Baby Daddy (12 page)

Reno smiled and nodded as we walked through the gaping doorway and into the lobby.

Now that the smoke had cleared I was able to see how truly lucky Liberty was.  One metal door had made it all the way across the room to the couches.  The other one had slipped off its precarious perch on the receptionist’s chair and desk and now lay flat on the floor, exactly where Liberty had been.  Everything in the lobby was soaked and the rank smell of smoke and burned wood mixed with a strong chemical overtone hung in the air.  It turned my stomach and I didn’t have time to excuse myself as I ran for the ladies room.  I barely made it to the toilet before everything I had eaten all day reappeared in a disgustingly altered form.

All night in the hospital I had been blowing black snot out of my nose and even now it ran down my face.  Weakly, I reached for some toilet paper and wiped my nose and mouth.  I rocked back on my knees and leaned against the wall.

I heard the door open but couldn’t summon the energy to look up to see who it was.  To my utter dismay, Christopher knelt down beside me and brushed my hair back from my face with a tenderness I wouldn’t have guessed he had.

“I should have known better,” he said gruffly.

“Just give me a minute.”  I tried to make my voice come out strong, but failed miserably.  “I’ll be okay.”

He sighed.  “I’m taking you home.  You need to rest and let your lungs clear.  Breathing this
stale air isn’t good for you.”

And probably not for my baby
, I thought, too miserable to protest any more.  I let Christopher help me to my feet.  I felt silly being escorted back across the warehouse and into his car, but I was swallowing back the nausea.  The last thing I wanted to do was to throw up in his precious Mustang.  That would make a lasting impression I could never overcome.

“I probably should have left you in the hospital,” he muttered, more to himself than to me as he pulled the seatbelt across me and snapped it into its lock.  He closed the door and circled to his side and got in.

I was barely aware of the scenery we were passing as I struggled to keep down what little was still in my stomach.  It seemed to take forever, but we finally parked in front of the mansion.

Not daring to speak
, I released the belt, opened the door and bolted for the house.

CHAPTER TWELVE

The sun was shining when I woke up.  I glanced at the digital alarm clock on the nightstand beside the bed and saw that it was 10:12.  Okay, that’s confusing.  Even on the longest day of summer, it gets dark at around 9 p.m.  I sat up abruptly.  Could it be 10:12 in the morning?

I threw the covers back, hopped out of bed and went to the window.  It was bright and sunny.  Someone I didn’t recognize was cleaning the pool.  There was no sign of Dallas, Tulsa, Reno or Christopher anywhere.

My intention to take a quick shower turned into a long, leisurely one.  My skin was feeling better and even my lungs weren’t aching with every breath I took.  I still couldn’t believe I had slept sixteen hours straight.  I must have needed it, because I felt so much better.  I had more energy, my eyes were no longer bloodshot
and the nausea was gone.  In fact, I was starving.

I dressed quickly in white slacks, then changed into turquoise ones instead.  With all the soot and dirt in the office, the white ones were probably a bad choice.  I picked a patterned top and a short-sleeved blazer to make the outfit look more business casual.  A pair of sandals completed the look
.  I grabbed my purse and phone and hurried downstairs, hoping everyone had held breakfast for me.

The house was unusually quiet.  Latino music blared from a radio outside, probably the property of the pool boy, but the sound barely penetrated the well-insulated walls.  I headed straight for the kitchen expecting the island to be overloaded with food.  I stepped into the room
and slid to a halt.

It was empty.  Not only were my step-siblings not there, but there was no food.  My stomach growled its disappointment.

The refrigerator was full of all sorts of things.  I took out a bowl of cherries, some watermelon and butter and set them all on the island.  I was looking around the room, trying to figure out where John stored the croissants or even plain white bread when he walked in.

“Killeen, you’re finally up,” he declared.

“I didn’t get much sleep in the hospital.  I guess I caught it all up at once,” I answered with a smile.  “Where is everyone?”

“Oh, they left hours ago.  They figured you would take the day off and hang out at the pool.”

“Well, they figured wrong!”  I was unreasonably angry that they had left me.  My logical side said that they had been kind and sensitive to my needs, but my illogical side said they were out having fun without me.

“Can I fix you something?  Some eggs and bacon?  A BLT?  Peanut butter and jelly?” John offered.

“I was hoping there were some of those delicious croissants left over.”

“Oh sure.”  John went to a little storage area that had a front like a roll-top desk.  He took out a
bakery box of croissants.  “One or two?”

My stomach growled again.  “Two.”

“Toasted or just warmed?”

“Just warmed would be fine.”  I sat at the island and watched as he put
the croissants in the warmer, then put a plate in front of me for the fruit.

I helped myself to the melon and cherries and started on them while I waited for the croissant
s.  He picked them up with tongs and placed them on my plate, then put a pot of fresh honey on the island.  I cut the flaky pastry open just enough to put some butter and honey inside, then gobbled them down.

John watched with amusement.  “Do you want something else?  I can grill you a
couple hamburgers or a side of beef?”

I laughed.  “No, I’d better let this settle.  I don’t really trust my stomach yet.
  But there is something I need.”

“Name it.”

“Keys to one of the cars in the garage.”

John’s eyebrows rose.  “If I may ask, where are you going?”

“To the office.”

“Do you know how to get there?”

I held up my cell phone.  “I have Waze.  It can take me anywhere.”  I hesitated, then asked, “Uh…can you give me the address?”

He went to the key
rack in the entry hall and returned with a set that he held out to me.  “It’s the red Mini-Cooper with a British flag on the roof.”

“Cool.  I always thought those were cute.”

He gave me the address and I typed it into the Waze navigation app.  “Thanks,” I told him.

A
lmost an hour later, I parked in front of the building.  I had vaguely noticed the new, solid metal front door yesterday, but now I got a good look at it.  They had it propped open to let the dust and fumes out, and I was able to see that it was several inches thick with a metal frame and a dead bolt that would withstand a tank assault.  Well, maybe not, but it looked pretty impenetrable to me.

I walked inside and looked around with surprise.  The place had undergone a miraculous change.  All the furniture
and artwork had been removed and new doors installed between the lobby and the warehouse.  The walls and ceiling had been cleaned.  On one end of the room a worker was painting on a layer of sealant while at the other end, someone was sanding the wood floors.  Sheets of plastic hung over the doorway to the office area to keep out as much debris and noise as possible.

It was almost noon and as soon as I lifted the plastic flap and entered the office hallway, I smelled the pizza.  I followed my nose and found every
one gathered around the table in the conference room.

“Pizza, without me?” I demanded, only partly teasing.

Reno pulled out the chair next to him.  “There’s plenty.”

Everyone called out their hellos as I sat down.  I decided not to make an issue of them leav
ing me.  “The place looks…and smells so much better,” I said as I helped myself to a piece of pepperoni and mushroom.

“They’re focusing on the lobby so we can
get back in business,” Reno told me.

“Even
Pam, our receptionist has the phones forwarded to her home until we get things straightened up,” Tulsa added.

We?  Our? 
Reno and Tulsa were talking about this place like they’d been owners for years.  I felt like Sleeping Beauty who had slept for so long that life had passed me by.

“We checked on you when we got home yesterday, but you were out like a light.  You missed a great meal at Carrab
ba’s last night,” Dallas told me.

“Sounds like I missed a lot
more than food since Sunday,” I commented wryly.  “Any news from the arson guys?”

“They said the report would be ready to
day.  They’re dropping by this afternoon,” Christopher informed us.

I looked up at him, but he seemed focused on the piece of pizza he was loading onto his paper plate.

“So, how do the books look?” Christopher asked Dallas.

“They’re tight,” Dallas answered between bites.  “
In fact, they could comply with Sarbanes-Oxley.  I’m no tax guy so I can’t speak to that part but operationally…this place is a friggin’ cash cow.  We’ll have to figure out what a fair salary is but there’s room for all of us.”

“Does the business have a lot of contract work or is it all walk-in business?” Tulsa asked.

“Scandals has about 270 active repeat customers, but I didn’t see many contracts…a lot of letters of agreement on rates, mark-ups and such.  But some of these clients have three-to-five different engagements going at the same time.  There was a construction loan taken out when we took over the entire building and expanded the office back in 2006, and that’s been mostly paid back.  It’s a cash business for sure, but they’ve kept pretty solid records.”

“How about you, Tulsa?
How bad is our set-up here, computer-wise?” Christopher asked.

“There are firewalls, but I found some holes.  If someone with a little skill wanted in, they could access your files and even lock you out,” she told him.

Christopher exhaled in a long breath.  “That’s not good.  Do you think you can fix it?”

Tulsa grimaced.  “I studied security last semester, and I think so.  I could probably call my professor if I hit something I don’t know.”

“Then get started right away.  But check with me before you call anyone, okay?”  Christopher finished his second slice and wiped his hands.  He glanced at his watch.  “The arson investigators should be here any minute.  Do you all want to sit in on the meeting?”

“I need to get back to the warehouse,” Reno said.  “The remediation company had good references, but there’s a lot of valuable things laying
around out there.  I need to keep an eye on them.”

“I’d rather get right on those security issues, if you don’t mind,” Tulsa said.

“I’ve got some files open that I’m in the middle of,” Dallas told them.

“No, you do what you need to.  I can take care of the arson report and let you know what’s on it later.”  Christopher stood.

“I can stay,” I volunteered, speaking up because he had obviously overlooked me.

“Oh, sure, if you want,” he answered, still not looking at me as he left the room
.  The others followed him out, and I busied myself cleaning off the table.  I carried the trash out to the big dumpster outside the building and tossed it in.

Christopher walked out and noticed the Mini.  “I wondered how you got here.  Very resourceful.”  He pulled his keys out of his pocket and pressed the remote.  I heard the gate sliding open.  “Why don’t you pull it around back where it’ll be out of the way
.”  It sounded like a question, but it was more of a strong suggestion.

“Sure,” I snapped and dug the keys out of my pocket.  Sooner or later he and I were going to have to have a talk.  If I was going to be a part owner, he had to stop treating me like a not-very-trusted employee.  I backed the Mini out with a squeal of its tires and zipped it around to the back with a little more speed than was necessary.  I needed an outlet for my frustration.

A fire department vehicle with ARSON INVESTIGATIONS printed on the door under the AFD logo was parked by the dumpster when I walked around through the gate and re-entered the front door.  I had decided to avoid the warehouse as much as possible since it probably still reeked.

A tall, attractive man got out of the car, and I stepped between him and Christopher and held out my hand.  “Hello, I’m Killeen Ames, one of the owners of Scandals, and this is my partner, Christopher Tate.  Thank you for getting that report to us so quickly.”

The man smiled at me and handed me a business card before he took my hand and shook it warmly.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Ames.  I’m Captain Price.  I don’t usually come out in the field like this, but Roger was a good friend to the AFD, so I wanted to do this one myself.”

I smiled back at him and then stepped aside so Christopher could take his turn.  I slid him a “gotcha” look, then led the way inside.  The two men shook hands and followed me.

A half hour later Captain Price left.  Christopher and I sat at the table in stunned silence.

“A bomb
!” I exclaimed still not believing it.  “Why would anyone want to hurt Liberty?”

“I don’t think she was the target.  In fact, since it was Sunday, I’d say whoever set it off expected this place would be empty.”

“That would mean they wanted to destroy Scandals?  But why?”

A strange look crossed Christopher’s handsome face and he frowned.

“What aren’t you telling us?” I asked, narrowing my eyes suspiciously.

He cleared his throat and looked away as if he was struggling with whether or not to answer my question.

“What’s going on here?  I think it’s time you shared some of that information you’ve been holding back.”

Christopher turned to me, his eyes locked into mine for the first time today.  “I don’t believe that Roger
overdosed.  I think he was murdered.”

Okay, I hadn’t seen that one coming.  I sat back in my chair and stared at Christopher, trying to discern if he was being honest or if he was taunting me.

The worried creases on his forehead confirmed that he wasn’t joking.

“Why?”
I had to ask.

Before he could answer, Tulsa and Dallas walked into the room an
d plopped down on chairs.

“Too many numbers,” Dallas groaned.

“Too much code,” Tulsa added her own complaint.

“Hey Dallas, could you get Reno?  Something has come up, and I think we should all hear it at once,” I suggested
, taking a cue from Christopher to turn it into more of a firm request.

Dallas’
instinct was always to question everything.  It was probably a trait that would make him a great lawyer, but it made him an annoying person to deal with on a daily basis.  However, he must have sensed the tension in the room because he got up, without protest, and left to get Reno.

“What’s this all about?” Tulsa asked.

“Roger might have been . . .,” I started to tell her but someone walked by in the hallway outside, and I stopped, deciding to wait for the others to join us.

Dallas returned with Reno.  Christopher nodded toward the door and Reno shut it behind him, then sat down.