Read Her Mistletoe Protector Online

Authors: Laura Scott

Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Romance, #Suspense

Her Mistletoe Protector (11 page)

BOOK: Her Mistletoe Protector
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Washing the dishes didn’t take long, and when he finished he pulled out the computer and tried to find the wireless signal that he’d used the last time he was here. Sure enough, the signal was weak but available, as it still wasn’t password protected.

He searched for information on Dr. Karl Errol since he still thought that Josie Gardner’s suicide wasn’t just a coincidence. He soon discovered that Dr. Karl Errol had attended Johns Hopkins to earn his doctorate and had worked for a large international pharmaceutical company before coming to work for Rachel.

Sitting back in the chair, he tried to figure out why a highly respected research scientist from Johns Hopkins had left a large pharmaceutical corporation to work for Simon Inc.

“Joey’s asleep,” Rachel said, interrupting his thoughts. She came over to the table, pulled up a chair next to him and sat down. “You should let me take a look at your arm.”

Nick grimaced and then nodded reluctantly. He worked his arm out of the sweatshirt sleeve while she jumped up and heated up water on the two-burner stove.

The angle was too awkward for him to see the extent of the injury and he was glad it didn’t throb as much as it had at first. Rachel came over with the first-aid kit they’d brought in from the car, along with a small pan of hot water.

“This might hurt,” she warned as she picked up a soft cloth and began cleaning the wound.

He didn’t say anything, too distracted by her nearness as she fussed over him. He couldn’t help remembering the kiss they’d shared and wondered if she’d let him kiss her again. Soon.

“Almost finished,” she murmured, and he blinked, realizing she was putting antibiotic ointment over the flesh wound before wrapping it with gauze.

“Thanks,” he murmured huskily. When she turned away to take the water back over to the sink, he carefully put his arm back into the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

Once she’d finished cleaning everything up, she came back to the table. It took all his willpower to turn his attention to the investigation at hand. “Tell me about Dr. Karl Errol. How long has he worked for you?”

Rachel frowned. “He’s been working for me for about three years now,” she said slowly.

“How did you come to hire him? Did he apply for a job? Or did you purposefully recruit him away from his other company?”

“Neither. Josie Gardner is actually the one who recommended him for the job. She apparently met him at a research convention and talked about some of the work we were doing. He was very interested and Josie convinced me to make him an offer. To be honest, I was surprised when he actually accepted it.”

“Why do you think he did? Accept the job, I mean?”

Rachel shrugged. “During our interview, he mentioned that he liked the way I put so much time and effort into research and development for new medications. He claimed that his old company had gone stagnant and that he was looking for change.”

Nick hesitated, knowing that she wasn’t going to like his next question. “Could it be that he was searching for a place where no one was constantly looking over his shoulder? Because maybe he liked to cut corners? What if the problem with your new diabetes medication happened in the first place because he hid something important?”

“No way... Josie would have been all over that,” she said.

“Maybe that’s why she committed suicide.”

She stared at him for a long moment. “It’s possible, but why would Karl do something like that in the first place? Why bring forward a medication that has life-threatening side effects?” She blew out a breath. “Don’t you see? There’s no logical reason why anyone, especially a well-respected researcher, would risk ruining their reputation and their career by doing something so crazy.”

He hated to admit she had a point. What could the motivation be? He shifted several scenarios through his mind. “What if he’s doing it on purpose to sabotage your company?” he mused.

Rachel closed her eyes and rubbed them. “Again, Nick, for what purpose? What’s the link between this and Joey’s kidnapping? I keep telling you that none of this makes any sense. The only logical explanation is that someone within the Mafia needed cash and orchestrated Joey’s kidnapping to get it.” She sighed impatiently. “Sabotaging the company would only make it more difficult to come up with the money. Whatever is going on within the company probably isn’t connected.”

He understood why she chose to believe the Mafia was behind the kidnapping. For one thing, the threatening letters did seem to point to the crime syndicate. But what if someone inside her company had sent them, pretending to be with the Mafia? He thought she had blinders on when it came to thinking anything bad about the people who worked for her.

“Rachel, hear me out for a minute, okay?” he said, leaning in toward her. “You said the lawsuit was filed last year and that you have already offered a generous settlement, right?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Was your settlement accepted?”

She flushed and shook her head. “Not yet.”

Interesting. “What if that was essentially the start of this mess? What if all of this—the failed medication, the lawsuit and now the kidnapping were just ways to put you out of business?”

“Who would want to put me out of business?”

“You tell me,” he countered. “Which company is your biggest competition?”

“Global Pharmaceuticals,” she answered automatically.

Global Pharmaceuticals. The same company where Karl Errol used to work. “That’s it! The link we’ve been looking for. Don’t you think it’s possible that Karl Errol, who used to work for Global Pharmaceuticals, is actually doing corporate espionage for them? That he’s sabotaging your company on purpose?”

The dawning horror in her eyes made him feel bad for shattering her trust, but, at the same time, he firmly believed they were finally onto something.

Now, all he needed was a way to prove it.

ELEVEN

R
achel didn’t want to believe Nick’s theory, but she couldn’t deny that his idea had merit. “Seems odd that Global would go to such drastic lengths to put me under,” she said softly. “But, okay, let’s say they did convince Karl to sabotage my company. And that the failed diabetes medication was part of the master plan. How does kidnapping Joey fit into the picture? Removing me as the CEO isn’t going to put the company under. Gerry Ashton has been working for the company over the past seventeen years and he’s perfectly capable of running the company without me.”

“Isn’t there anything about your management styles that could make the difference between success and failure?” Nick pressed.

Rachel clenched her teeth in frustration. She didn’t understand why he remained so focused on someone working against her from inside the company rather than the Mafia link.

Although now that Morales was dead, she was forced to admit they might never know for sure who was behind the kidnapping.

“The only difference between Gerry and me is that I take more risks in research and development,” she said. “Gerry tends to be more conservative.”

“That’s all? Nothing else?” Nick appeared disappointed by her response.

“The only other thing we disagreed about was settling the lawsuit,” she admitted. She still remembered the heated argument they’d had. Gerry had pushed so hard she had been forced to take the issue to the board of directors. “He wanted to continue to fight, but I managed to convince the board that settling right away would be better for us in the long run. And there’s still hope that the lawsuit will be settled soon.”

“How long has Ashton worked for you?” he probed.

“I’ve only been in charge as the CEO for the past three years, since my father died. Gerry was a VP colleague during the years my father was in charge.” Before he could ask another question, she quickly changed the subject. “I need to talk to you about Joey.”

Nick’s eyebrows lifted. “What about him?”

She took a deep breath and released it slowly, trying to figure out a way to articulate her concern without hurting his feelings. “Joey is at a vulnerable age, and I think it’s clear he’s looking for a father figure. I’ve noticed he’s been following you around, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t encourage him. Please try to keep your distance.”

He stared at her for a long moment. “I haven’t encouraged him on purpose,” he finally said. “Besides, I’m not sure I understand what your problem is. Showing your son how to build a fire and how to prime a well isn’t a big deal.”

“Maybe not, but can’t you see that I don’t want him to rely on you too much? Once this is over...” She trailed off, unable or maybe unwilling to put her deepest fears into words. “I just don’t want him hurt,” she repeated lamely.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Rachel,” Nick said with a frown. “I was hoping that Joey and I could hang out once in a while, even after this is over.”

Her jaw dropped in surprise. It had never occurred to her that Nick would want to continue to see her son. And, for some reason, she found the idea disconcerting. “Well, uh, I guess I’ll think about it,” she said, unable to come up with a good reason for refusing him outright.

Nick’s intense gaze bored into hers and she squirmed in her seat, feeling as if he was seeing right through her. She couldn’t explain why the two of them forging a relationship after this was over bothered her so much, but it did. She glanced at her sleeping son and rose to her feet. “I’m going to take Joey to the back bedroom.”

“Good idea,” Nick agreed readily. “I’ll stay out here, since I’ll need to keep feeding wood into the fireplace, anyway.”

She nodded, relieved to have an excuse to avoid Nick for the rest of the night. The way she’d warned Nick to stay away from her son was just as important for her to remember, as well. In all honesty, she was becoming far too dependent on Nick. She crossed over to lift her sleeping son into her arms. At nine years old, he was too big to carry, but she managed, staggering under his weight yet unwilling to ask Nick for help.

The bedroom was cool, being farther away from the fire. She set Joey on the bed and, amazingly, he didn’t wake up. She shivered and searched for more blankets. Luckily, she’d found earlier a huge hope chest filled with handmade quilts. She retrieved several of them to use as covers and then stretched out on the bed next to Joey.

After everything they’d been through, she was physically exhausted. But her mind raced, replaying every moment of the past twenty-four hours. No matter what she tried, her mind wouldn’t settle and it was only after she recited the Lord’s Prayer, the only prayer she remembered from her childhood, that she finally managed to fall asleep.

* * *

Nick dozed, waking himself up every few hours to put more wood on the fire and to make sure everything was all right outside. He hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, when they’d spent the night in the car, so he had to depend on the deeply ingrained training his four years in the Marine Corps had given him in order to keep watch, despite his bone-deep exhaustion.

He tried to formulate a plan for the following day, but every time he closed his eyes, he fell asleep. When he dragged himself off the sofa at six in the morning, dawn had lightened the darkness and the fire had dwindled.

It didn’t take long to bring the glowing embers back to life. Since it was too late to go back to sleep, he washed up in the small bathroom. He opened the medicine cabinet, thankful to find a somewhat rusty razor along with some ancient shaving cream. There were other items his uncle had left up there, too, but he limited himself to using the razor.

When he came out of the bathroom, he heard movement from the back bedroom. He wasn’t surprised when Joey’s head peeked out from behind the door. “Hi, Nick,” he whispered.

“Good morning, Joey,” he whispered back. Rachel must still be sleeping or he was sure she’d have already put an end to the brief conversation. At some point during the wee hours of the morning, he’d figured out that the main reason Rachel didn’t want him spending time with her son was that she thought he might get too attached to Joey, after the way he’d lost his own child.

Still, he couldn’t ignore the kid gazing at him with wide green eyes, so he gestured for Joey to come out of the bedroom. “Are you hungry?” he asked.

Joey nodded eagerly and slipped through the narrow opening, quietly closing the door behind him. The boy was wearing the same clothes as the day before, not that he seemed to mind. “What’s for breakfast?”

Good question. “I don’t know. Let’s take a look, okay?” He put a hand behind Joey’s back, urging him down the short hall to the main room. Rachel couldn’t be too upset with him for not waking her up, he rationalized, since she obviously needed the rest. “I think I saw some oatmeal,” he said to Joey. “Do you like oatmeal?”

“With brown sugar,” the boy said excitedly.

“I’m not sure we have any brown sugar,” he said cautiously. “But I think there’s some regular sugar, which should work just as well.”

Joey stopped in front of the fire, holding his hands toward the flames as if he were cold. “Did you keep the fire going all night, Nick?”

“Yep. It’s our main source of heat for the cabin.” He found a box of oatmeal, but it wasn’t the instant kind, so he followed the cooking directions on the label.

Joey kept up a constant stream of chatter, and Nick couldn’t help admiring the boy’s quick mind. Rachel’s son was interested in everything, from camping to sports. To help pass the time until breakfast was ready, he showed Joey how to carve small animals in pieces of wood with his penknife.

As they talked, he realized he couldn’t have kept his distance from the boy if his life depended on it.

When the oatmeal was ready, he poured the steaming breakfast into two medium-size bowls. His uncle actually did have some brown sugar stored in an airtight container, so he liberally sprinkled their breakfast before taking Joey’s hand in his.

“We have to pray before we eat,” he said.

“Why?” Joey asked, his gaze curious.

Nick sensed he was heading down a path Rachel might not approve, but he wanted Joey to be given the option of believing in God. “Because we need to thank God for the food we’re about to eat.”

Joey pursed his lips. “Is God in heaven?” he asked.

“Yes, and He’s always there for us, whenever we need Him.”

Joey frowned for a moment. “You think God was with me when I was in the dark, stinky room?” he asked.

Nick’s heart clenched and he nodded. “Yes, Joey, I do. Your mom and I were praying for God to watch over you the whole time you were gone.”

“Really?” Joey brightened at the news. “I wish I would have known that,” he confessed. “Maybe I wouldn’t have been so scared.”

Nick wished the same thing, but no sense in going back, trying to change the past. In his opinion, it was never too late to believe in the Lord.

He closed his eyes and bowed his head. “Heavenly Father, we thank You for the food and shelter You’ve provided for us, and we ask You again, to keep us safe from harm. Amen.”

“Amen,” Joey echoed.

Nick lifted his head and opened his eyes to find Rachel standing behind Joey’s chair. She’d approached so quietly he hadn’t heard her. He tensed, expecting an argument, but she simply added “Amen” to his prayer.

He immediately pushed back from the table. “Here, take my bowl of oatmeal, I’ll get more.”

She hesitated for a moment but then accepted his hot cereal and took a seat next to her son. He was touched at how they both waited until he returned before eating.

They were too busy eating to talk much. He watched with amusement as Joey quickly emptied his bowl. “Can I have seconds?” he asked anxiously.

“Of course,” Nick responded, exchanging a knowing look with Rachel. Joey hadn’t eaten much yesterday, but it appeared his appetite had returned.

“So what’s the plan for today?” Rachel asked.

“I’m not sure yet,” he answered honestly. “I should check in with my boss again, see if he can give us anything further to go on.”

She darted a glance at Joey and nodded. He sensed there was more she wanted to say but didn’t feel she could talk freely in front of Joey.

When they were finished with breakfast, Rachel insisted on doing the dishes, so he took the opportunity to do a quick perimeter check. The only problem was that Joey wanted to come with him.

He glanced helplessly over at Rachel, silently pleading with her to help. As much as he liked spending time with the boy, he needed to make sure the area around the cabin was secure. And he didn’t want Joey to come outside with him until he was convinced they were safe.

“Joey, I need you to dry the dishes for me, okay? There will be time later for you to play outside.”

“That’s women’s work,” Joey mumbled, lightly kicking at the chair.

“No, it’s not,” Nick corrected. “I did the dishes last night, so it’s only fair you take your turn.”

Joey’s disgruntled expression faded as he considered Nick’s words. “All right,” he finally agreed, going over to pick up the dish towel.

Rachel ruefully rolled her eyes and he quickly ducked outside before he broke into a wide smile. Sometimes, it paid to be able to double-team kids.

The thought caused him to pause before heading soundlessly into the dense wood. As a single mother, Rachel didn’t have anyone to count on when it came to raising Joey. She had to play the role of both parents.

Was it any wonder she was so protective?

He focused on the task at hand, moving slowly and methodically so he didn’t miss any signs now that it was daylight. The day was overcast, denying him the sunlight he would have preferred. He stood in the clearing, imagining that the log cabin was the center of a large clock with the south side, straight ahead from the door, at the twelve-o’clock position. He began to make his way around the circle.

In the three-o’clock area, he found a tuft of brown fabric stuck to the tip of a branch that was roughly shoulder height. He stared at it for a long minute, trying to estimate how long it had been there.

He could check the internet for how long it had been since the last snowfall, but he figured, from the dusting on the ground, that it had been within the past day or two. But if the snowfall had been light, the tuft of fabric might have survived intact.

By December the gun deer-hunting season was over, but bow-hunting season lasted until January. Was it possible that someone dressed in camouflage-colored clothing had been through here recently, bow hunting? Uncle Wally’s land was posted, but considering no one had been up here lately, he figured the No Trespassing signs didn’t mean much.

He wanted to believe there was a hunter in the woods rather than some other random person. Because if it wasn’t a hunter, then he was forced to consider the fact that this cabin might not be as safe as he’d thought.

* * *

Rachel finished the dishes and then went over to straighten up the quilts on the bed. Near the end table, she found an old Bible. Opening the flap, she was surprised to discover it belonged to Nick’s mother.

She carried the Bible back to the main living area, wondering if Nick’s mother had left it here or if it belonged to Nick, himself? The book was clearly old and well used. The edges of the paper were gold and there were small cutouts for each of the Bible sections. In the center there was a place for family names and she discovered it had been filled in with neat handwriting stating the names of Nick and his two sisters.

She hadn’t known about Nick’s sisters. And she realized there were probably a lot of things she didn’t know about Nick.

Curious, she opened the book and scanned the various chapters. It wasn’t easy to decipher the meaning of the writing since, according to the title page, it was written in the Authorized King James Version.

“What are you reading?” Joey asked, coming over to sit next to her on the sofa.

She glanced down at her son, remembering the conversation he’d had with Nick before breakfast. It had nearly broken her heart to hear Joey describe how alone he’d felt in the dark room where Morales had kept him. She realized now that she’d done her son a disservice by not teaching him religion. “This is a Bible, which is a collection of God’s words,” she explained, hoping she was describing it right.

BOOK: Her Mistletoe Protector
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