled onto a vinyl chair at the kitchen table, she heard the sound of a car coming up the gravel driveway.

  Moments later the knock at the door confirmed her visitor. Taylor grinned at how Ami had come to the same door she’d just entered. It seemed real people in rural towns rarely used the front door. They also didn’t have staff to welcome their guests. Taking a deep breath, Taylor peered behind the lacy curtain and through the glass. Feigning surprise, she opened the door. “Ami! What are you doing here?”

  With a large smile, the blonde office manager handed Taylor one brown paper sack. “You said you were leaving in the morning. Since your grandparents have been out of town for months, I figured there wasn’t much here. I thought you might like some coffee. I got a small creamer too.”

  “Thank you,” Taylor replied. “Um, do you want to come in?”

  “Just for a second,” Ami said, walking into the kitchen. “I wanted to ask you something before we all got together tonight.” Her lips momentarily pressed together. “Well, two somethings.”

  “Okay,” Taylor replied as she took the creamer from the bag and placed it in the refrigerator. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized no light came on within the large appliance. Undoubtedly
it’d been turned off for the season. She moved quickly, hoping that Ami wouldn’t notice. When she turned back around, Ami was busy looking at the collection of plates hanging on the wall. “What did you want to ask?”

  “The first one is selfish, but…” She hesitated. “…I’m just going to ask. Since you’re looking into the deed, are your grandparents planning to sell?”

  Shit! “Ami, with the way Grandpa’s been feeling, they really don’t know. They just want to cover their bases.”

  “Will you remember me, if they do?”

  Taylor tilted her head to the side. “Remember you? What do you mean?”

  Ami reached in her purse and handed Taylor a card. “I recently got my realtor’s license and well, you’ll meet Heather. She works with us too. She’s been doing realty for a while. So to ask you in front of her…” Taylor tried to listen as Ami shared more information about herself in a period of ten minutes than most people do who’ve known each other for years. When she got to the part about her little boy, Taylor’s listening skills went into hyperdrive.

  “…we live with my parents. Working for Jefferson will never get me my own house. I really want that for Brian and I’m tired of living under my parents’ roof. I didn’t realize how much I wanted a place of my own until Mel moved here.”

  “Mel? Why? Does she make you feel bad about living with your parents?”

  Ami shrugged. “Not intentionally, but with the situation with her daughter, she talks about how much better off she’d be living with her. And it made me think about having my own place with Brian.” Ami shook her head. “Mel doesn’t like hearing me talk about Brian, unless she’s talking about how she’s going to win back custody and bring Nicole here to live.” Ami’s eyes got big. “Oh, that’s the other thing I wanted to ask you. Do you have kids? If you do, don’t mention them tonight. Mel gets very uncomfortable.”