Читать книгу By Request Collection April-June 2016 - Оливия Гейтс - Страница 101
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ОглавлениеTUCKER WAS ALREADY IN THE sunroom, waiting for his mother to join him for lunch. He never minded spending time with her, but he wished he could do something more to lift her spirits.
Finding Leanna Warner would help. Irene wanted so badly to bring Christian back into her life that Tucker would do just about anything he could to make that happen. Proving Christian’s innocence was no guarantee that he’d see past the pain of being abandoned as a child and give his mother and Tucker another chance. But it was Tucker’s best shot.
Tucker had gone through his own pain and doubt during his parents’ bitter divorce, but he’d been the lucky one. He’d ended up with his mother, a man he admired as his new father and a legacy of wealth and privilege to live up to. Christian had been the bargaining chip for Rory Andrews to grant Irene her divorce. She’d never dreamed that Rory would vanish, would subject Christian to a nomadic life following the horse-racing circuit and running from debts.
That Christian had gone to college and received his master’s in finance was a testament to hard work and determination, because there’d been no support from his dad. Now, to have this cloud of suspicion over his reputation was another kick in the teeth Christian didn’t deserve.
Every time Tucker thought of the grief Leanna Warner had brought down on his family it angered him further, but he’d never been one to act rashly. By the time he turned that woman in, he’d make damn sure his brother would be exonerated completely.
Irene entered the room with her head high, and a smile on her face. It was all for show, but sometimes he thought the facade was the only thing keeping her going. That and hope.
THE MORNING WENT BY IN FITS and starts, and Shea was late. Her phone was going straight to voice mail, which meant she probably hadn’t remembered to turn it on again. Annie had gone back to the computer several times, just to make sure she wasn’t freaking out over nothing, but she wasn’t. Her picture, along with her first name being associated with Safe Haven, was plenty to worry about. Shea would know how many hits the site had logged, and that page in particular. A high number would be more reason to run as quickly as possible. A low number meant it was far less risky for Annie to stay.
God, she wanted to stay.
The irony wasn’t lost on her. She’d been so intent on becoming a mover and shaker in Manhattan that she’d gotten herself into the worst trouble she could imagine. Now, she was desperate to live in a cabin that made her first New York apartment look roomy, and had fallen in love with a life of pitching hay and nursing everything from piglets to Brahma bulls. But she’d better stop romanticizing the sanctuary and her life, because that would make running even harder.
“Annie? Can I ride Candy Cane after class?”
Shaken out of her slide toward panic, she smiled at one of her favorite students—a small girl for a senior—who was deeply infatuated with horses. “You have a ride home?”
Stephanie nodded. “My mom said I could stay for an hour if it’s okay with you.”
“You bet. Candy needs a little exercise.”
The girl ran back to the work of mucking out one of the birthing stalls as Annie heard a car crunching over the gravel driveway. Her heart beat furiously as Shea parked her truck.
“Sorry I’m late. I ran into Doc Yardley and we got to talking. But I remembered to bring the—”
Annie grabbed the bag of medicine from Shea’s outstretched hand. “I need to speak to you,” she said. “Inside. I’ll be right there.”
Shea’s expression had gone from pleasant to worried, but instead of shooting back questions, she simply closed the truck door behind her and headed for the cabin.
Annie trotted to Melanie, who was helping one of the kids distribute feed to the goats. “Can you watch things for me? Something’s come up.”
Melanie, who had once considered becoming a vet, agreed at once.
It struck Annie hard that she knew so much about this quiet woman who’d made such an impact at Safe Haven and with her students. In fact, Annie knew a great deal about many of the people in this quaint Montana town. She’d meant to avoid all this. To keep to herself. Getting involved hadn’t been part of the plan, and this was why.
She forced a smile for Melanie, then turned, wanting to run to the cabin. But it wasn’t that far, and she could use the extra minute to calm herself. Since she’d seen the picture, she’d worried about a million things that could go wrong, but she hadn’t bothered to think through what she was going to tell Shea. As little as possible, yes, but where was the line?
Shea looked up from the kitchen area when Annie walked inside. She was making a fresh pot of coffee. Annie wished she had something stronger.
“What’s wrong?”
“I need to ask you a favor.”
“Okay.”
Annie studied the woman she’d gotten too close to. “The picture you posted on the Sundance website, the one with me in it? I need you to take it down. Please.”
Shea didn’t react, not even a lift of her eyebrows. “All right,” she said calmly as she sat in front of Annie’s computer. Shea typed very quickly. Logging into the Sundance website, it took only a few clicks to find the photo and delete it.
Annie sighed with relief. “Did you put it up this morning?”
“No. Last night,” Shea said, returning to the desktop picture of the corral at sunset. “Late. Just before midnight.”
Twelve hours. Annie’s face had been freely available for twelve hours, but then the odds of someone from her past checking out the Sundance dude ranch website were miniscule. She didn’t think facial recognition had come far enough along to have identified her from her somewhat fuzzy profile. Still, the smart thing to do would be to get out. Now. Just in case. “Do you know how many hits that page had?”
Shea typed a bit more. “Eighteen.”
Eighteen wasn’t bad. Eighteen could be just folks from town and some of the guests.
“I won’t do that again,” Shea said. “I didn’t realize you disliked having your picture taken. I apologize.”
All Annie had to do was nod, and that would be that. Shea wouldn’t pry or tell anyone, with the possible exception of Jesse. They’d chalk it up to Annie’s reclusive ways.
But this was Shea, who had given her time, her skills, her money and her friendship without any expectations. She never overstepped, respecting Annie’s privacy in every way. Which would make leaving her in the dark the easiest thing ever.
The ache in Annie’s chest was no reason to talk, to say aloud the secrets she’d been holding close for so long. In her old life, she’d been anything but an introvert. And she’d never met a camera she hadn’t liked. “I used to be a professional fundraiser,” she said, and those few words, that small admission, revved up her heart rate again. Made her flush with heat and fear and relief.
Shea went to the coffeepot and took out two mugs from the cupboard above.
Annie closed her eyes and tried to calm herself. By the time Shea put both cups of coffee down, Annie felt ready to begin. “I was good at it. I liked the work, even after the economy tanked. I made raising money for good causes my personal crusade. Not just because I was paid to do it, but because I knew that even in the worst of times, when people donated it made them feel better.”
“Your effectiveness hasn’t diminished at all,” Shea said. “I can’t believe how fearless you are in approaching everyone you see and how favorably most of them respond.”
“People want to help. Well, most people.” Annie briefly closed her eyes. “There are also those who understand the motives behind charitable giving, and use that information to steal and destroy people’s faith and good intentions.”
“What are you saying?” Shea looked at her plainly, expecting the truth. She wasn’t naive, although some people mistook her manner for innocence.
“I worked with a partner who turned out to be one of the bad guys. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize he’d been embezzling funds until it was far too late to do anything.”
“Oh, Annie,” Shea whispered, and Annie had to turn away so she wouldn’t tear up.
“I had to leave my home. My everything.”
“Surely no one would believe you were involved. That’s ridiculous.”
“Oh, but they could.” Annie thought the bitterness had left her, but it still simmered inside. “I found out secondhand that one of my clients felt something wasn’t right and approached my partner. He wanted to withdraw the money from the fund and invest it himself. My partner gave him the runaround and the client went to the district attorney.”
She set her cup aside, rubbed her hands together, then down her jeans. The cabin was so small, there was no room to pace, but she couldn’t sit still. She pulled herself up until her butt was on the edge of the sturdy table she used for everything from sewing to eating, then began to squeeze the beveled wood with her hands.
“The story hit the papers with the allegation that my partner was responsible but I might be involved after the fact. It was only a matter of days before I’d be subpoenaed by the state to tell them what I knew. Unfortunately, that amounted to nothing. I was as shocked as anyone when I saw that money was missing. All of the investment profits had been siphoned off. The seed money was still there. I went to an attorney, a good friend from college, and he flat out told me that I’d better have something on my partner. With charities involved, he felt certain someone would go down, and it could very easily be me.”
Annie flexed her hands and tried to relax her body along with her speeding thoughts. She’d never intended to tell Shea so much. Only, she’d been holding on to her silence for so long it was easy to keep talking, to spill everything. But the next part…
The next part was hard to think about, let alone say out loud. Besides, she wanted Shea to continue working with Safe Haven. To continue being a friend. “I’m not proud of what I did, but all I could think to do was run.”
Shea sipped her coffee, clearly in thinking-things-through mode. When she looked at Annie again, her blue-gray eyes showed only concern. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. It must be horribly difficult. Do you have a large family?”
“Mom, Dad, my younger sister. I left them a letter explaining so they wouldn’t think I was dead. But I can’t call.”
“You must miss them.”
Annie sighed. “Every day.” She jumped down from the table and looked Shea in the eye. “Please, you have to keep this between us.”
“Of course.”
“Thank you.” Annie maintained eye contact, hoping Shea understood that meant not telling Jesse. “And thanks for taking down the picture without even asking why.”
Shea, who wasn’t a toucher, put her hand on Annie’s arm. “Whatever I can do to help, all you need is to ask.”
Annie wanted to hug her, but just nodded and led the way outside, remembering in the nick of time to get the bag of equine medication. Despite the chance someone from her past had seen her on the internet, she felt lighter than she had in years.
“I INVITED HIM TO COME LIVE here,” Irene said, just before she sipped her bourbon and sweet tea.
Tucker put down his fork. “What did he say?”
She sighed. “No.”
He wasn’t surprised. “He’s got a life in New York. Friends.”
“But we’re family.” Irene’s voice had gone rough, which wasn’t unusual however much he wished she could accept the situation.
“Christian needs time, Mom. It hasn’t been long since he found out his father refused to let you see him. Most of his life he thought you didn’t want him.”
“You stopped being angry ages ago, and Rory Andrews stayed away from you out of spite.”
“I had Dad. And you. I was lucky. Christian only had Rory and whatever stories he made up.” Funny how Tucker never thought of Rory as being related, much less his biological father. His hazy memory of the man didn’t even seem real, more like a fictional character in a story Tucker had read as a kid.
“You know I wanted to keep both of you.” She took another drink, and this time it wasn’t a mere sip. Soon she’d ask him for a refill, and he’d give her one. The drinking wasn’t a problem, though it could head that way if she wasn’t careful.
But how could he blame her? Tucker’s own guilt weighed on him, and he’d been a child during the divorce. Was that the reason his desire to find Leanna Warner had become a borderline obsession? Why he’d been tempted to go early, to hell with his commitments?
No, he had to play it smart. He’d already baited the hook by suggesting the possibility of a large donation to Safe Haven. He’d put time between the email he sent and the day he was to arrive. She wouldn’t be suspicious because no one looking for her would give her that much time to run. She’d accept that he was exactly who he claimed to be—a rep for a benevolent foundation.
All he had to do was be patient, observant and ready to take her down.
WELL PAST MIDNIGHT, TUCKER stretched his neck before he looked again at the papers he’d spread over the desk in his bedroom. Every one of them related to Leanna Warner, and every one of them intrigued him in a way that was keeping him awake despite his exhaustion.
She didn’t quite add up. Her parents had been and continued to be social climbers. Joseph Warner was an attorney who’d worked for one of the most prestigious firms in New York, but he’d never made partner. His wife was an assistant manager at a design firm, again, second tier, but living among the elite.
According to Christian, Leanna had fit in so well with the wealthy young Manhattan scions and entrepreneurs that he’d been shocked to find out that she was a fund-raiser. When he’d looked closer, though, he’d seen that her “designer” clothes and accessories were clever knockoffs. It was her personality and flair that let her get past all the normal barriers.
Christian would know about that kind of thing because he was in the same boat. His finance degree had gotten him only so far in a city that thrived on connections, but his audacity had helped make him a hell of an investment manager. No wonder the two of them had decided to team up. They each wanted a lifestyle that was just out of reach.
Reading the background material was helpful, but he had to check his bias at the door. If he let his emotions take the reins there was a risk he’d miss something important, or jump to conclusions. But there was no denying that Leanna was extremely clever.
On paper, she seemed the least likely person in the world to have stolen money. But if she’d had nothing to do with the fraud, why disappear? The logical conclusion was that she’d wanted to let Christian take the fall—except she hadn’t tied him to any real evidence. One transaction record, even an email referring to an offshore bank account, could have put Christian squarely in the bull’s-eye. Instead, Leanna had been forced into a life of hiding and his brother had just enough of a stain on his reputation to cripple his future.
Though she’d made off with over $500,000, she’d left each charity’s seed money in the account, which, he suspected, was a clever way to avoid notice. At least until the whistle was blown, and then things had happened quickly. She probably hadn’t had time to clean out the rest of the funds. But who could be sure of her reasoning?
So many discrepancies and oddities made it difficult to figure out her end game. Good thing Tucker was a patient man. He wouldn’t make the mistake of acting rashly. If she had something that would nail her, he’d find it. Then turn her over to the D.A. gift-wrapped all nice and pretty.
He turned off the computer and gathered his materials. Most of what he had were printouts, but there were also several articles from New York newspapers, two yearbooks, four different brochures that Leanna had created and a short stack of photographs. The alarm was going to ring in under six hours, and his agenda was full all the way through Sunday. He wished he wasn’t committed to the Rangers game, but it was more business than pleasure, so no choice there. It had been a long time since he’d been to a game for the fun of it.
He stripped down to his boxers and climbed between the sheets. As tired as he was, he should have been out like a light, but images of Leanna…Annie…kept spinning on a loop that wouldn’t quit.