No One Lives Twice (A Lexi Carmichael Mystery) (15 page)

“What was interesting?”

“That was a friend of mine from the State Department. I asked him to check out whether Basia used her passport recently.”

“Good thinking. Did she?”

He nodded. “She left the country last Tuesday.”

I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. “She went abroad?” I said, pretty certain I now knew where she would be going. “Let me guess. She headed to Poland.”

He shook his head. “No. To Berlin.”

“Berlin?” I said in surprise.

“As in the capital of Germany.”

“I know where Berlin is,” I said, rolling my eyes.

Finn leaned back in his chair and studied me. “Does Basia speak German?”

“Of course she speaks German, among a hundred other languages. But why would she go to Berlin?”

“Berlin is in the center of Europe. Been there a couple of times myself. Does she have any friends there?”

“Basia has friends of every nationality on every continent on earth. She’s the friendliest person I know. But she’d never go to Europe without bragging to me about it first.”

“It seems like she just did.”

I frowned. “I’m really not liking this at all.”

Finn tapped his finger against the table. “I’m more inclined to believe she used Berlin as a springboard. Frankly, she could be anywhere in Europe now, including Poland.”

“Actually, I’m leaning toward that theory myself,” I said.

Finn looked at me expectantly. “Does this have anything to do with the phone call you just made in the bathroom?”

“It does. Judyta Taszynski happens to be Basia’s cousin.”

“Her cousin?” Finn said, clearly startled.

“On her father’s side.”

“Who did you call to find this out?”

“Basia’s mom,” I said.

“Good thinking.”

“Got an address and a phone number for Judyta?” he asked.

“Nope. She’s not living at home anymore. Apparently she had a falling out with her folks over the whole pregnancy thing.”

“I don’t think she would have run back there anyway,” Finn mused.

“Why not?”

“Because it would have been the first place they’d have looked for her.”

“
They
being the people who want this entire matter to disappear?”

“Exactly,” he told me.

“And what if
they
already found her?”

Finn looked grim. “They haven’t, at least I don’t think so. But not for lack of trying. While I was on my boss’s computer, I saw an email dated yesterday to a private detective the company has apparently hired to find her.”

I whistled under my breath. “A private detective? Do you think they’ve traced her connection with Basia like we have?”

“I think it would be safe to assume that.”

“Look, you don’t think Judyta is in any real danger do you?”

“I don’t know. I can’t imagine why. On the other hand, men with guns have accosted you twice. It doesn’t take a genius to suspect something illicit is happening.”

I let out a deep breath. “I think Basia is with Judyta somewhere. My gut tells me she’s trying to help her cousin.”

“I concur. But I’m not sure what to do next.”

I studied him carefully. “I don’t understand why you just don’t quit CGM. Walk away from all of this. Preserve your reputation. Because if you stay, there’s always the chance you might be set up to take the fall if anything rotten comes out of this.”

His expression sobered. “Yes, I’m fully aware that I could be implicated in some way, whether I knew what was going on or not. I’m more concerned that if I leave, evidence could be fabricated against me. If I stay and they think I’m being an obedient little employee, I might be able to obtain evidence to keep me in the clear. Right now, I have no solid proof of any wrongdoing, just a hunch. That, of course, won’t hold up in a court of law.” He exhaled a deep breath. “But beyond that if Judyta or Basia are in trouble, I feel partially responsible.”

“How can you feel responsible? You never even officially worked on this case. After all, Harold Small passed it on to you in a rather unconventional manner.”

“Which means Harold was likely disturbed by all this, as well. Lawyers just don’t go around hiding company documents in safety deposit boxes. I’ve got a bad feeling. Lexi, there’s more at stake here than just a surrogate pregnancy arrangement gone wrong.”

“I’m with you on that,” I said, feeling more depressed by the minute. “Finn, I heard that Bright Horizons recently went through some financial difficulties. Is that true?”

He looked at me in surprise. “How did you know that?”

“My mother. Her ear is constantly pressed to the rumor mill, especially when it involves money. I guess she’s friends with Miriam Sandberg, wife of the founder of Bright Horizons.”

Finn reached for his wine glass. “It’s true. The company was in trouble because a couple of federal research grants didn’t pan out. But they managed to turn around the decline a few months later.”

“How?”

“I don’t work in bookkeeping, but I presume the infertility business picked up.”

“Or maybe a booming surrogacy business.”

“Maybe. But there is nothing illegal about it, if done right, so why hide it? And why are men with guns so anxious to get back a generic copy of a document that doesn’t even provide names?”

“I don’t know. You said there are legal pitfalls to such arrangements.”

“Yes, but that wouldn’t cause a good man like Harold to hide documents in a safety deposit box.”

I considered that for a moment. “All right, let’s look at this from another angle. You. Harold put
your
name on those documents for a reason. So, let’s try thinking about how you fit into all this. How did you come to work at CGM in the first place and is it typical for companies to hire their own staff of lawyers versus contracting a firm?”

Finn shrugged. “In smaller companies, law firms are typically contracted. But some larger companies prefer to have their own lawyers on the payroll. There are a few middle-aged lawyers at CGM who have been around ten or more years, but the rest of us are relatively young and basically see Horizons as a stepping stone to other more lucrative and exciting jobs. Personally, I took a job at Horizons because I like the close proximity to Washington and because I’m interested in biotechnology. Not to mention it’s a relatively stress-free environment since contract law is fairly boring compared to criminal law.”

“Until now,” I pointed out.

“Well, until now.”

“So, what kind of work do you typically do at CGM?”

“Routine work. Drawing up contracts, reviewing regulations and making certain that clients can’t sue us for a number of real or perceived infractions.”

“What about international clients?”

“The same, only these clients need to have their contracts, questions and various information translated for them.”

“And that’s how Basia became involved in all this.”

“Yes.”

I exhaled a deep breath. “So, if no names were involved, how would Basia have made the connection that the contract she was working on was for her cousin?”

“I don’t know. Are we sure she did?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure of anything. You said you’re pretty certain Judyta is pregnant. I thought the contract would have been drawn up before the actual procedure took place.”

“This wasn’t a typical contract. This was a contract for what happens
after
the insemination and adhesion takes place—a contract stipulating the actions of the mother after impregnation. This is way out of our jurisdiction. Frankly, I’ve never seen a contract like it. Had I known about it, it certainly would have been against my legal advice for CGM to involve itself in any way.”

I fell silent, thinking over his answers while Finn sipped his wine and then rubbed the back of his neck.

“Did you have any unexpected visitors today?” he asked.

I thought of Slash, but I knew Finn was referring to Beefy or Mr. Middle Eastern Guy.

“Not yet. Did you find out whether Beefy had been sicced on me by your firm?”

“Well, it’s not like I can just stroll up and ask whether the company hired an armed thug to harass you.”

“Yeah, that’s a tough one.”

We talked for a short while longer and finished our dinner. I had to leave fairly soon after that to swing by home and change into sweats and a T-shirt so I could make it to karate on time. Finn walked me to the car, keeping his fingers safely in his pockets. This time he only brushed a soft kiss on my cheek. I don’t know why I had been hoping for more, but I had.

“Good night, Lexi,” he said softly. “Be safe and keep in touch.”

“You, too,” I said, hoping I didn’t look too disappointed.

I drove home thinking about all he had said and what I should do next. When I got upstairs the red light on my alarm was still blinking. I tossed my bag on a chair and checked the phone. There were two messages.

I rewound the tape and listened to the first message. It was my mom saying she’d made reservations for four people next week on my birthday at a swanky French restaurant called Le Rhone. Good thing they were paying.

The second message was from Basia. I dropped in a chair as soon as I heard her voice.

“Lexi, it’s Basia. I just wanted to let you know I’m fine. I’m trying to help a friend who has gotten into trouble. We’re trying to sort it all out now. I hope you’re keeping those documents safe for me. They could be important. Sorry to be such a pain.” There was a pause and for a moment I thought she had hung up. Then I heard her continue.

“By the way, if a guy named Finn Shaughnessy contacts you don’t tell him anything. He’s not trustworthy. I’ll try to call again soon. Love ya.”

Dazed, I listened to the message again. Finn, not trustworthy? Thanks a lot for telling me
now.

I leaned back in the chair and thought about it. Actually, it really wasn’t shocking news. After all, Finn himself admitted that Basia probably didn’t trust him because he was a part of CGM. In the end, I guess I hadn’t completely trusted Finn either because I didn’t tell him I still had the documents on a computer file. Nor had I asked him if the word
Acheron
meant anything to him. So maybe I was instinctively working this more carefully than I thought.

However, I was a bit peeved that Basia didn’t offer a single clue as to where she was, whether or not she was with Judyta, and how I could reach her. Regardless it was a relief to hear, at the very least, that she was safe. And if I was right about her being with her cousin, then by extension Judyta was safe, as well.

Sighing, I changed into sweats and a T-shirt and scraped my hair back into a ponytail. Grabbing my bag, I went to my car. I seemed to be spending a lot of time there lately.

I drove straight to Anderson’s Karate Academy in Laurel. Tonight it was all lit up and there were a bunch of cars parked in the lot. When I walked into the studio, I saw about twenty kids aged anywhere from five to fifteen. The only adults were parents. This didn’t look like a good ratio to me.

But before I could back out, Lars spotted me. A big grin crossed his face as he strode across the room to greet me. He pumped my hand, towering over me like a great Swedish bear.

“Good to see you, Lexi,” he said. “I knew you’d come.”

I shrugged like it was no big deal. “Are other adults coming?” I asked hopefully. No way was I going to do this alone with a bunch of kids and their parents watching.

He nodded. “She’s right behind you.” He waved a hand. “Shelley, come over here, would you?”

I turned and saw a tall woman with brown hair and big hips coming our direction. She had freckles, bushy eyebrows and a friendly, bucktooth smile. “Hi,” she said, offering me her hand. “I’m Shelley Hamilton. Are you a new student?”

She had a firm handshake and looked pretty intimidating in the karate outfit. “I don’t know yet. I’m not sure I’m cut out for this,” I confessed.

“I only come because my son Jeff is in the class,” she confided. “I thought I could get some exercise and it would be a great chance for us to do something together.” She pointed to a young boy with brown hair and freckles, about ten years old.

How cool is that, I thought. Mother and son doing karate together. I couldn’t imagine
my
mother ever doing anything like that.

“It’s actually pretty fun,” Shelley said. “And gives your muscles a real workout.”

My muscles could use a good workout, so I decided to give it a try. “All right,” I said to Lars. “I guess I’m up for this.”

He smiled. “I knew you would be,” he said as Shelley walked away to a wall where she began stretching her legs.

“By the way,” I asked Lars as casually as possible. “Have you heard from Basia?”

He shook his head. “No. But this is her class, so she might yet show up.”

Fat chance of that, I thought, but weirder things had happened. Especially to me.

Lars walked away and I watched him, willing the connection between him and Basia to leap out at me. I could feel I was missing something here, a link outside of karate that the two of them would have. I wasn’t buying Lars’s suggestion that she signed up for spiritual or physical reasons. Perhaps she had done it for self-defense, but it seemed more likely to me that she’d buy a gun instead. Exercise was definitely a matter of last resort for Basia. Moreover, as handsome as Lars might be, I didn’t believe she had enrolled in karate to initiate a possible romantic encounter or relationship. Miss Popularity could easily have attracted his attention without enrolling in his class. Anyway I’m positive she would have mentioned him to me. We
always
told each other things like that. There was clearly more here than met the eye and I was determined to find out what it was.

But first I had to survive my class.

Lars had all of us sit on the floor for stretches. I discovered pretty quickly that I was about as flexible as a brittle stick. The kids were like little pretzels and even Shelley was fairly adept at moving her body into the positions required. Just sitting on the floor and spreading my legs in a straddle was primordial torture for me.

What came after was nothing short of a nightmare. Lars called them muscle strengtheners. I called them circus contortions and was pretty sure the human body had not been made to do the twists and stretches he demonstrated. Just when I thought I might die stuck with my leg wrapped around my neck, he told us to sit cross-legged and take ten deep breaths. Thank God, I could at least do that.

But I couldn’t manage the thirty push-ups. I couldn’t even manage one. I had to do them with my knees touching the ground because my puny arms weren’t strong enough to push my unwieldy body off the floor. It was pretty darn humiliating.