Captured Lies (16 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Guy hid behind the book shelves, watching Bailey. Seeing her
so distressed was almost enough to make him jump out of his hiding place and go
to her aid. That, however, was not going to help him figure out what was going
on. Instead, he made his way to another computer desk, keeping an eye on her
from behind the high walls of the cubby. He had to find out what she was up to
and why she felt the need to ditch him. He watched her for twenty minutes.
Every few minutes she would shift. She’d lean forward then back, sit up and
then slouch. Put her leg under her and then set both feet flat on the floor. No
matter what she did though, her shoulders were sagging more and more. She was
fighting the exhaustion that was pulling her down. Her elbow found the desk and
her chin found her hand. After the third time of her head bobbing sideways,
jerking to keep herself upright, she finally gave up. She stood up and left.

Tempted to follow her and make
sure she was okay, he first needed to see what she’d been up to. He sat down at
her computer. The search bar showed that she’d been trying to find some
newspapers from a long time ago, twenty-nine years to be exact. She’d either
never spent much time on the internet or had never really searched anything on
the web before. She didn’t seem to know what she was doing. He conceded that
exhaustion might have played a part in it. Not wanting to spend too much time
as he wasn’t sure she’d make it back alone, he was about to log off when he
noticed the Jump Drive sticking out of the computer. He quickly scanned the
folders on. Clicking on several of them, he found that they were encrypted.
Something told him this had been what she’d been looking at, or at least trying
to.

There were some answers there but
first he had to check on his roomy. He logged off, took out the USB drive and
hurried out the door, following Bailey back to the room. He made sure he stayed
far enough behind to keep an eye on her but not too obviously. At the hotel he
gave her ten minutes to play out her ruse of being in the hot tub, before he
showed up.

Entering the room, he realized immediately
he hadn’t needed to wait. She was zonked out, lying across the bed fully
clothed. Being a gentleman warred with his knowing she would be pissed. It was
going to get him in trouble but he knew that she would be much more comfortable
out of her clothes. He reached for her pants and undid them. The slight tremor
in his hands surprised him as he slid the jeans down her long, slim legs. He
tossed them aside. Reaching for the hem of her shirt he slid it up slowly,
trying not to jar her or awaken her. Or look at the soft smooth skin he was
uncovering. He tried to keep his eyes averted or at least his mind but it was a
losing battle. His hands shook; his pulse pounded as he slid the blankets out
from under her and covered her up. It was difficult to not notice the sexy cut
of her underwear nor the fact that it wasn’t silk. Something she should have
been wearing all her life. Guilt was eating at him. He knew he wasn’t
responsible for her being taken, yet he got to live in luxury while she hadn’t.
Even though she’d been the one on the streets, everything about her reminded
him that those were really his roots. They weren’t really meant to be hers.

With a last look at her, he
slipped out to the hallway. He called Graham.

“Hey, good to hear from you.
Where are you?”

“Edmonton. Is Stanson done with
that sketch?”

“Yup. Check your email. Since I
hadn’t heard from you in twenty some hours I went ahead and ran the sketch. No
hits yet so it might be off. What else have you got?”

Guy quickly ran through what had
occurred since they’d last talked.

“Holy Christ, man. This isn’t fun
and games any more. Time to bring in the police.”

Guy’s hand scrubbed down over his
face. He shook his head to try to erase the tiredness that was wrapped around
him like a weighted cloak. “I know but…”

“I know you don’t know what to
tell them right? Let me call Bean.”

“He’s still on the police force?”

“He might be old but he’s a good
detective. I’ll fill him in and see what he wants to do.”

He wasn’t the person Guy would
have chosen but he knew that he was good friends with Graham’s family.
Detective Holstein felt he owed them for Graham’s dad having saved his life a
couple of times. The man had been looking for a way to redeem himself. “Have
him call me before he includes anyone else in this circus. I don’t know who I
can trust.”

“Will do. Check the email. Keep
in touch every couple of hours. Okay?”

“Yeah. I’ve got something else I
have to do right now too, I’ll call you later.” Clicking off the phone, he
wasn’t sure why he hadn’t shared about the jump drive. Holding it tightly in
his hand, he crossed the street and entered the library.

An hour later he was yawning so
much that he felt like his face was permanently going to be deformed and he
couldn’t figure out how the guy had encrypted the information. None of it was
making sense. He was about to go back and get some sleep when a moment of
clarity hit him. Within ten minutes he’d broken the code. Flipping through
files, his eyes widened, as he skimmed through them. Yawning like he was never
going to stop, he realized he wouldn’t be able to get through all the folders.
Copying and pasting, he sent several to Graham to look over, along with how to
break the code, knowing full well Graham probably would have gotten in faster
than he had but he wanted to save some time. He then sent all the ones he’d
read and reviewed in an email to himself.

If it was all true, which he
feared it was, many people were going to be embarrassed, some charged and maybe
even lynched if this information fell into certain hands. The one thing it
didn’t do was tell him how this all tied in with Bailey.

As he sent the last email to
Graham he realized he hadn’t looked over the artist’s drawings of his suspect.
As he scrolled through the five he’d received in his email, he picked out what
he thought was the right picture and where he needed to make changes. He cc’d
Graham to start searching when he got the new sketching back.

It was time for bed. He’d put it
off too long. He had one more phone call to make. After leaving a message for
Graham to find him one bit more of information, he propped his elbows on the
desk and rested his chin on his palm. He just needed to close his eyes for a
moment…

“Excuse me. Excuse me.” Someone’s
hand was on his shoulder, shaking him. Annoyed but still in that really groggy
state of sleep, he jerked away.

“Excuse me!”

He snapped upright as that was
screamed in his ear. Startled, he jerked around. A middle-aged woman holding a
book, like she knew how to swing it, was staring at him in disgust. Heat instantly
infused his face.

“No sleeping here.”

“I’m sorry. I was…”

“Just get out. We don’t allow
bums in here.”

What?
Guy shook his head
but stood up and moved away from the crazy lady and headed outside. He placed
his hands on his back and arched backwards. His spine realigned itself with a
ddrrrrrr-ddrrrr sound. As he straightened, a woman and a man walked by, smiled
at him indulgently and slipped something into his hand. Confused he watched
them leave and then looked down as they moved away. They’d given him a five
dollar bill. He looked at them and then he looked down. His attention was
snagged by the dirt and grime ground into his jeans. He burst out laughing. He
hadn’t gone shopping and it was now a must. People were mistaking him for a
homeless guy or someone really down on his luck. He took a deep breath in, his
nose wrinkling as he did. He even smelled like one. No time like the present to
go and get some clean clothes, if they’d let him in the store.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE

“Hello.” Bailey managed to garble out that greeting, as she
pressed the cell phone to her ear and snuggled back down under the blankets.

“Uh huh... yeah... sure... yeah...
bye.” She clicked her phone off, clasped it in her hand and let herself drift
again. When she was just on the verge of sleep, the conversation she’d just had
floated through her head.

“Hello, Bailey. It’s Mr.
O’Sullivan from CBC. How are you today?”

“We just wanted to confirm
that you’ll be here this Friday, 10:00 a.m. at our office?”

“Will you need to be picked up
at the airport?”

“If you send us your itinerary,
I’ll make sure a car is there to pick you up.”

She shot upright, her mouth
hanging open. “Oh, my God. What did I just do?” Swearing, she jumped out of bed
and was about to go flying into the bathroom, when her awareness expanded to
take in where she was and what was going on.

“Good morning.” Guy waved at her
from the hot tub. “I take it that phone call wasn’t good?”

She whirled around, becoming
instantly aware she was only wearing a bra and panties but it was nothing more
than a fleeting thought as the impact of the phone call hit her full force. She
slammed her hands onto her hips. “It’s the phone call I’ve been waiting for.
But am I ready for it? No, I’m half asleep. Why? Because I’ve been traipsing
all over the place, trying to find out who I am. Not because I’m lost but
because some nut job thinks I am.”

“You’re not really a morning
person, are you?”

“What?” She marched over to the
edge of the tub. “Listen. I’ve had just about all I can take from you and this BS
you’ve been spouting. That call was my real life. They want me on Friday of
this week. Am I going to make it? Jeez, I don’t know. Let me see it’s now… What’s
today?” Looking down, she realized she still had her phone in her hand. She
looked at the date and time.

“Great. This is just great.” She
walked across the room and back. “I have four days to fly back to Vancouver,
pack my apartment, fly to Toronto and be ready to start my new job.” She
shrugged and made an exaggerated face about how that wasn’t impossible. Her
eyes zeroed in on him. “And who do I have to thank for this?”

Walking over to the curtains, she
flung them open.
My life’s gone to hell and nobody asked me what I wanted.
She pressed her hand to her chest as her churning emotions weren’t sure which
direction they were going to go – laugh until she peed, cry until she peed, or
punch the daylights out of anyone or anything that got in her way.

“You have a new job?”

She felt like someone had just
put a pin in her. She dropped down into a chair as all her energy fizzled out.
“Yeah.”
I'm supposed to have my own TV show. Or at least that was the plan.
She'd
worked so hard at not only being a really good Interior Designer but at getting
this show. Ironically, she hadn't known how she had been going to tell her mom.
Now she didn't have to worry. The pain of that was too much to think about. She
turned her gaze to stare at the blue sky and tall high rises out the window.

“Want to tell me about it?”

She jumped, as she realized he
was right beside her. She turned to address him, only he was right there - all
of him. Her heart started to thump wildly, as her gaze tracked the lone trail
of a water droplet coursing slowly down his well muscled chest over a flat
stomach, to be absorbed in a thick, white terry cloth towel.

“Hmmm.”

“Care to do something about
that?”

“Huh?” she said, absently. Her
hand slipped up to rest against her throat.

He bent down in front of her,
catching her gaze. Her eyes opened wide as she met the spark of interest in
his.

“Oh, no. No.” She moved to stand
behind a chair.

“Hey, I’m not the one who started
this.”

“Started what?”

“Running around naked.”

“I’m not naked, dammit. You’re
the one who stripped me.” She glared at him.

“Excuse me all to hell.”

“Besides you’re the one who’s
just hot out of a steaming bath, dripping water all over, looking like you
stepped out of Play Girl.”

“Read that a lot, do you?”

She thrust her nose in the air
and sailed past him. “I’m going for a shower. You do whatever you need to do.”

She almost made it too but his
hand snapped out at the last second, grabbing her forearm. He pulled her close.
The steam from the two of them would have fogged her glasses, had she been
wearing any. This wasn’t a good idea for either of them, yet she didn’t seem to
be able to fight it. His lips gently touched hers before pulling back. Her
heart galloped as she blinked several times to bring the room back into focus.
It took her a few moments to realize she was free.

“This conversation isn’t over.”
He looked at her pointedly, his nostrils flaring slightly. His pupils were
large and black and telling her stuff she wasn’t prepared to handle. Dazed, she
made her way into the bathroom, closed the door and fell against it. She gulped
in air.

He knocked.

Her heart leapt into her throat.
She spun around and braced her hands against the door, not sure if it was to
keep herself upright or to keep him out. “What?”

“I thought you could use this.”

She opened the door just enough
to see what he was talking about. Two white bags, with some company’s logo on
it, dangled from the end of his fingers. She snatched them, closing and locking
the door before she did something crazy and invite him in. She proceeded to
open the packages and immediately burst into tears. Rarely had anyone ever
purchased anything for her and no one ever bought her clothes before. Turning,
she flipped on the shower, stripped and climbed in, hoping he hadn’t heard her
blubbering.

Trust. Where does that come from?
What makes one person trust another? Is it the way they talk? The things they
do? Who they help? She wasn’t any good at any of that. Her mom had taught her
well, never to trust anyone.
I’m alone. Damn you. I’m alone.

Leaning her arms against the
wall, she let the water pound down on her and the tears flow. She didn’t know
what to do now. Should she run? Should she stand and fight. She was very
confused about what she was fighting for anymore. Too much didn’t make sense.
She was starting to wonder how much of what her mom had told her was a lie.
I’m
not who you told me I am. The question is, did you steal me?
The tears
flowed unheeded down her cheeks.

Thirty minutes later, absolutely
drained of energy and every drop of water in her body, she dressed and went
back into the room. Guy was sitting at the table by the window reading the
morning paper, drinking from a mug.

“I made some coffee. Help
yourself.”

Grabbing a cup and filling it
gave her the moment she needed to get her mind clear. She sat down opposite
him. “I’m sorry.”

He carefully closed the newspaper
and set it down, before meeting her gaze. She tried not to flinch nor look away
but the compelling blue of his eyes offered her something she’d never seen or
had before, understanding. “Tell me about your job.”

“I…” Sipping her coffee, she sat
back. “I’ve been offered a job as an Interior Decorator. It’s what I’ve been
doing for a while. It’s really all I know. I said I’d take the job but I wasn’t
sure if I would. But I really want it. It’s good money. I turned it down a few
years ago and that almost killed me.” She waved her hand at his inquiring look.
“Long story. Anyway I almost said no for the same reason. But I couldn’t this
time. I want it but…”

She stared out the window.
But
life has a funny way of happening
.

“But?”

She shrugged. “I guess I won’t
take it now.”

“Why not? You just said you
wanted it.” He leaned forward.

No one had ever asked her what
she wanted or why. She’d always been told what she needed and didn’t need.

“My mom.” He just sat there
looking as though he was interested and it seemed that was all she needed to
talk. “She had this weird set of rules. Don’t lean on anyone. Don’t expect
others to do for you. Don’t get your picture in the media. Don’t talk to
strangers. Don’t move east. Clean up after yourself, you’re not a princess.”
Heat crawled up her face as she realized all that had spilled out of her mouth.
“She didn’t want me to take this job.”

“Why not move east?”

She shrugged.

“We need to talk about
everything. Are you ready to hear all that I have to tell you? And to answer
some questions?”

She wasn’t sure. She knew she was
tired, tired of running, off being alone, of not having anything that was hers.
She needed to know who she was.
Am I ready? No.

“Yeah. Where do you want to
start?”

“Tell me about your mom.”

“I thought you said she wasn’t my
mom?”

He sighed heavily.

“All right. My mom, or should I
say, the woman I thought was my mother.”

His steady gaze never wavered.

“I don’t know what to say. She’s
the only single thing that was constant in my life. We moved a lot. She was
paranoid about everything. I assumed for a long time that it was just being a
parent. But other parents weren’t like her. She’d come and get me in the middle
of the day from school and I’d never see it again. Sometimes it would be in the
middle of the night.” She stood up and went over to her bed, flipped back the
covers and pulled out the tattered Miss Piggy.

“I cried for a month when I
thought I’d lost her. My mom told me to get used to it. I’d lose lots in my
life. Why? Why did I have to give up everything?” Her voice became thick with
emotion. She hugged the doll to her chest. “There were only two things I ever
asked for in my life – this,” she held up her doll, “and a home. You know I was
such a good kid. I did everything she ever asked of me. I was loyal to a fault.
I worked every scheme. Everything she wanted. And what the hell did I get in
return.” She jumped up and started pacing.

“What do you mean by schemes?”

“Oh my god. My mom was a master
at getting what she wanted from people. I’d play nice to old men and they’d
give me money.”

His hand fisted around the cup.
“What does playing nice mean?”

She waved it off but wouldn’t
look at him. Some things weren’t meant for sharing. “Nothing. Enough that
they’d smile at me and give me money. I was darn cute ya know.” She knew that
joke had fallen short, when he didn’t even blink.

“Look, I’ve come to realize my
childhood was maybe not the norm but it really wasn’t that bad.” Unaware of
what she was doing, she started slamming her right fist into her left hand as
she paced. “My mom fed me. Clothed me. Housed me. Okay not always but…”

“If she’s not my mom, how did I
end up with her? Where would she have gotten me from? It’s not like you can
pull off the side of the road and dial a baby.” Her eyes narrowed as she
considered the possibilities. “I don’t even know where to start. I know nothing
about my mom – not where she was born. Grew up. Related to. Nothing. So how…”

“Your mom came into existence in
1983.”

She whirled around to stare at
Guy, forgetting that he was there. “She was born in 1952.”

“That may be true but we can’t
find any information on a Donna Saunders prior to July 1983.”

“And you think that has something
to do with me, right? But how could you make that leap. If I disappeared in
February, what happened until July? And how did I end up with her? In Alberta?
You want me to go along with your half baked ideas. What else do you need to
share with me?”

It was his turn to look away. He
seemed awfully focused on the view outside the hotel. Slowly he turned to face
her. “Sit down.”

She arched an eyebrow at him.

“Please.”

Hearing the note of
I-need-to-tell-you-something-serious-and-it-isn’t-good and what she would have
guessed was a genuine sadness that he had to do that, she complied. He reached
into his pocket and with his hand closed he extended his arm towards her across
the table.

“I think this is yours.”

She placed her palm under his. He
dropped something into hers. She knew even before she looked what he’d given
her. “How the hell did you get this? You stole it out of my pants. What do you
think you’re doing snooping through my stuff? Dammit. I knew I couldn’t trust
you. My mother was right, don’t put faith in anyone.” She stood up and was
about to storm off when he spoke.

Very quietly he said, “You left
the USB keychain at the library last night when you were supposed to be in this
hot tub relaxing.”

She dropped down in her seat,
heat flooding her neck and face. “I…”

He put up his hand. “Don’t. Just
let me tell you what I found on it.”

“I checked it out but it was all
in a foreign language or something. Or it’s wrecked, I think.”

“No, it means it’s encrypted.”

“Spy stuff?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. When I was
able to crack the code…”

She felt a tingling sensation
cruise through her body. “Oh my God. Really? This is so cool. Like you really
had to figure out the code and then apply it to get it to unscramble.”

“Yeah more or less. Look here’s
what I found. Your friend Mr. Lund was into a lot of illegal stuff.”

“What?”

“Stuff that we’ll discuss later.
He has files on anyone he was in contact with. And it seems he collected dirt
on everyone as well. There are a lot of people he could have put away in jail.”

“My mom. What did he have on my
mom?”

“That’s the funny thing. There
was nothing on a Donna Saunders but…”

She sat forward in her chair.
“But…” She flipped her hand in a give-me-more gesture.