Uneven Exchange (18 page)

“Well, I’m not so sure about the bus ride, but I am certain of one thing,” Alexandra said.

“What’s that?” Rico asked.

“Nobody would ever dream of taking such a long detour home.”

“That’s what I’m counting on,” Rico added. “Now I better go out and get you some clothes. I want something casual, maybe tourist-like.”

“Since we’re traveling together, you should look the part too.”

“You’re right. I’ll go and hit the beach shops while you rest up.” He stood to leave.

“What should I do with the car after you two have left?” Yoli asked him.

“Thank you, but there’s nothing to do. It’s already gone.”

“It is? When did you take care of that?”

“Very early this morning before you were even up. Torres arranged a pickup.”

“Wow. Is there anything you can’t do?” Yoli asked, amazed.

“Oh yes,” Rico said.

“What’s that?” Alexandra asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Rico asked as he stepped out the side door. His final comment faded as he walked away. “I can’t seem to win Daniela’s heart.”

Yoli moved closer to the kitchen table. “He really loves her,” she whispered to Alexandra.

Alexandra nodded. “I can tell. Do you think they will ever get back together?”

Yoli shrugged.

Both women were silent for several minutes until Alexandra spoke. “Thank you again for breakfast, Yoli, and for everything you have done for me.”

“It has been my pleasure.”

“I wish you would let me at least help you finish drying the dishes.”

“I will let you rest and nothing more. You have a long journey ahead of you.”

Alexandra stood to stretch her long legs. It was hard to believe after all that sleep she was still exhausted. “May I borrow your Bible?” she asked. “I would love to read a while.”

“Of course you may.” Yoli moved toward the living room. “Come with me and I’ll get it for you. There is nothing more comforting than the Word of God.”

“I agree.” Alexandra smiled.

Yoli retrieved her Bible from a round wooden table next to an overstuffed side chair as she continued speaking. “I’ve heard it said that when you pray, it is you speaking to God. But when you read the Bible, it is God speaking to you through His Word.”

Alexandra nodded enthusiastically. “You can say that again. God is a great listener, but I would rather hear Him than me!” She accepted the Bible and then snuggled into the comfortable living room chair. “Thank you, Yoli.”

“It’s my pleasure. Now don’t get up and promise me you will stay there and call out if you need anything.”

“I promise.”

CHAPTER

TWENTY-FOUR

THE TELEPHONE CALL

The Daniel Cole Company

Old Town, San Diego, California

Jake

As normal, Jake took the stairs leading up to their company two at a time. Upon entering, he noticed the lights shining in his private office and quickly discovered Isaiah, his apprentice, hard at work on the computer.

“What are
you
doing here?” Jake questioned. “It’s only seven in the morning, and besides, today is a holiday!”

“Now that’s where you are wrong, old man,” Isaiah responded, teasingly. “Yesterday was the holiday, not today. Don’t you know the day after Thanksgiving is a free day?”

“Yes, free from work,” Jake countered. “So what gives?”

“You know, I could ask you the same thing.”

“Yes, you could, but the reason is easy to guess. I own the place. How often do you get four days off in a row?”

“Not often, and that is exactly why I’m here so early. The truth is, I’ve got a paper due next week and I needed some computer time. I love this new construction program.”

“It is a time-saver,” Jake agreed. “So,” he said, patting Isaiah on the shoulder, “no time for surfing this long weekend, eh?”

“Are you kidding? I should be done here within the hour,” Isaiah volunteered. “Then it’s down to Baja!”

“Good for you. How are the waves?”

“They couldn’t be better. So tell me, what’s your story? Why are you here on this long weekend?”

“I had a really nice time with the Callet family yesterday. Alexandra’s mom cooks a mean turkey, plus she spoiled me rotten. So I thought I’d call Alex, say hi, see how she’s doing, and tell her how much she was missed.”

“And you don’t have a phone right there on your belt?”

“Cute,” Jake said while entering his office. He began rifling through the loose papers on his desk and then added, “Alex called right before Thanksgiving, so I thought she had cell service, but when I tried her mobile, it just rang and rang. My call didn’t even go to voice mail. I also tried texting, and nothing. Alex must have called me when she was in the city, as I have a feeling she’s not in a service area right now. So here I am in search for the direct telephone number of the bed and breakfast.”

Isaiah returned to his typing as Jake rummaged on his desk for Alexandra’s itinerary. But after several minutes, he called out in frustration, “Isaiah, have you seen that memo Alex left?”

“Sorry, Jake,” Isaiah said, now standing in Jake’s doorway. “I haven’t seen it. Do you want me to see if Kathryn has a copy on her desk?”

“Sure, if you don’t mind.”

Isaiah scurried down the hall and returned almost instantly. “Not a paper in sight. I even checked the drawers. Man, Kathryn’s desk is so clean it looks like she’s moving out.”

“I know.” Jake smiled affectionately. Every night, Kathryn methodically cleaned and even polished her desk.

“Do you want me to check her files?” Isaiah asked.

Jake turned his head, and sighed reluctantly. “I don’t know. I hate to invade her personal space. Kathryn will know if just one little thing is out of place.”

“Then let’s call her at home.”

Again Jake hesitated. “And interfere with her holiday? I hate to do that too. There must be another way.”

“Did you try looking it up online?”

“Of course I did. I tried that from home, but there was nothing,” Jake said as he logged onto his computer. “Maybe we have something in our contact files.”

“Yes, but remember we haven’t entered all of the old ones. I’ll check Kathryn’s card files,” Isaiah volunteered. “What’s the name of the company?”

“Jamison, Limited is the company, but I need the number for the bed and breakfast. It’s called Kingston something. Wait! The name is Kingston Manor.”

“Okay, got it,” Isaiah called out, already jogging toward Kathryn’s work area.

While Isaiah was away, Jake searched online for any combination of Kingston as a bed and breakfast. He scratched at his forehead, wondering why nothing appeared. He looked up to see Isaiah returning from down the hall. “I’ve had no luck. How about you?”

“Bingo! Well kind of,” he added. “I checked for the listings under both
J
and
K
, but came up empty. But then I noticed an additional card file under the side return of Kathryn’s desk. I’m guessing that it’s a file for non-active clients. When I looked through the cards behind
J
, there was this one for Jamison, Limited. But I couldn’t find anything for Kingston Manor under the
K
section.” Isaiah held the card out to Jake.

Jake gratefully accepted it. “No problem. I’m sure someone at the company office has the number for their bed and breakfast. Thanks.”

“What time is it in England anyway?”

“Oh man, I didn’t think of that.” Jake used his fingers to quickly calculate. “I’d better hurry. It’s right about closing time.”

Isaiah again returned to his computer, leaving Jake alone in his office as he made the call.

“Jamison, Limited,” a woman answered in a thick British accent.

“Mr. Jamison, please,” Jake requested.

“One moment, please. I will ring his assistant.”

A different, also heavily accented voice answered, “Mr. Jamison’s office. This is Emma speaking. How may I help you?”

“Hello, Emma. My name is Daniel Taylor, Alexandra Callet’s business partner.”

“Oh yes, I have heard Mr. Jamison speak of Miss Callet. How may I help you, Mr. Taylor?” she asked politely.

“I seem to have misplaced the telephone number for Kingston Manor and would like to call Alexandra. Would you mind giving it to me?”

“Pardon?” She sounded confused.

“You know, Kingston Manor. I believe that is the correct name for the bed and breakfast Mr. Jamison is building.”

“I am terribly sorry, Mr. Taylor. I have no idea about what you might be speaking. Mr. Jamison does not have a bed and breakfast, nor is he building one.”

“Perhaps Mr. Jamison doesn’t tell you everything,” Jake suggested, letting his irritation get the better of him. “May I please speak with Mr. Jamison personally?”

“That is not possible. Mr. Jamison is out of the country.”

“Then would you please transfer me to someone who might know about Kingston Manor?”

“I can assure you that Mr. Jamison knows nothing of this Kingston Manor, and, if he did, I would certainly be privy. I apologize for not being able to assist you, Mr. Taylor. However, there is nothing more I can do.”

Sensing her inclination to terminate their conversation, Jake quickly apologized for his harsh tone and asked Emma if she knew where to find Alexandra.

“Once again, Mr. Taylor, I am sorry, but I have never even met Miss Callet. Nor do I know her whereabouts.”

Jake barely had the strength left to thank Emma before hanging up. An empty, nauseous feeling churned in his stomach while his mind screamed with pain.
Why did she lie to me?
One moment he felt sickened by the thought of Alexandra off with another man, and the next, he feared for her safety. Jake was lost in his emotions, not knowing where to turn. Dazed, he opened his office door and staggered into the hall.

“Jake, what’s wrong?” Isaiah rushed to his side. “Is it Alexandra? Is she okay?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Jake mumbled. “Yes, yes, she’s fine. Well, I don’t know.”

“What do you mean? Jake, what is going on? You’re not making any sense.”

Isaiah’s insistent questions helped to clear Jake’s head. “Isaiah, I’m sorry, but I can’t get into it right now. I need to think.” He walked toward the door before adding, “I’ll see you later.”

Jake slowly descended the stairs, taking them one at a time. Needing to move, he walked along the empty streets in front of the closed restaurants and shops. Soon the area would hum with the usual tourist activity, but the early-morning quiet allowed him to scan his thoughts. They raced through his head like a feeding frenzy of pigeons. Over and over, Jake examined the events leading up to Alexandra’s departure. For some reason, he kept coming back to the impromptu photography class. He knew Alexandra liked photography, but signing up for a class on such short notice had seemed out of character to her.

He continued deliberating during the drive home, and by the time Jake reached his house, he was convinced the photography class had something to do with this mess. When Alexandra first told him she had signed up for the class, Jake remembered thinking how odd it seemed. It came out of the blue and was not her normal behavior.

Jake parked his SUV and hurried to the front door. The moment he entered, he ran into the kitchen and yanked down his calendar from where it hung inside a cupboard door. Then, he dropped it onto the dining room table, flipped back to October, and stared at the numbered squares.

“Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays,” he said. “Who was she with, and what was Alexandra really doing? I don’t understand. Why all the secrecy?”

Jake’s speculation turned to Alexandra’s mobile phone. If she left class, or skipped it altogether, she might have made a call. Fortunately, they had a combined business plan. Unfortunately, the statements were back at the office. Jake climbed back into his vehicle and headed there.

After he pulled into the parking lot, Jake raced up the stairs, smiling at the darkened windows. Fortunately, Isaiah had already left and Jake could be alone. Once inside, he went directly to the filing cabinet where they kept the paid bills to retrieve copies of their mobile phone statements. Anxiously, he opened folded invoices and scanned through the preceding three months. He then cross-checked the calls with the dates, circling any number called after six p.m. on a Tuesday or Thursday and all of the numbers called on Saturday. In the process, Jake noticed that several similar numbers showed up when she was supposedly in class. Angered that Alexandra obviously wasn’t where she said she’d be, Jake’s first thought was to call each number and demand to speak with her. He promptly decided against it.

Instead, he extracted a yellow legal pad from his briefcase and systematically recorded each number on a separate column. Of the seven total numbers, three were called only once, two had been called three times each, and one number, five times. She’d called the seventh number more than a dozen times.

Jake took the pad to his computer, logged into their reverse directory service, and checked the numbers. All three of the numbers Alexandra had called only once belonged to clients of the firm, but none of the rest were listed. Jake paced and thought, thought and paced, and then without thinking through the consequences, automatically dialed one of the unlisted numbers.

“Hello,” a woman answered.

Jake greeted her and asked if he had reached the right number, which he read aloud.

“Who is calling, please?” she asked suspiciously.

“I’m sorry,” Jake stammered. “I must have misdialed.” Frustrated, he hung up.

A recorded voice answered the second call without disclosing any information. The caller was simply asked to leave a message. The same recorded voice answered his third call, also without disclosing any information. Without leaving a message, Jake hung up and stared at the final number. It loomed before him ominously as he slowly tapped it into the keypad. In preparation for a verbal confrontation, Jake squeezed the receiver and waited for a response. None came as he listened to the hollow, empty ringing.

He continued dialing the mystery number on and off for more than two hours. When he had no success, Jake finally decided to enlist the help of a friend. He knew Alexandra had lied to him, but instinct alerted him to the possibility that she could also be in danger. It was not like Alexandra to lie. But it was like Alexandra to protect those she loved. He knew it was far-fetched, but he also considered the possibility that she was being blackmailed. This time when he picked up the telephone, he dialed the police.

“Police department,” the male dispatcher answered.

“May I speak with Detective Sean McKittrick, please?” Jake asked courteously.

“One moment, please,” the dispatcher said.

Jake heard the clicks of a transfer, followed by a different ringtone.

Within seconds, the line was answered. “McKittrick here.” The gruff sound of the officer’s voice was reminiscent of a cement mixer.

“Hi, Mac, it’s Jake Taylor.”

“Jake, my man! It’s nice to hear your voice. How’s business going?”

“Well,” Jake stuttered, “that’s kind of why I’m calling. It’s about Alexandra, my business partner.”

“Yes, I remember Alexandra. Is she okay?” McKittrick sounded concerned.

“Frankly, Mac, I don’t know.”

“Then start at the beginning. Why are you concerned? What happened?”