Athena Force 7: Deceived Page 12

  Lynn remained at the table and finished her coffee, her thoughts on Nick and what Sonya had said about women of their generation.

  Certainly Lynn wasn’t one of those women who desperately needed a man in her life, who defined who she was by what a man thought of her. She was just beginning the process of defining herself.

  Nor was she in a hurry for marriage. Someday she’d like to bind her life to a man’s, but certainly not anytime soon. That didn’t mean she didn’t want a real relationship based on not only sexual desire but emotional intimacy, as well.

  She dumped her empty foam coffee cup in the trash, then headed for the computer lab. As she took a seat at one of the computers, she wasn’t alone in the room. Several other students were already working. She waved to a guy she knew, then settled in and powered up the machine.

  It was funny, for the past few weeks since spending time with Nick, she’d spent less time chatting on her computer. It was so much more wonderful having a real relationship instead of one built on technology.

  She shoved thoughts of Nick away and focused on the reason she’d come to the lab in the first place.

  It had been years ago, when she’d been thirteen, that Jonas had first shown her the news accounts of her parents’ deaths. At that time Lynn had been hungry for any detail of their lives and deaths.

  Jonas had saved clippings and photos to answer her questions about where and whom she had come from. He’d also shown her a bank book that contained the information about the trust fund her parents had left behind for her. When she got older, the realization had sunk in that she was a wealthy woman in her own right.

  Seeing the figure run across the grounds with a speed and agility to match her own had ignited questions. What had the person wanted? Was there something she didn’t know about herself?

  She knew the computers here at the college were linked to all kinds of news services and also tied into the college library system of newspapers from the last thirty years or so. She should have no problem pulling up those old news stories that Jonas had shown her so many years ago.

  It took her only minutes to pull up the link to the Miami Herald. In the search box she put her parents’ names, Malcolm and Anne Winters, then she added the words, yacht…drowning and storm.

  The results she got were overwhelming, and she realized quickly she had to narrow down the search. It had been foolish for her to put the words drowning and storm in a search of a Miami newspaper. Every year there were dozens of storms and drownings in the area.

  Once again she typed into the search box, this time listing only her parents’ names. It took only seconds for her to get the dialogue box NO MATCHES FOUND.

  She frowned and tapped her index finger against the mouse. She had no idea how sensitive the search function might be for old newspapers.

  Her parents had died when she was five months old. She’d been born in December. That meant her parents had to have died in the month of April. She would have to read the papers for that month and see if she could find any report of the accident and storm that had claimed their lives.

  There was no way she was going to make her classes today. This was far more important than anything she could learn from a teacher. She intended to sit here until she got some information.

  Once again she thought of the person she’d seen running across the backyard the night before. She had no idea if the person had been male or female. All she knew was that the person had run like the wind…run like her.

  Jonas had always told her she was an anomaly, that her unusual speed and agility, her heightened senses had been some sort of genetic gift. If that was true, then how was it possible that there might be somebody else like her?

  Hours later she leaned back in the chair and moved her shoulders up and down in an attempt to alleviate some of the exhaustion that weighed her down.

  Nothing.

  She’d found nothing about the boating accident that had taken her parents away from her. She’d gone through every newspaper for the month of April. There had been stories about murders and robberies, fires and even a shark attack or two, but nothing about a millionaire and his wife dying in a storm.

  But she’d seen the clippings. So, why hadn’t she been able to find them?

  As she drove home, she once again thought of the person who had tried to get into the house the night before. And thinking back, she remembered several times when she’d had the feeling she was being watched, that somebody was nearby.

  Was it possible the FBI were watching her? That somehow they’d tied her to the thefts of precious artifacts? Was it possible Jonas’s contact hadn’t straightened things out with that agency after all?

  She shook her head. That didn’t make sense. She could understand the FBI watching her, watching the house but why would any of them try to break in? If they wanted in, if they wanted her, they’d get a warrant and show up at the front door. She wouldn’t have been left to chase after the person and she would have left the house in handcuffs.

  Confusion stayed with her when she got back home. She was vaguely disappointed that Nick wasn’t waiting for her when she pulled through the gates. She’d gotten accustomed to him meeting her each day after her classes. But he’d worked all night and had probably gone home to get some sleep before meeting with his family this evening.

  She hoped the meeting went well. It would be nice if his family made peace with him and erased some of the dark shadows she occasionally saw flit across his eyes. She knew that hunger for family and she hoped Nick’s problems with his were resolved.

  A wonderful fragrance of apples and cinnamon wafted in the air when she entered the house. Lynn followed the scent into the kitchen where Rita sat at the table with a cup of coffee in front of her.

  “Apple pie?” Lynn asked.

  “Dumplings.” Rita looked over at the clock on the oven. “You’re later than usual. Did you have coffee with your friends?”

  Lynn slid into the chair opposite the housekeeper. “No, I didn’t even go to classes today.”

  Rita looked at her in surprise. “Is everything all right?”

  Her first instinct was to reassure the plump Cuban woman that everything was fine. But it wasn’t fine, and Lynn wasn’t going to pretend it was. She released a deep sigh. “No, everything isn’t all right. I’m confused, Rita.”

  “Confused about what?”

  “My parents died in a boating accident in a storm when I was five months old.” Rita nodded and Lynn continued. “But I just spent the morning going through all the local and national newspapers for the month and that whole year, and I can’t find any record of such an accident.”

  Rita frowned. “I’m sure there must be a logical explanation for that. You know Mr. Jonas has always said your parents were eccentric. Maybe the story was intentionally kept out of the papers for some reason or another.”

  Lynn shook her head. “No, that’s not right, because a long time ago Jonas showed me news clippings about the accident. Not only were there reports about their accident, but there were also several about my father’s philanthropic work with charitable foundations.”

  Rita shrugged. “I don’t know anything about clippings.” Her dark eyes filled with concern. “What’s wrong, Lynn? Why are you looking for reports of tragedy?”

  She thought carefully before answering. Why was it suddenly so important that she know more? Because she’d seen somebody possibly as skilled as her. Because the image of that person running and leaping had put questions into her head. “I’m curious. It’s been a long time since I read about my parents. I guess I’m hungry to know more about them.”

  “You’re just feeling lonely. Things will be better when Mr. Jonas returns. He’ll have the answers you need.”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” Lynn replied, then excused herself.

  A few minutes later she called her uncle from her room, unsurprised when the call went directly to his voice mail. He’d said he wouldn’t be communicating until h
e returned home on Monday.

  He must be in the middle of some intense negotiations, probably on a defense contract. She wished he were here to answer her questions. She wished she’d asked more questions in the past.

  She walked over to her window and stared outside. From this vantage point she could see the perimeter wall in the distance and her gaze went directly to the place where she’d seen the figure disappear over the wall the night before. She tapped a finger against the glass, then sighed and turned away.

  She was going after the urn and vase tonight. She was banking on the fact that nobody would be prepared for lightning to strike twice in the same place. The FBI had thwarted her two weeks ago at the Markham Convention Center. She was gambling that they would never think she’d attempt to get into the same place so soon after the failed attempt.

  She had no intention of changing her routine. She knew the security cameras would capture her leaving, but tonight would be no different from any other night. There was no way she could be tied to the robberies. She’d long ago established a pattern that would make it difficult for anyone to prove what she did when she left the house each night.

  She spent most of the afternoon going over her plans again and again. She checked and rechecked the floor plans for the convention center, making sure there was nothing she’d missed in her initial research.

  Dinner was a quiet affair with Rita and Arturo in the kitchen. Arturo spent the meal entertaining her with stories about his childhood in Cuba and she wondered if Rita had told her husband that Lynn was depressed. Love for the couple filled her heart.

  When dinner was finished she returned to her room. At six-thirty her phone rang. She half hoped it was Jonas, but was pleasantly surprised to hear Nick’s voice.

  “Hi…where are you?” she asked.

  “At the enchanted cottage. I needed a little quiet time before heading into the lion’s den.”

  “Oh, Nick. I hope things go well for you. It would be wonderful if you could have some sort of relationship with your family again.”

  “We’ll see how things go,” he replied. It was obvious from his tone of voice that he had no expectations about his night to come.

  “I spent the day trying to find information about my parents,” she confessed.

  “Really? What did you find out?”

  “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” She ran a hand over the brocade material of her bedspread, her fingers tracing the lines of one of the lavender flowers that decorated the spread.

  “Where did you look?”

  She told him about the unsuccessful newspaper search. “I even did a Web search and came up with nothing. Jonas showed me news clippings about them, and the accident years ago, but I couldn’t find any record of them.”

  “Have you asked Jonas about it?”

  She sighed. “I haven’t had a chance. He’s still not answering his phone. I’m going to talk to him about them as soon as he gets back home.”

  “What are your plans for this evening?” he asked.

  “I’m going to study for a test I have next week, then go to bed early.” She hated to lie to him, but the last thing she wanted was to bring trouble to his door if trouble should come. Better he not know anything about the work she did for Jonas and the government. Eventually, if their relationship continued, then she’d share all of her secrets with him.

  “Lynn, I’ve been thinking about that intruder last night.”

  “What about it?”

  “I can’t help but think that it might have been an inside job, and I have a favor to ask of you.”

  “What?”

  “You mentioned before that you keep the books for Jonas. Does that mean you also take care of his payroll?”

  “Yes, I do. Why?”

  “I’d like a copy of everyone who is on the payroll. I’d like to do some background checks and see if we can find out if somebody who works here was the person who tried to break in.”

  Lynn sat up on the bed. “But why would somebody who works for us try to break into the house?”

  “For starters, if somebody is having financial problems, it’s possible they or someone connected to them might have taken a chance.”

  “All right. I guess I could get you a list of the people who work for Uncle Jonas,” she said.

  “I have one more favor,” he said. “Could we keep this just between you and me? I hate to ask you to keep secrets, but I’d prefer Jonas doesn’t know about it until I’ve checked everyone out.”

  He wasn’t asking her to lie, he was simply asking her to keep silent until he could sort things out. “I don’t have a problem with that. I’ll have the list for you first thing in the morning.”

  “Great. If I can find the culprit before Jonas gets home, then I’ll feel better about the security breach.”

  She hadn’t realized until this moment just how personally he was taking the security problem. “It’s no problem, Nick.” She looked at her wristwatch. “And shouldn’t you be leaving? You don’t want to be late for the meeting with your family.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. Guess it’s time for me to head out of here. How about we go back to Smokey’s tomorrow night?” His voice deepened. “I’m in the mood to dance with you again.”

  Pleasure swept through her. “Sounds wonderful. Just let me know when and I’ll be ready.”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow to set up a time.”

  “Nick, good luck tonight.”

  “Thanks, I’ll call you tomorrow.” With these words he clicked off.

  She left her bedroom and went downstairs to the study, where Jonas’s computer sat, ready for use. This was the computer she often worked on when she was doing work for her godfather.

  She’d never wandered through the files before. Usually she pulled up the financial program she used and did whatever needed to be done. This time she pulled up a directory and studied the files contained on the hard drive.

  Maybe there was something about her parents in a file, some information that would tell her more about them, about what kind of people they had been.

  She opened dozens of files but found nothing of interest. She finally pulled up the payroll records and printed them to give to Nick. Then she shut off the computer and carried the papers upstairs with her.

  The rest of the evening stretched out before her. It would be hours before she would be able to leave to get the urn that Jonas had indicated he wanted.

  Nothing had been as hurtful to her as Jonas questioning her ability to continue to help him in this work. She had to get the urn to reaffirm his belief in her, and she needed to get the urn to reaffirm her belief in herself and her ability to do the work that Jonas loved.

  It was midnight when she left the house. Clad in jeans and a T-shirt, she walked with the nonchalance of a woman with nothing to hide, as if this night was like a hundred other nights.

  The trunk of her car contained all that she would need: dark clothing, a stocking cap and the tools of the trade all neatly packed in an oversize book bag.

  She got into her car and punched the remote button to open the gates at the end of the driveway. As she left the house behind, she focused on the next step. About three miles down the road was a liquor store that had gone out of business. The alley behind the place was a perfect place for her to change clothes and prepare for the job ahead.

  Within minutes she was back in the car clad in black jeans and a long-sleeved black T-shirt. As she drove, she drew deep breaths, centering herself for the task ahead, hoping she was right that nobody would suspect the convention center would be hit again so soon after the last failed robbery.

  She was also praying that Jonas’s contact hadn’t lied to him and the situation with the FBI had been resolved.

  She parked her car in front of a house in a residential neighborhood three blocks away from the convention center. After the job was done, she’d drive for another hour or so, putting additional miles on the car so time and distance couldn’t be matched u
p.

  She wasn’t going in the same way she had last week. She’d found another air vent that led to what appeared to be a small janitorial closet.

  It would be a little trickier, as this particular vent was on the side of the building rather than in the back. She’d have to keep an eye out for security guards.

  When she reached the side of the convention center, she crouched in the shadows of a large bush and eyed the scene before her. Thankfully there was little light on this side of the building, just enough for her to see the vent she intended to use to get inside.

  She pulled on gloves, then exchanged the ball cap for the stocking cap to completely hide her hair. She cocked her head and listened, ignoring the audible beat of her own heart to focus on the noise surrounding her.

  She heard the scrape of boots against the concrete walk out front, heard the strike of a match and the intake of breath as one of the guards lit a cigarette.

  There seemed to be only one guard on duty, and while he smoked his cigarette Lynn removed the cover of the vent and slithered through. Once inside she turned back to the vent cover and balanced it so it looked as if it hadn’t been removed, then she clicked on her penlight to orient herself.

  Just as she’d hoped, she found herself in a small room used to store janitorial supplies. The air in the room was thick with the scent of astringent ammonia, bathroom deodorizer and floor wax.

  The penlight showed metal shelving units of supplies, not only the cleaning items, but also rolls of toilet tissue and paper towels.

  She moved to the doorway that would lead her out of the supply closet and pressed her ear against the door. She heard absolutely nothing to indicate any human presence on the other side of the door.

  She shut off her penlight, twisted the doorknob and eased the door open, grateful there was no squeak or groan. Once again she stood perfectly still and listened. Again she heard nothing to cause her alarm.

  The hallway outside the closet was dark, but she knew from studying the floor plans that if she followed it to the right it would lead her into the main artery that ran between the various exhibit rooms.