Silence in the Dark (23 page)

“May I help you?”

The question startled him. How did he miss the pretty blonde behind the desk? “Yes. Edward Montoya is with Mr. Maxwell, and I’m to join them.”

“Oh, you must be Joel McDermott. They’re in the office at the top of the stairs on the right. Just knock and go on in—they’re expecting you.”

“Thanks.” He did as she instructed. When he stepped inside the office, the decor surprised him. While the boardroom they’d been in earlier spoke quality, this room went a step further. Rich
walnut paneling and thick carpet along with expensive-looking oil paintings. Phillip Maxwell had good taste.

Edward and Phillip glanced up, and Ian turned from the window with a phone to his ear.

Phillip nodded. “How’s your dad?”

“So-so. I’m going to the hospital first thing in the morning to see if I can talk him into the surgery. My mother is beside herself, thinking he’s going to die any minute.” Not that he would. He was too ornery to die.

“Perhaps he will listen to you,” Edward said.

Joel doubted it. He never had. Ian pocketed his phone and took a seat at the table.

“Trouble?” Phillip asked.

“One of the employees had a package stolen from their car. Unlocked, of course.” Ian shook his head. “I’ve warned everyone they should lock their cars, but when one of their own employers argues with me about it in front of them, what can you expect?”

“What are you talking about?” Phillip said.

“Danny and I exchanged words this morning because he never locks his car, and everyone knows he keeps a gun in the console. This very employee was present during the argument.”

“Perhaps this will teach him a lesson,” Montoya said.

“Perhaps.” Ian turned to Joel. “How are things with Bailey?”

“Okay.” Joel hesitated. “Is your cousin involved with her?”

“Danny?” Ian laughed. “He’d like to be, but I doubt anything will ever come of it.”

“Why not?” He’d like to know what Danny was doing wrong. “I mean, most women would find the Maxwell money intriguing, if nothing else.”

“Not Bailey. Money doesn’t impress her, and she’s always been gun-shy around men. To get her, a man will have to be patient, and Danny is very short on patience.”

Joel tucked that piece of information into the corner of his
mind. If he got out of this mess and had a normal life, he’d like to have Bailey in it. But she would have to be wooed with kindness and small gestures. Not extravagant gifts like the necklace. He’d have to work on that. When Phillip asked him a question about shipments, Joel turned his attention to the conversation about production schedules.

ACCESS DENIED
. Joel stared at the computer screen, his jaw clenched so tight pain shot down his neck. Wrong again. He’d had to try one more time—it had become an obsession. Why couldn’t he remember the stupid number? Maybe it was because he was tired. He’d slept little last night, and then the meeting with the Maxwells went on and on.

He stared at the numbers he’d penciled on the sheet, willing them to change to the right order. Instead they ran together. It wasn’t that he had trouble memorizing numbers, it was remembering them in the right order. He had to be transposing them. But which ones? He had two more attempts before the site locked him out.

Foolproof. The plan should have been foolproof. Engrave the account number in a locket for Maria, put Claire’s photo over it, and then place the small, expensively wrapped box with Maria’s name on it in the briefcase that went everywhere with him. If anyone found the present, he could easily explain he hadn’t gotten around to giving it to her. Just a locket an uncle planned to give his niece.

Then Bailey had to go and find the pretty package, and he’d had to actually give it to the child.

His cell rang, and he pushed away from the computer to answer it. “Hello?”

“Are you with Maria?” Edward Montoya’s flat voice sent dread through his body.

“No, I haven’t made it to the bed-and-breakfast yet. And I didn’t
tell you earlier, but she knows Angel is her father.” There had been no opportunity to talk about his brother-in-law with Edward, and his boss would not have been pleased to have Angel discussed in front of the Maxwells.

“So the reports were true. He’s alive.”

“Very much so.”

“Did you learn where he’s been all this time?”

“A Texas hospital. I think he almost died.” When Montoya didn’t respond, Joel said, “Angel suggested I move into the bed-and-breakfast, and I plan to. Actually I’m packing up now. And he’s going to allow me to take Maria to see my parents. You’ll have to carry on tomorrow at Maxwell Industries without me.”

“Don’t be taken in by his charm. He wants something from you.”

“I’m sure he does. Oh, Maria was asking about you. She would really like it if you came to see her at the bed-and-breakfast.”

“I won’t have time. Perhaps you can bring her to the Peabody.”

“I doubt either Bailey or Angel will allow that. They don’t let Maria out of their sight.”

“Has there been another attempt to kidnap her?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

Joel took a small 9mm pistol from his bag and slipped it into his front pocket. “I’ll call you after I talk with Angel about bringing her to see you.”

He had no more than hung up before his phone rang again, and he glanced at the phone. The number wasn’t one he recognized, but it was possible Bailey had gotten a new phone. He answered it before it went to his voicemail.

“Do you have the money you owe?”

Joel almost dropped the phone. “How did you get this number?”

“That doesn’t matter. You owe 150,000 dollars today. Tomorrow it will be 200,000.”

“That’s crazy.”

“No, it’s the price you pay for losing when you can’t afford it.”

Dead silence. Disconnected. He quickly tapped the number, and it immediately went to a message saying voicemail hadn’t been set up. A burner phone, probably.

He paced the motel room. Money. He had to have money, and the only place he could get that amount was from Edward’s offshore account. If he could ever get into it. He halted his pacing to stare at the Grand Cayman bank’s website on the computer screen.

It’d been pure luck, a gift, that he had the account number in the first place. Joel had been in an employee meeting with Edward and the production foremen when his boss sent Joel after a needed file. When he picked up the folder, a scrap of paper with letters and numbers fluttered to the floor. On a hunch, he’d photocopied the scrap and then became obsessed with knowing what the letters and numbers meant. It’d been easy to figure out the long number belonged to some sort of account and the shorter one a password and that the letters stood for a bank. But which one?

It’d taken him less than a week to find a bank to fit the letters. He’d accessed the account and transferred a nominal amount and then waited. Evidently Edward never noticed, because the next time Joel tried, he gained access. But he’d been afraid to transfer more money or to even keep the paper he copied, so he embedded the account number in three different files on his laptop.

Then he’d had the number engraved on the necklace and destroyed the paper. He couldn’t think of any place safe enough to keep it, although he had considered putting it in the safe. He shuddered to think how
that
would have played out if whoever had broken into his house had gotten their hands on the account number.

The necklace was only supposed to be his backup, one he never should have needed. Not with the account number encrypted on his computer and his computer backed up to an off-site server. But now the laptop was gone, and he couldn’t access the backup, and
the locket was at some jeweler’s. It was like he had subscribed to Murphy’s Law.

Somehow he had to get the number to that account and transfer the two hundred grand he owed the casino. He pressed his hands to the side of his face. No, that wouldn’t be enough. At the rate he was going, it’d be twice that by the time he got into the account. If almost half a mil went missing from Edward Montoya’s offshore account, his boss would notice.

Or maybe not. Edward had millions. Surely he wouldn’t miss—

Joel shook his head. Had he totally lost his mind? Edward Montoya was sure to have some sort of alert if that kind of money was moved from the account.

But he’d have no way of knowing who moved it.
All Joel had to do was transfer the money, pay the gambling debt, then sit tight. No changes in his lifestyle, no extravagant purchases. Since he’d had time to think about it, disappearing was the worst thing he could do. If he up and disappeared, Edward would know he stole the money, and Joel would always be looking over his shoulder.

What he needed was something to divert Edward’s attention when he discovered the missing funds. His boss tended to focus on one thing at a time—it was one of the reasons for his success.

Joel would simply have to come up with a problem bigger than missing money.

One more person and Danny believed the bed-and-breakfast would explode. He hadn’t really thought Angel was serious when he suggested Joel take a room. The fact that Joel took him up on the suggestion surprised him even more. The undercurrent of tension between the two men vibrated through the house.

He checked his watch. Almost eleven and sleep evaded him. Maybe he would walk the perimeter of the yard—it had helped last night. He shrugged into his down coat and eased down the
stairs. Cold air greeted him, and he zipped the coat up to his chin. It wasn’t usually this cold in March, and he would be glad for spring, even the hot temperatures of summer.

Danny scanned the parking lot. Funny. He hadn’t heard anyone leave, but Joel’s car was gone, and so was his Escalade. He didn’t mind Angel using the SUV, but he thought Angel would let him know first. He’d ask him about it in the morning.

A waning moon guided him as he walked by the barn, telling himself Bailey wouldn’t be at the stump. When his prediction proved true, disappointment shot through him. No use denying that he’d hoped she couldn’t sleep either.

Then he turned toward the front of the property, soon leaving the light of the house and barn behind. The quiet wrapped around him, broken only by the soft hoot of a barn owl and dried leaves under his feet.

His thoughts went back to the conversation with Kate. Could she be right that God could use him? Out here under the vast expanse of sky, it seemed possible. He looked up. Was it just last night that Bailey pointed out the North Star? In the crisp atmosphere, stars stood out against the velvet sky, stirring a sense of yearning in his heart. The heavens held him in its grip until he became unaware of time or his surroundings.

And in the beginning God created the heavens and the earth . . .
The words formed in his head, and this time, they didn’t remind him of a fairy tale.

Could he forgive himself for not going to the store when his mother asked him to? He could have handled the ice patch that killed her.

“Danny, there’s nothing you can do that will separate you from God’s love. Jesus died for every bad thing you’ve ever done, ever will do. Don’t ever forget that.”
Words his mother had told him long ago. He’d believed then. But after the wreck, he’d let guilt drive him away. Maybe it was time to let go of the past.

“Danny?”

Bailey’s voice brought him back to earth, and he turned. She stood a short distance away with a flashlight in her hand. “You shouldn’t be out here,” he said, but he was so glad she was.

“You are.” She flicked the flashlight off, and the overhead barn light illuminated her silhouette.

“I couldn’t sleep. Do you know where Joel and Angel went? His rental and my SUV are missing.”

“No. I heard a car leave right after I went upstairs, but I didn’t know who it was. I didn’t hear a second car. Why couldn’t you sleep?”

“I started thinking about last night, and I wanted to see if I could find the Little Dipper and the North Star again.”

“Did you?”

He’d gotten so caught up in the beauty of the sky, he’d forgotten to look. “No. Which way do I look for the Little Dipper?”

Bailey came closer and slipped one arm through his and turned him slightly. She raised her right hand. “Follow where I’m pointing. See, there’s the pan.”