Hide 'N Seek (4 page)

“Malcolm, meet Marklynn Brooks,” Beck said with some reluctance.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” Malcolm said, looking at Beck with a sly smile. He took Markie’s hand and held on to it a little too long for his liking. Why that bothered him he couldn’t say. “You’ll have to tell me about it later. I’m late for a meeting with IT. We’ll definitely meet again, Marklynn.”

“It’s Markie and I’m sure we will.” She smiled again, another breathtaking smile.

“Until then, Markie. Hold the elevator,” and with that Malcolm was gone, leaving them in the atrium staring at each other.

“What can I do for you, Marklynn?”

“It’s Markie. To begin with, you can tell me what happened to Sydney Brooks.”

“Sydney Brooks? I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Your first phone contact was five days ago. Phone records don’t lie. I think she had
information
you needed.”

With her emphasis on the word
information
, he made the connection. Was Sydney Brooks and Victoria Kelly the same person? If not, what happened to Victoria Kelly and why was Marklynn involved?

“Let’s go to my office.”

•  •  •

Markie let out a sigh of silent relief and followed Dalton Beck to the four sets of elevators that serviced the building from the main floor. At first she wasn’t sure how her plan was going to unfold.

After she’d found the pictures yesterday, she stopped by her office, had them scanned and put on a CD, then left Sydney’s computer for Jamie to see if he could get into her email account.

She had also spent the better part of the night, at home, online going through Beck Security Systems’ website. By the end of the night she was familiar with every page on the site and the executive team. Then she went through the file on Dalton Beck Jamie had left on her desk.

The only connection she could find between Sydney and Dalton Beck were the pictures. Armed with them this morning, she wanted answers and was determined she would not leave Beck Security Systems without them.

Her plan to show up unexpected and throw him off guard somehow wasn’t working. His body language was all about control. Confidence.

She glanced sideways at the man beside her as they stepped into the elevator when the doors opened. Even though the elevator was glass enclosed, his presence seemed to dominate the small space as he had at Sydney’s apartment.

The elevator stopped on the fourteenth floor and the doors opened with a swish. Markie followed Dalton down the hall past an office with Malcolm’s embossed nameplate affixed to the door, as well as a room which appeared to be a lounge area. They walked towards a corner office with Beck’s name on the door.

When she entered the office it wasn’t what she expected at all. There were two steps leading up to a raised seating area by the window where two black leather sofas faced each other. A chrome and glass coffee table was nestled on a white shag rug between the sofas.

“Have a seat,” he said without looking at her.

The rest of the office consisted of a long table that spanned one wall. There were several computers on the table that hummed to life when he powered them on. There were stacks of what looked like data printouts placed neatly on the floor and some on several metal shelves.

She watched him as he removed the two computer carrying cases from his shoulders and placed them and his briefcase on the table. There were no personal photos on his desk. The only pictures on the walls were that of security units and the company’s head office.

He wasn’t the typical executive she was used to, nor was he a suit person. She could tell. Dressed in navy slacks, his white shirt was unbuttoned at the neck. His brown complexion coupled with strong features gave him an almost warrior quality.

The scars on his neck only added to it and she found herself wondering if the scars were the result of the car accident. Jamie had briefly mentioned the accident in the file he’d prepared for her.

“Coffee?”

“No,” she said shaking her head. “Mr. Beck—”

“Just Beck.”

“You already know who I am so I’ll get to the reason I’m here. I’m looking into the disappearance of Sydney Brooks.”

“I need some coffee. Be right back.”

“You don’t have an assistant?”

“I get my own coffee,” he said and shot her one of those you-should-have-known better-than-to-ask-that-question look.

She watched Mr.
I-get-my-own-coffee
leave the room and return a few minutes later with a cup that said, “I’m the boss.” There was no doubt in her mind he was the boss. It was probably his way or not at all.

Beck placed the cup on the coffee table and sat on the sofa across from her. The aroma of coffee filled the air. It seemed he didn’t believe in small talk when he returned to their conversation.

“As I told you downstairs, I’ve never heard of Sydney Brooks.”

“She called you.”

“I can assure you, Ms. Brooks, I never heard of Sydney Brooks until you mentioned her name.”

“Then you know her as Victoria Kelly.”

“You’re here because you have something or you think you know something. Get to the point.”

Markie could always tell when someone was lying, usually by their body language or their response to questions, but not with Dalton Beck. It bothered her that she couldn’t read him. She reached into her purse for the envelope she had found in Sydney’s bathroom vent, removed the pictures and dropped them on the coffee table in front of him. They scattered across the table. Beck’s expression didn’t change but there was a new tone in his voice when he spoke.

“Where…did you get these?” Beck leaned forward picking up the pictures. He looked at each picture then placed them back on the table and sat back into the sofa. “Let me guess, you want money?”

“I’m not in the habit of blackmailing people. All I want to know is where my sister is.”

“I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”

He divided his attention between her and the pictures on the coffee table. The stone-like expression settled on his face again.

Markie watched him closely, but he wasn’t revealing anything he didn’t want her to know. She thought she saw him react to one of the pictures but wasn’t sure which one. Sydney had disappeared because of the pictures. She was sure of it and decided to run with the idea brewing in her mind to see if he would let anything slip.

“You want to know what I think.”

“No, but since you’re going to tell me anyway, go ahead. I wouldn’t want to deprive you of the pleasure.”

“I think you knew about the pictures. Sydney called you about them and that’s why you went to her apartment.” He didn’t even so much as bat an eye as she laid out her conclusion. He just sat there and stared at her as if she was speaking in a foreign tongue. Tough. She had a lot more to say. “The thug you sent to trash the place didn’t find them so you went back to see if you could. Is that it?”

“You have a very active imagination. I’ll tell you again I’ve never met or spoken to Sydney Brooks.”

“What were you doing at her apartment?” Markie pressed. “And don’t give me that lunch date crap because you’re not her type.”

That brought his eyebrows up but that was it.

“I’ve no interest in whatever type or category you’ve decided to slot me into. I’ve a full day. If you’ll excuse me…”

He stood up. Conversation was over, but she wasn’t finished.

“I could’ve gone to the police with the pictures,” Markie said deciding to play one more card. The police card. That usually got people talking, but not him.

Beck looked down at the pictures but didn’t respond right away. Dark eyes with a flicker of curiosity bored into hers. “Why didn’t you?”

“Because I don’t want them interfering with my investigation. It’s none of my business what you or your company is up to. All I care about is my sister. You know where to find me if you want to come clean.”

“Don’t forget your pictures,” Beck said when she got up and walked towards the door.

“You can keep them. I have copies. Call it insurance just in case I disappear.”

She felt his gaze on her back as she left his office. When she got into the elevator and the doors closed, she slumped against the wall and closed her eyes. She was glad she didn’t get the glass elevator.

Markie was shaking. What had she done? What if Beck knew where Sydney was and… She hadn’t slept in almost twenty-four hours and was making mistakes. Second—guessing herself was something she tried not to do because in her line of work it could mean the difference between life or death, hers or her clients’, and in this case, Sydney’s life.

She pushed death from her mind as she left Beck Security Systems. Sydney was still alive, she told herself, and she was going to find her.

•  •  •

“Malcolm, get in here,” Beck yelled into the phone then slammed it down on the desk and sank into the leather chair.

He looked at the pictures Marklynn had left behind again. The one with the woman leaning against the van caught his attention. The moon shining through the trees cast a shadow across her face. There was something familiar about her…the way she stood with her head cocked to the right. Maybe he was just grasping at straws. People didn’t come back from the dead.

“What happened that has gotten you so riled up?” Malcolm asked when he entered Beck’s office. “If this is about Lincoln Heights, I took care of it.”

“It’s not about Lincoln Heights.”

Malcolm’s eyes drifted to the pictures on Beck’s desk.

“Marklynn left these behind.” Beck handed the pictures to Malcolm.

His eyes widened as he looked at the pictures then back at Beck. “Where did she get these? Is she trying to blackmail you?”

“I don’t think so. She said she’s trying to find her sister, Sydney Brooks.”

“Sydney Brooks? Why would she think you have anything to do with her sister’s disappearance?”

“Because I think Victoria Kelly and Sydney Brooks is the same person.”

“I don’t get it. Why would Victoria lie about her name?”

“I don’t know, but I want you to find out everything you can about Sydney Brooks/Victoria Kelly. I want to find her before Marklynn does.”

“She may not find her,” Malcolm said with doubt in his voice. “You said the woman vanished.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t bet on it. She found me. Marklynn appears to be very good at what she does. She’s a private investigator.”

“Private investigator?”

“Yes. Maybe she’s working for her sister. Although, I don’t know…Sydney’s place was trashed when I got there.”

“Beck—”

“I want to know who took the pictures and why. If Sydney is involved with what’s going on here, which I believe she is, why my company?”

“Don’t you think you’re going a little overboard?” Malcolm said, looking at him as if he’d lost his mind.

“No.” He thought about the other accounts that they were barely holding on to. How many accounts would they lose before they caught
Shadoe
?

“You know at some point you’re going to have to admit we need outside help,” Malcolm said. “We can’t run the company by ourselves and you can’t go around playing detective. Why would you even go to Victoria’s, or whatever her name is, apartment? You’re lucky Markie didn’t call the police on you yesterday and have you charged with breaking and entering.”

Beck knew Malcolm was right, but he wanted to get the person responsible for sabotaging his company. He wasn’t going to stand by and have it all taken away from him.

He’d grown up with nothing because his mother’s illness had bankrupted his father. His divorce from Monika had almost cost him everything, but he’d managed to hold on to his company. He was not going to start over again. Not this time.

“What about the pictures?” Malcolm asked, looking at the pictures again before handing them back to Beck.

“Leave that to me.”

“I can look into it,” Malcolm offered. “One less thing for you to worry about.”

“No. You have enough on your plate.” Beck started going through the pictures again, then fanned them out on his desk. “Do you recognize anyone?” He didn’t point to any particular picture and was hoping Malcolm would put his fears to rest. “Have a look again.”

“No. What is it? What are you seeing?”

“I’m not sure.”

I
t was hot.

Markie didn’t mind the tropical heat as she stretched out on the beach towel. She could feel the hot sun against her skin as she listened to the waves crashing against the shore and the palm trees swaying in the gentle breeze.

Moments ago she’d emerged from the turquoise water in her Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Yellow Polka Dot Bikini. There was nothing shy about her and she certainly wasn’t afraid to come out of the water. She began humming the popular song from the sixties then started to laugh.

She should reapply the sunblock. After all, that was what one did after a swim. Sitting up she poured a generous amount of lotion in her hands and rubbed them together. She started with her arms, first the right then the left, and proceeded to her legs. After she was satisfied that her front was covered, she started on her back. Stretching her arm over her shoulder to reach her back wasn’t getting the job done.

“Allow me,” someone said.

The voice was soft, smooth and sexy. She recognized the voice but couldn’t remember his name. Why worry about a name anyway? She had no responsibilities. No responsibilities meant freedom. She had all the time in the world.

Markie didn’t turn around. Just handed him the lotion over her shoulder and waited. He moved his hand in a circular motion starting from the nape of her neck, each shoulder getting equal attention, and then he moved towards the center of her lower back… The lotion was cold when it hit her skin but heated up within seconds.

She was mesmerized by his touch and she closed her eyes, allowing him to take her on an erotic journey of exploration where his hand moved across her skin leaving a trail of heat. When his lips replaced his hand, they mimicked what his hand had done a few minutes ago. He kissed her neck and shoulder, moving around to her face. She felt as though she was on fire but it wasn’t from the heat of the sun.