"He came to talk about Robert," his father interjected.
The two of them exchanged a quick look, and Reid knew his instincts had been right on the money. His parents knew something.
"Has something happened to Robert?" his mom asked. "I've left several messages for him, and he hasn't returned any of my calls. Have you spoken to him?"
"No, but one of his colleagues is very concerned about him. She asked me to help her find him."
"Are you talking about Shayla Callaway?" his mother asked.
"Yes. Do you know her?"
"We only met once, but Robert has always spoken of her with great fondness. Why don't you come inside, Reid?"
He hesitated, but he'd come this far, he might as well go all the way. "All right."
"Do you want something to drink?" his mother asked as she ushered him into the house. "Or maybe some food?"
"No, thanks."
As he walked into the living room with his parents, he realized nothing much had changed, except that the furniture seemed more worn. In fact, the whole room looked kind of tired. He sat down on the couch next to his mom while his dad took his usual seat on the leather recliner.
For a moment there was nothing but silence in the room.
It wasn't even that awkward, because it seemed like every other conversation he'd had with his parents. Communication had always been difficult.
Clearing his throat, he said, "When is the last time you spoke to Robert?"
Another look passed between his parents, then his mother said, "It was about three weeks ago."
"Anything stand out about that call?"
"Robert was concerned about his research," she replied. "He said he'd found some anomalies that bothered him."
"What kind of anomalies?"
"He didn't get into details, but I could tell that he was upset about something. It was a change from our previous conversations. The past few months he'd been very excited about the new drug he was working on." She paused. "Robert said he was getting close to a breakthrough, a medication that could change people's lives. But the company he was working for wanted results fast, and if they didn't get them, his research grants were going to go away. He felt like he was racing a speeding train."
That was interesting. "Did he call you from Colombia?"
"No, he was back in town for a few days when we spoke," his mom said. "I asked him to come by, but he said he didn't have time. He was meeting with Karl Straitt, one of Abbott's attorneys."
"What about?"
"I don't know. He didn't give me any details." She paused. "I could hear the tension in his voice. And it was worse than it had ever been, even when he was going through his divorce." She stopped abruptly. "I don't know if you know—"
"Yeah, I heard they divorced," he said. "I don't care about that. I'm only interested in Robert's professional relationships."
"Then you need to know something," his father cut in. "Lisa left Robert for Hal Collins, the senior vice president of Abbott Pharmaceuticals, the man who has been responsible for funding most of Robert's research for the last seven years."
"Lisa and Hal moved in together a few months ago," his mom continued. "They're planning a wedding in the fall."
"Is that why Robert's funding is being cut?"
"He did say he thought Hal wanted him out of the company," his mother replied. "But there were other factors."
"The company Robert works for is being courted for a buyout," his father added. "Branson Biotech is interested in acquiring Abbott Pharmaceuticals, and it will make a lot of people very rich if the deal goes through."
"So the company might be sold, and Robert's research grant might be cut—I can see why that would stress him out." What he couldn't see was how any of that put Robert in danger. Then again they were talking about millions of dollars changing hands and greed could always put people in danger. "Is there anything else?" he asked.
"No," his mom said. "But I'm worried. Do you know where Robert is?"
"I have an idea," he said.
"Are you going to find him?"
"I'm not sure yet."
His answer angered them both, and he was reminded of how many times he'd disappointed them. He got to his feet, intending to leave, but his leg cramped from the sudden movement, and pain shot down his thigh to his ankle. He reached for the arm of the couch to steady himself.
His mother got up and put her hand on his arm. "Reid, are you all right?"
"Fine" he gritted out. "I just need a minute." He prayed for the spasm to subside quickly. After a moment, he was able to sit back down, stretching his leg out on the coffee table.
"What happened to your leg?" his father asked.
"I broke it." He didn't add any details. They didn't want to hear more, and he didn't want to say more.
His mother gave him a concerned look. "Are you going to be all right?"
"Eventually."
"What can I get you?"
"Maybe some water and if you have any ibuprofen."
"I'll get it," his father said, getting up from his chair.
"You're not going back into the Army, are you?" his mom asked as his dad left the room.
"No chance of that," he murmured.
"Good. I won't have to worry every time I read about a soldier killed in action." She paused, frowning at his surprised look. "You think I didn't worry about you, Reid? I'm your mother. I know that our relationship hasn't been what it should have been. That was partly my fault. But I never knew how to handle you when you were young. You were stubborn and headstrong and determined to do the opposite of anything we wanted."
"You're right about that. Robert could do no wrong and I did everything wrong."
"Robert wasn't perfect," she said quietly.
He met her gaze with disbelief. "I can't believe
you
would say that."
"I know you think we let him get away with things, and maybe we did, but that didn't mean we were completely blind to his faults."
That was news to him.
"Looking back, I think both your father and I got caught up in the excitement and wonder of Robert's extreme gift of intelligence," she said. "I wanted to give Robert the opportunities I never had. I couldn't afford to go to the best university or pursue a master's degree because I had to go to work. And while your father had more financial backing than I did when it came to education, he didn't have the brains to achieve all he wanted to achieve. When Robert's teachers told us how special and extraordinary he was, we wanted to make sure he reached his full potential. In a way, I think we both saw Robert as our second chance."
"But not me," he said. "I wasn't going to do anything to make you proud."
"You tried not to do anything to make us proud," she reminded him. "You were always testing us, taking chances, and pushing the limits. Every time you left the house, I was afraid of what you'd do. Your father said you just wanted our attention, and we didn't want to encourage your behavior, so we tried to pretend that we didn't see it. But that didn't work out well, either."
"Well," he said, not sure what to make of what she'd told him. "It might have been nice to have had this conversation about twenty years ago."
"I don't think you were ready until now." She paused, her gaze narrowing. "When Lisa and Robert got together, we probably made the biggest mistake of all. I thought by not choosing sides, we'd be able to keep the family together."
"But you did choose. Robert committed the worst betrayal imaginable, and you let him get away with it."
"We told him we weren't happy," she defended. "But you're right, we should have taken more of a stand."
"You didn't want to lose Robert."
"No, we didn't. It felt like you were already gone, and Robert was all we had left. But I can't say it was easy to be nice to Lisa, to accept her into our family. I hated her, and I was never happier than I was the day Robert told me they were divorcing. I'm so glad she's out of both of your lives. Now that she's gone, I hope that one day we can find a way to be a family again."
"Again?" he asked dryly.
"I suppose that's fair," she conceded. "But as your father and I get older, we realize how little time there is to make things right. I'd given up hope that you would ever want to see us again, but now that you're here, I'm wondering if there is any chance we could start over?"
"I don't know," he said. "Perhaps."
"I guess that's better than a definite no."
"It's funny," he said.
"What is?"
"When I walked in the door, I thought to myself that nothing has changed. You and Dad are living in a time warp. But I was wrong. Something has changed." He paused, meeting her gaze. "Me."
"Have you changed enough to put the past aside and help Robert?"
"I don't know. Possibly. He is my brother. On the other hand, I'm fairly sure that he's about to screw up my life for a second time, and I don't know if I want to go down that road again."
"I don't think you'd be here if you weren't at least considering going down that road."
"You might be right about that."
"Will you stay for a while, have dinner with us?"
"Not today," he said. This visit had gone far better than expected. He didn't want to push his luck.
Disappointment ran through her eyes. "Of course, I understand."
"But maybe another time," he added.
"Really?" she asked hopefully.
"I do miss your lasagna."
She smiled. "I'll make you a big casserole. Hopefully, Robert can come, too. I would like nothing better than to sit down to dinner with both of my sons. Help me make that happen, Reid."
"We'll see," he said, knowing that he could not make that promise yet. But he was getting closer.
Chapter Ten
As Shayla drove back to her apartment Friday afternoon, she felt decidedly calmer. Lunch with the female members of her family had been filled with fun and humor, and for a few hours, she'd been able to forget about Colombia. She was still worried about Robert, but she felt confident that Reid would help him. Although, she was a little concerned that she hadn't heard from Reid since that morning. She'd thought he would update her with his plans, but maybe that had been a foolish thought. She'd sent him on his way, and unless he wasn't planning to meet Robert, he really had no reason to check in with her.
And she had no good reason to want him to call her, except that she did.
A sigh escaped her lips as she stopped at a light. While she was feeling better, she wished Kari hadn't gone out of town. It would have been nice to have someone else in the apartment to talk to, maybe have dinner with. But she was on her own.
It would be fine. Tomorrow would be busy with the wedding, and hopefully on Sunday Reid would find Robert, and by Monday, all would be good.
Buoyed by her optimistic mental pep talk, she drove down her street, and was happy to find a parking spot not too far away. She turned off the engine, grabbed her bridesmaid's dress and headed into the building. She jogged up the stairs, preferring to avoid the small, creaky elevator that had a tendency to stall between floors. Her good mood lasted until she was about six feet away from her apartment and realized her front door was ajar.
She stopped abruptly. She told herself that this wasn't the first time the door hadn't latched properly. They'd had problems with it before. Kari probably hadn't shut it all the way when she left.
Forcing herself to move forward, she paused by the door and pushed it open a few more inches. She didn't see anyone. Nor did she hear anything. She waited another minute and then opened the door all the way. The living room was empty.
"Kari?" she said loudly. "Are you home?"
There was no answer. No movement. No sound whatsoever.
She pulled out her phone as she walked toward the hallway and put in 9-1-1. She was ready to hit connect at the first sign of a problem.
Kari's bedroom door was open. The covers on her bed were on the floor. Her dresser drawers had clearly been searched with piles of clothes spilling out of them.
As Shayla moved down the hall, she found more chaos in her bedroom. The scene was very similar to the one she'd seen in Robert's office last night.
Her chest got so tight she could barely breathe.
Someone had been in her room.
Someone had gone through her drawers, touched her things.
She felt completely violated
.
Backing out of the room, she walked quickly down the hall, her hand still gripping her phone. She wanted to call the police but she knew this wasn't an ordinary burglary. This was about Robert and Colombia.
Nausea rolled up from her stomach, sending a bitter taste to her tongue. She ran out of the apartment and didn't stop running until she got into her car. Once inside, she punched in Reid's number, praying he would answer.
"Shayla?" he said quickly. "Everything all right?"
Relief swept through her at the sound of his voice. "Someone broke into my apartment."
"Are you all right?"
"I'm shaken. I wasn't home at the time. They're gone now. But I don't know if they're coming back."
"Where are you?"
"Sitting in my car out front. Should I call the police?"
"Wait for me. I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Don't go back inside until I get there."
"Don’t worry, I'm not going anywhere," she said, checking again to make sure her car doors were locked. "Just hurry, okay."
As she hung up the phone, she looked in the rearview mirror. The street was quiet, but there were a bunch of cars parked down the block, and she couldn't tell if any of them were occupied. She drilled her fingers on her thighs and tried to breathe naturally. It was broad daylight. She would be fine. It was just going to be a really long fifteen minutes.
* * *
Reid made it to Shayla's apartment in twelve minutes. As he pulled up behind her car, she got out and ran to him. For a moment he thought she was going to throw herself in his arms, but she skidded to a stop in front of him.
"Thanks for coming," she said, wrapping her arms around her body. "Robert was so insistent that I not call the police, I didn't know what to do."