Authors: Elizabeth Goddard
“Look, I’m not sure what you have in mind, but this business is family owned and operated. It’s not like you can get it ready so that you can take it IPO or whatever it is you do. I know your type.” Riley applied ointment to her lips and rubbed them together then tucked the small container back into her pocket.
She would be as much of a challenge as the business itself. Even better. “No, no. You misunderstand me.”
“What about your company? How would you have the time?”
Zane peered out a window that was in need of a good scrub and watched a man head to the office. He had to hurry. “I can’t do much with the company right now. I lost my key programmer. My only programmer.” He turned to face Riley. “But you know that. Cyphorensic is on hold for the moment.” Or at least until he decided how to proceed with it. Sensing her rebuff, he continued. “Think of Chad, if not yourself. Let me do this for Chad, for John’s memory. I can help you. It’s apparent you need assistance.”
The door swung open, and Zane flinched. Had he won her over?
The man stepped into the room then removed his straw hat and nodded at Zane. He looked at Riley. “Ma’am. I’ve already spoken to Mr. Sanderford, and he told me to come speak to you since you’re running things now. Sure wish you would’ve shown up sooner. Thing is… I’ve had to take another job.” He lowered his head. “I’m sorry about that. I’ve got two teenage boys starting to drive. That comes with a big insurance bill.” The man grinned as if he hoped to ease the tension.
Zane wanted to smile at the timing, but he couldn’t. He hesitated before looking at Riley, because he knew the turmoil on her face would affect him.
Oh great!
The day could not get any worse. Riley steeled herself against an onslaught of tears growing behind her eyes. She would not allow herself to break down. “I’m really sorry to hear that, Mr. Finickes, is it?”
She’d only met the man a few days before, but her mind was in overdrive, trying to grasp her new responsibilities plus all the changes that had happened in her life in such a short time.
“Can you give us two more weeks?” She held her breath.
The farm helper looked at his hat. “Ma’am, I’m sorry. My new employer needed someone starting this week. If I want the job, I’ve got to start now.” He looked up at her, regret in his expression.
“I understand. Tell you what. I know we probably owe you something. Why don’t you come by tomorrow, or later in the week when you get the chance, and I’ll have a check ready for you.” Riley could sense Zane watching her, and it unnerved her.
He’d made a valid offer to help with the farm, but she felt pressured and did not appreciate his interference. She could do this job herself, though Mr. Finickes didn’t have the greatest timing in the world.
“Thank you, ma’am. Later on this week, then.” He placed his hat back on his head, stood tall, and smiled at her before exiting with an added bounce to his step.
Riley opened desk drawers and shuffled through pencils, paper clips, business cards, and an array of disorganized junk, looking for a bottle of painkillers. A sticky blue substance covered her fingers, and she looked for the source. A leaking ink pen. She wiped at the goop with a tissue but only succeeded in smearing the ink, which left a stain.
The pounding in her head began to increase in intensity, and if she didn’t stop it soon, she could be facing a full-blown migraine. The bills and late notices drew her gaze as though they screamed at her, demanding her attention. Unsuccessful in her search, she sighed as she closed the drawer and returned her attention to Zane.
“You know, I appreciate your offer. I really do. But I can handle this on my own. It’s a great opportunity for me.” If she could make it work, that was. She could think of nothing worse than failing and adding to Grandpa’s disappointment.
Chad stirred on his blanket and sat up, his pudgy cheeks red. He squinted then rubbed his eyes. “Mommy?”
Pain shot through Riley’s tender heart at his words, and she shared a look with Zane. His gaze spoke volumes to her that he cared deeply for the child. She rushed to Chad and picked him up. “No, sweetie, Mommy’s not here. It’s Aunt Riley.”
The inadequate words caused her to frown. For Chad’s sake, she wished she could become his mother; then he wouldn’t have to grapple with a situation he couldn’t understand. She’d not had the opportunity to call a counselor for advice yet, though she would probably speak to the pastor at her grandfather’s church as he had suggested.
“Here, honey, let me get you some juice.” The yellow top of a sippy cup protruded from the elastic side pocket of his diaper bag. She pulled at it, but the bag wouldn’t relinquish its hold.
“Allow me.” Zane pulled the apple juice out and handed it over to Chad, who smiled at him. It was obvious the boy returned Zane’s affection.
She understood why Chad loved him so much. He was kind and considerate. “I should probably get back to work, Mr. Baldwyn, and I’m sure you’ve got something you must do, as well. Again, I appreciate your offer, but I can handle this.” Riley hoped she sounded convincing; the pressure in her head was mounting, and she didn’t have an inkling how to get on top of things now that Chad was awake.
Zane jammed his hands into his pockets and paced. “May I ask you a question?”
Though his manners were endearing, the man couldn’t take no for an answer. She gritted her teeth to contain her frustration. After her experience with Eric and now Zane, Riley began to wonder if all men were bullheaded.
“Go ahead.”
“Don’t think me rude, but how do you plan to run this business and take care of Chad?” He pinned her with a blue-eyed stare.
She bristled and opened her mouth to speak, but he held up his palm to stop her. “Let me at least help you get organized, get things running smoothly. It’s what I do. I can see that you’ve come into an impossible situation.”
Zane pulled his other hand out of his pocket and moved close to Riley. “I feel like I need to do something for John, for his son and sister. Don’t deny me this.” He leaned in and kissed Chad on the cheek.
The tender kiss startled her. She stiffened at his nearness. His cologne fogged her thinking, and she backed up to clear her mind.
“What do you know about cranberry farming? You’re a computer geek, for crying out loud.” Riley pressed her dry lips together, hoping she hadn’t offended him. “When would you have time to do this, and how would you work? Are you even willing to get your hands dirty?”
Zane grinned at her onslaught of questions. Not the effect she’d been shooting for. He unbuttoned his left shirtsleeve and began to meticulously fold it over until it reached his elbow. Then he started on the other, again taking time to be precise with each crease.
“First of all, I’m not a computer geek. Your brother was, remember?” His smile faded at his mention of John. He placed his hands on his hips. “I’m ready to get my hands dirty. I’ll work part-time in the morning for a few weeks, months, however long it takes. I’ll take care of Cyphorensic and other business in the afternoon.”
He came across as ridiculous, standing there with his sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows, yet his starched white shirt looking as though it had been painted by an artist working in chocolate. Riley covered her mouth to hide her smile.
He raised his arms in question. “What? You don’t believe me?”
“So you’re really going to just throw that shirt away?”
Zane’s eyes widened; she’d caught him off guard. He looked down at his shirt as if seeing Chad’s artwork for the first time and laughed.
His laughter sent an unexpected thrill through her heart. She’d been wrong. Zane was not like Eric. Her ex-boyfriend would never have the desire or need to help anyone—unless he had an ulterior motive. Still, she’d been a poor judge of character in the past and couldn’t be certain of Zane’s intentions. She cradled Chad in her arms, desiring to focus on the child and, for the moment, put aside her concerns about Zane’s true reasons for wanting to help.
“All right.”
His cheerful expression turned serious, his smile fading. “You won’t regret this, Riley. May I call you Riley? I’m not sure we ever established that.”
His eruption of words made her dizzy. “Yes, yes, you can call me Riley.”
As Zane pulled into the parking lot of the two-story business complex that housed Cyphorensic Technologies, he tried to relax. He’d made the decision to help Riley on the cranberry farm in order to search for what John had sent her, or at least to earn her trust so that she would tell him. But while he was in the farm office, he couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do more than help her. He owed that much to John. But he had to admit it wasn’t the best business decision he’d ever made. Against his better judgment, he’d offered to spend time organizing things and getting the farm ready for expansion. All he’d really needed to do was be forthright and ask her about John’s message.
He slammed the car door and pressed the security alarm button on his key fob as he headed toward the building. Something about Riley, her desperate need, or possibly the combination of Riley holding Chad and her desperate need, had touched his heart. Awakened it. Made him feel alive. It astounded him that with everything he’d done with his life, he’d never felt this way before. And he wanted to feel this way more.
Zane stared at the gold-etched name of his lifeless company; then he pushed through the plate glass doors of Cyphorensic Technologies to see Chelsea stashing personal items into a cardboard box. He stopped in the middle of the small lobby. “What are you doing?”
She curved her lips without flashing her usual bright smile. “Mr. Baldwyn, sir, you don’t need me. There’s nothing going on here. Hardly anyone ever calls. And except for when Mr. Connor was still alive, well, no one stops by anymore. I wanted to be a receptionist so I could see people. I love people. I’ve filed everything there is to file. Twice.”
She smacked her gum in sheer freedom. “Besides, I got a new job. I’ll be working for a veterinarian. I love animals. Oh, and I almost forgot. The police are here. I didn’t know that Mr. Connor’s computers were stolen, but I showed them his office.”
Zane hesitated, absorbing her news as he stared at her. He hadn’t noticed any cruiser in the parking lot. “They’re here?”
“They only just showed. They’re looking around Mr. Connor’s office, taking pictures and prints, I think.” She cleared her throat. “The investigating officer said he needed to ask you questions. He’s so cute.”
Zane sighed. “Well, I’m here now.” He headed back to John’s office.
“Mr. Baldwyn. Glad you could make it.” One of the two uniformed officers greeted him with a smile. “I’m Sergeant Draper.”
“Sorry I’m late. I phoned in not that long ago. Figured it would be awhile before anyone showed.”
The officer’s smile flattened, but he maintained his friendly, relaxed stance. He proceeded to question Zane regarding the theft. Zane answered with the facts, leaving any of his qualms out of the equation. No need to introduce his theories at this point.
“Your alarm system’s been disabled. I suggest you invest in something that can’t be disabled through the simple cutting of wires.”
The information startled him. Had setting the alarm become such a rote operation that he’d failed to notice the system hadn’t armed? “Thanks. So what happens next?”
“There’s been a rash of electronic thefts in the area lately. TVs, stereos, and computers. Unless you have something else to add…”
Zane shook his head. What was he going to say? His partner had died in a car crash a month ago but had sent something he thought might be a matter of life and death to his sister? He’d had a nefarious history of hacking? “I need to take some files home. That’s okay, isn’t it? I’m a workaholic.”
“I think we have all we need.” Sergeant Draper nodded his dismissal of Zane and headed out of John’s office along with his partner.
A rash of electronic thefts.
Zane tugged at his collar. Was he being paranoid to think that the stolen hardware had anything to do with John? Still, there was his strange comment about life and death….
Zane stood in the hallway and watched them stroll through the reception area. Chelsea’s smile brightened. Sergeant Draper lingered longer than necessary before leaving. Once the officers were gone, Zane approached Chelsea. She resumed stacking various pictures of family members and friends into the box next to something pink and fluffy that Zane didn’t recognize. He knew she was right, of course. There was no reason for her to remain at Cyphorensic. She was a vivacious, attractive young woman and needed interaction.
“I mean, if things were busy, I wouldn’t leave you. You could count on me. But except for Mr. Connor’s client, well, you don’t need me.”
Zane froze. “What did you say?”
Chelsea stopped chewing and gave him a look that said she thought he was old and losing it, apparently forgetting her earlier infatuation with him. Zane knew she hadn’t intended to appear that way, but it cut him nevertheless.
“I said you could count on me if things were busy… if you needed me.” She went back to smacking, even attempting a bubble. “But you don’t.”