Gemini Rising (Mischievous Malamute Mystery Series, Book 1) Page 7

  “Sir Edward, I’m the one who should be apologizing. I was so focused on my own agenda it hadn’t occurred to me to think about what you must be going through. How you must feel. I’m sorry, please forgive me.” It was true. I had forged ahead like a crazed bull, annihilating everything in my path. In doing so, I had exposed feelings he had not yet had time to digest, or heal. I had hurt this man. I felt like a complete and utter jerk.

  He only allowed me to wallow in self-pity for a moment. Though sniffling, he quietly said, “No, you don’t understand. Receiving your call, hearing your voice…was the most comforting thing I’ve experienced since Victoria died.”

  My heart ached as I recognized the voice of loneliness and abandonment. Like me, he had lost his family, his connection to the very thing that binds us to this earth—the thing that grounds us and makes us feel like a part of something—something that has meaning. When I had reached out to him, I had done so for my own selfish reasons, and yet this man had still found in me a kindred spirit. It was at that moment that I realized Sir Edward and I needed one another to gain some semblance of that lost connection.

  I put my questions aside for the time-being, and we talked. I told him about growing up in Arizona with my parents, about family vacations, going off to college and my triumphant return home. We talked about my career and laughed over stories of my clients. And, as a dog-lover himself, he was delighted to hear about my adventures with Nicoh.

  In turn, he told me about Victoria and her parents and how doting they were, despite their busy schedules. As a child, they took her everywhere they went, immersing her in new cultures and languages and anything else that sparked her interest. He quickly pointed out that while she had grown-up privileged, Victoria was never spoiled or self-involved. Instead, she was caring and compassionate, taking nothing for granted. She was also fiercely independent. When it came time for her to start thinking about colleges, she refused to allow her parents to influence the admission boards, and was accepted to Columbia University on her own hard work and merit, where she earned a degree in Biomedical Sciences.

  Talking about Victoria seemed to lift Sir Edward’s spirits, invigorating him. Pride radiated from him as he told story after story. Though they weren’t related by blood, he loved her like the daughter he had never had. Their powerful relationship continued from the time she was a toddler, through the awful teen years and as she had entered adulthood. Now reveling in the memories he had collected, he realized he too, had meant the world to her. I felt honored to be able to share that moment with him. Using the back of my hand, I wiped the tears from my cheeks and barely managed to stifle a sniffle before my nose started running. I heard sounds on the other end of the line that lead me to believe Sir Edward wasn’t faring much better, but neither of us made a comment to that effect.

  I had planned on leaving my questions for another call—it certainly didn’t seem appropriate to address them now—so I was surprised when Sir Edward asked me to elaborate. I could tell he wasn’t simply being polite, so I proceeded.

  “I know Jonathan Silverton handled Victoria’s adoption for the Winestones. Prior to that, did you know him? Or, did he perform any other services after-the-fact for the Winestones or their company?”

  “I had never heard of him until Victoria and I read the contents of the safety deposit box. It did come as somewhat of a surprise because I knew almost all the lawyers they kept on retainer. I used many of them myself, and played a round of two of golf with the rest,” he chuckled, before continuing, “but no, I’m not aware of Joseph or Susan utilizing his services for any other purpose.”

  “It is so strange,” I commented, “his widow didn’t mention adoptions being his specialty. If anything, he seems to have been more of a generalist which is curious, because the Winestones had a bevy of lawyers at their disposal. Finding a generalist would have been easy work.

  “Besides, Silverton seemed like random choice for such an important set of circumstances. I didn’t know the Winestones—so correct me if am wrong—but from what I’ve heard about them, it didn’t seem as though they would leave something like that to chance.”

  “You are absolutely correct, they wouldn’t have. Having children had always been important to them. If they believed it to be their only opportunity, they wouldn’t have subjected themselves to that great of a risk,” Sir Edward replied. “There had to have been a valid reason for Silverton’s involvement.”

  “I agree. I wish I could track down Maxwell and Mavis Baumgardner. It seems as though they would be able to shed some light on some of these questions. Perhaps Silverton was their contact, or hired at their suggestion,” I mused.

  “That’s an interesting thought,” Sir Edward replied. “Hope this isn’t too personal, but you never came across any documents relating to your adoption in your parent’s papers, did you?”

  “Definitely not too personal,” I responded, appreciative of his consideration. “No, not a shred, though I’m not giving up yet. That does bring me to the other question I had for you—is there a possibility the Winestones knew my parents?”

  “Arianna, at this point, we can safely assume anything is possible. I can’t say I ever recall coming across your parent’s names. At least not until Victoria and I found your current birth certificate,” he paused for a moment. “Now there’s a thought. What if Silverton was their adoption lawyer, too?” he pondered out loud.

  “That would be a very convenient coincidence,” I replied. “I’ve got to see if Leah can track the Baumgardners down. The more we talk about it, the more I believe they are crucial to solving this puzzle.”

  “Great minds…” Sir Edward started, to which I finished, “think alike.”

  “They most certainly do, my dear.” He chuckled. “I’ve thoroughly enjoyed, and appreciated our conversation. If I may be so bold to say, I believe I’ve made a new friend today, though at the same time, I feel like I’ve known you forever.”

  “You may indeed be so bold.” I laughed. “I too, very much enjoyed and appreciated our conversation, but Sir Edward?” I added, in my best English accent. “If we are to be friends—new or old—you must simply call me AJ.”

  “Well, turnabout is fair play, my dear. If I must call you AJ, you must call me Sir Harry in return.” I was both stunned and touched by his proposition.

  “Are you sure?” I managed to stutter. “I thought…only Victoria…”

  He cut me off before I could finish. “It’s what she would have wanted, AJ. If she was here, she would tell you the same.”

  I stifled a sob and whispered, “Ok, Sir Harry, but just so you know, you’re stuck with me now.”

  He laughed in a way I knew we’d made a pact. A pinky-swear of sorts.

  “AJ, love, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  It was late by the time I signed-off with Sir Harry, but I wanted to touch base with Leah and Anna. I knew Leah would still be at the newspaper, so I called her first and filled her in on my activities up to that point—coming up empty in my attempt to locate the Baumgardners and after speaking with Silverton’s widow, playing wait-and-see with the information Cheryl Earley said she would collect from the UCMC archive and finally, about generating more questions than answers in my conversation with Sir Harry. Once finished, I had even more mixed feelings about my accomplishments than when I started. For my efforts, had I made any progress?

  Surprisingly, Leah reacted more positively than I would have expected. “Wow, you’ve actually gotten quite a bit of leg work done, Ajax.” When I made a noise that indicated I was giving her the scrunchy-face over the phone, she added, “Just because you don’t have tangible evidence yet, doesn’t mean your efforts were for nothing. It’s like that onion analogy, you’ve got to peel back the layers gradually to see what’s underneath. To get to the good stuff. It takes patience, determination, perseverance—” At my groan, she stopped. “What?”

  “Isn’t this dialogue hijacked from th
e speech your editor gave at last year’s journalism awards party?”

  “Not that I remember,” she groused.

  “Well, I do, because you made me fill in as your date when Boytoy Bobby bailed on you at the last minute. Besides, I think your editor filched it from some macho-high-tech-superhero-spy-action flick.”

  “Is that even an official genre?” Leah quipped. “Because I’m pretty sure Jason Statham, Vin Diesel and Dwayne Johnson would beg to differ.”

  “Ok, ok, I’m throwing in the towel on this round. You win. I get what you are saying about the onion. I did some initial work that might not have led us to much yet, but if we keep digging we’re bound to find what? A tastier piece of onion?”

  “That’s the spirit.” She giggled. “Now, as your researcher extraordinaire aka BFF, how can I assist?

  I gave her a run-down of what I had in mind, taken from the list I had created for her:

  Maxwell & Mavis Baumgardner / Sterling Joy Agency

  Question: What happened to the Sterling Joy Agency?

  Question: What “other opportunities” did the Baumgardners have in mind?

  Question: What became of the couple?

  Martin Singer / Bio dad

  Question: Are there other details surrounding his suicide?

  “It’s a good start. Just be prepared, the answers will likely lead to more questions,” she said when I finished. “In the meantime, what are your plans while you wait for the records from UCMC?”

  “I’m going to dig through my parent’s papers again, and see if I can find any references to the Winestones or to Silverton, to see if there were any prior relationships there. It’s probably too much to expect to find any adoption-specific information among their stuff at this point—I’ve been through it all a zillion times already—but I’d love to know how the Winestones came into possession of my birth certificates, as well as my parent’s address.”

  “My money is on Silverton or the Baumgardners,” Leah said.

  “I would tend to agree, but until we track down Silverton’s files or the Baumgardners themselves.”

  “Gotcha—I’ll get going on this, but I’ve got to tell you, you’re gonna owe me big time when this is all said and done,” she added.

  “Let me guess,” I replied, thinking of her recent analogy, “onion rings?”

  “You got it, girl. Extra crispy with a trough of ranch dressing.” Seriously, the girl had a one-track mind.

  ###

  My conversation with Anna went a bit more smoothly. Thankfully, no onion analogies were involved. Of course, Anna hadn’t put up with me for the better part of her life, either.

  I gave her the same run down of my activities I’d given Leah and afterward, she filled me in on what she, Abe and Elijah had been accomplished.

  When she told me about the thumb drive they’d brought back from the dealership, I asked, “Is it possible the missing assistant manager, Tanner Dolby, could be in those photos?”

  “That’s an interesting thought,” Anna admitted. “I could ask Switzer if Dolby worked at the dealership at the time of the Christmas party. If so, perhaps he would allow Bonnie to look through the photos during her downtime to help us identify him.”

  “Certainly worth a call. It would be nice to know whether Dolby was involved somehow,” I replied. “With everything else that’s gone down, it seems unlikely he was in it only to steal a high-priced luxury car.”

  “I like the way your mind works,” she replied appreciatively. “Not to change the subject, but you mentioned some items regarding Silverton you wanted to track down?”

  “Yeah, after talking with Sir Harry, we both agreed Silverton was an odd choice for handling Victoria’s adoption. Way too random—and risky—for people like the Winestones. Which made us wonder, who recommended him? The Baumgardners? Was he some sort of package deal? If so, did my parents use him too?

  “I’d also like to know if Silverton procured the birth certificates and my parent’s address for the Winestones, assuming they were not from the Baumgardners. Anyway, I know I’m throwing a lot of miscellaneous stuff out there.”

  “No, this is all good. It would be huge if Leah caught a lead on the Baumgardners. In the meantime, we can definitely hit the Silverton angle. I have a positive feeling that sometime soon, one of these threads is going to start unraveling.”

  “I totally agree. Again, thank you, Anna. Please say hi to Abe and Elijah for me.”

  “Will do,” she replied. “Oh, and AJ? You made quite an impression on Sir Edward, for him to ask you to call him Sir Harry.”

  Though she couldn’t see me, I was blushing deeply. “Um, we did get along fairly well, but I don’t know about an impression.”

  “Oh, AJ,” she laughed, “you don’t fool me. I wasn’t asking you if you had made an impression on Sir Edward, I was telling you that you had.”

  “Wh-what?” I stuttered, my face on fire at this point. I was sure she could tell, but before I could ponder that any further, she replied, laughing even harder.

  “Who do you think he called after the two of you hung up? He wanted to thank me personally for giving you his number. He told me your conversation both inspired and invigorated him. In fact, he’s convinced if anyone is going to figure this whole thing out, it’s going to be you. So, go Team AJ!”

  I wondered, could severe blushing cause second-degree burns?

  Chapter Eighteen

  I awoke the next morning with a sense of anticipation and purpose. Despite the fact we hadn’t gleaned much information up to this point, I was convinced we were on the right track, and once we toppled that first hurdle, there would be no stopping us.

  I reflected on the events of the past several weeks as Nicoh and I walked briskly through the neighborhood. I was so deep in thought I failed to see my next-door neighbor, Suzy Kemp, waving as we passed her house. Nicoh, however, was on full alert—Suzy typically had snacks in her pocket—and suddenly stopped short, forcing the lead to strain between us. Suzy chuckled as I gasped in surprise, barely catching myself before I face-planted into her ocotillos.

  “I’m so sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to alarm you.” She patted Nicoh on the head and reached into her treasure trove, better known as the snack pocket, as his tail thwapped wildly on the ground. As usual, he was oblivious to the fact he’d nearly graced me with multiple face-piercings—compliments of the ocotillos—in his lust of the elusive Suzy snack.

  “It’s ok, Suze, it’s not your fault.” I glared at Nicoh. “I was distracted, though it also appears we both need training.”

  Suzy laughed. “You were pretty focused. I called out a few times and flopped my hands about like a crazy chicken, but only Nicoh seemed amused.”

  It was my turn to laugh. “I’m sure your crazy chicken routine was quite entertaining, but I have a sneaking suspicion it was the never-ending supply of snacks you keep in your pocket that drew his attention.”

  “Oh, that reminds me, I meant to give you this.” She reached into the non-snack pocket of her hoody, pulled out a small white envelope and handed it to me.

  “As you might remember, I was out of town visiting my sister for the past several weeks.” At my nod, she continued, “I had my mail held at the post office and didn’t have time to go down and pick it up until now. Anyway, looks like they inadvertently put this in my box.” I briefly looked at the envelope. I didn’t recognize the handwriting, and there was no return address, though it had been postmarked in Phoenix a few weeks earlier.

  “Thanks, Suze, probably an exclusive offer to refinance, or better yet, I’ve won all-expenses paid trip to the Bahamas.”

  “Well now, perhaps I should take that back?” Suzy teased.

  “Weren’t you just out of town?” I teased back.

  “Honey, did I fail to mention I was with my sister? I believe I’ve earned that vacation.”

  We both laughed as I thanked her and we headed home. A FedEx package was waiting on the front step when we got there. It co
uldn’t be the information from Cheryl Earley at UCMC already, could it? I could barely contain my excitement as I hustled Nicoh in to the house and threw everything on the counter. After a deep breath, I ripped the box open and whooped at the top of my lungs. It was from Cheryl.

  My hands shook as I read the note she had enclosed, which simply read: AJ—it was truly a pleasure talking to you earlier this week. Enclosed are the documents we discussed. I hope they help you find what you are looking for. Keep in touch—Cheryl.

  Before delving into the contents, I gave her a quick call, and upon receiving her voicemail, left her my thanks. I then called Leah and shared my good news.

  “I’ll be over in ten,” she squealed.

  “Really? Are you sure?”

  “Are you kidding? This could be more exciting than a Duran Duran reunion tour.” I shuddered. Depending upon whose mouth it was coming out of, an exclamation like that could go either way. Fortunately, Leah had been my best friend since we were six, so it was definitely leaning toward the positive.

  As promised, she arrived with two minutes to spare, though I hated thinking how many laws she’d broken along the way, especially considering her office was at least twenty minutes from my house, without traffic. I could only stare as she bustled through the door, two Starbucks in hand. My estimate of roadway violations increased two-fold.

  “Where is it?” she blurted out as she plunked a beverage in front of me.

  “Holy crap, Leah—are you sure you haven’t already had enough caffeine?” I began to feel a bit of remorse for her co-workers.

  “Sorry, sorry.” She dabbed at the liquid she’d slopped on the counter. “I’m really excited!”

  “Hmm, I couldn’t tell.”

  “Aren’t you excited?”

  “Yeah, though I’m not sure it necessitated defying the laws of motion.”