Beyond the Consequences: Book 5 of the Consequences Series (Volume 5) (15 page)

Nichol shrugged.

“You know that with your momma, me, Shannon, Mr. Phil, Mr. Eric, and Miss Taylor, you’re the safest little princess in the whole world, don’t you?”

Nichol nodded. “You’re not there.”

“Where, honey? Where aren’t we?”

“In my room. I’m all by myself. I heard somefing…” Her brown eyes widened. “…under my bed.” She leaned into Tony’s chest. “I think I should sleeps wif you.”

Claire grinned above Nichol’s head, her gaze meeting Tony’s. “Honey,” Claire began, “we’ve talked about this. You have your own bed. This is Momma and Daddy’s bed.”

“I don’t like my bed. I like yours.”

“We like ours too, princess. But it isn’t big enough for all of us.”

Nichol’s dark hair swung over her eyes as her head moved dramatically from side to side. “It is. See, I fits right here.”

Though Claire wanted Nichol to feel safe, their child psychologist had been very clear on her opinion of children sleeping in their parents’ bed. Giving in, even one time, she’d warned, and a pattern would be set. “How about Daddy and I take you back to your room. Daddy will check under your bed and make sure there isn’t anything there making noise. Then we can snuggle with you and read one more story? Will that make you feel better?”

Nichol shrugged again. “Why can’t I stay here? I promise I won’t wiggle.”

Tony laughed as he playfully tickled their daughter. Her pouting lips sprang into a smile as her legs and arms began to flail. “You won’t wiggle? You won’t wiggle?” he asked jokingly. “You’re doing a lot of wiggling right now.”

“Stop, Daddy!” Nichol managed through her roars of laughter.

“Tony, she’s never going to go back to sleep—”

His grin and wink came as his hands stopped tickling and Nichol’s pleas turned to a sigh. “Miss Rawlings,” Tony said as he eased back the covers, stood, and offered Nichol his hand. “It seems as though you have in fact wiggled. That means it’s time for your momma and me to escort you back to your own room.”

Though she worked hard to pout, her big dark eyes sparkled with adoration. “You’ll look under my bed?”

“Yes, I promise.”

With that, Nichol stood on the bed and flung herself into Tony’s arms. “You have to read me one more story too.”

“I do? I thought that was Momma’s job.”

“Nope,” Nichol replied as Claire donned her robe and the three of them made their way out the door. Stepping into the corridor, she continued, “Momma’s gonna listen, just like me.”

Low lights led the way from the master bedroom suite to Nichol’s room, only one door down and across the hall. Turning on the light on her bedside stand, Tony handed Nichol to Claire before bending down and searching beneath the skirt of the canopy bed. Nichol buried her head in the crook of Claire’s neck as Tony announced, “Oh my.”

“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 information 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.”