Sweet Peas in April (11 page)

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Authors: Clare Revell

Tags: #christian Fiction

BOOK: Sweet Peas in April
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Adam ended the call and immediately hit the intercom. “I'm expecting an associate to come over. A Mr. Tom Chandler. Can you ask reception to send him straight up when he arrives, please?”

Next he rang Sam's father. “Vincent, its Adam. Is Sam there?”

“No, she isn't. I haven't heard from her since Thursday. Why?”

“No reason.”

“You wouldn't call for no reason. What's going on?”

Adam drummed his fingers on the desk. “Her office got trashed and no one has seen her since Friday. It's highly possible she did it in a fit of temper and has gone off somewhere to sulk. But I doubt it. If she calls you, can you let me know?”

“Of course. Do the same if she rings you.”

“I will.”

The door opened. The PA came in with his tea and another woman. “This is Esther Parks from HR.”

Adam smiled. “Sit down, Miss Parks. I was wondering if you could shed some light on something for me.”

“Sure, if I can.” Esther Parks sat and crossed her legs, her short skirt riding up. She smiled at him, making no effort to tug it down.

Adam cleared his throat. “I was checking the employee records against the security clearances and something doesn't add up.”

“You should ask Sam, she's the CEO.”

“I would, but she isn't here today and I need the information. I'm handing the case over to an associate later today.”

“I thought you were handling the case.” Miss Parks frowned, picking at a nail on her right hand.

“I was, but I'm going to be tied up in court for the next week or so. Besides, as I'm Sam's husband, it'd be less prejudicial if someone else handled it. So if you could help me with this last query, it would be much easier for my replacement.”

Miss Parks nodded slightly, but didn't look at all happy about the idea.

Adam pointed to a sheet of paper. “These names, Max Holder, Troy Branning and Peter Carter. None of them have the clearance to access the accounts they were in charge of…” He broke off at a knock at the door. “Come in.”

The PA stuck her head around the door. “Mr. Chandler is here.”

“Send him in.” Adam stood.

DI Chandler was taller than he'd imagined, easily over six foot, dark hair, smart suit and tie. He held out a hand. “Tom Chandler.”

Adam shook his hand. “Adam West. This is Esther Parks. She's explaining the last file to me before I hand the case over to you.”

DI Chandler sat. “Don't let me interrupt you.”

Adam turned back to Miss Parks. “So, the security clearances?”

“Sam is the only person who could authorize that amount of money to change accounts. The way it works is the accountant in charge of various accounts does the banking and transfers, but Sam has to sign off on them herself.”

“What if she isn't here? Surely that would just hold things up?” Personally that didn't sound right, even to him. It was no way to run a banking system. “Who's the VP? Can't he cosign off on things?”

“Not always, but in any case, we don't have a VP.”

DI Chandler straightened in his chair. “You don't?”

Adam frowned. “So whose signature is this?”

“That's Peter. He uses his full surname when he signs things—it's double barreled. Sam didn't want a VP. It's almost as if she either didn't trust anyone or didn't want anyone to know what she was doing. Peter is acting VP. He was in line for the CEO job until Sam got it.”

“So what's his full name then?” Adam asked, his pen hovering over the paper.

“Carter-Higgins.”

“I see.”

“He was so mad when Sam got the job instead of him. Swore he'd make her pay, but he didn't, because she made him acting VP and promised she'd do right by him. Of course, she didn't have any intentions of doing so. Because if she did she'd have done it by now.”

“Did he say how he was going to get even?” DI Chandler asked.

She shook her head. “No. I need to go, sorry, I have another meeting.”

“Thanks for your help.” Adam stood as she left, then sat down again. “Just make sure you're available if we need to ask you anything else.”

She nodded. “Of course.”

Adam waited until she'd shut the door behind him, then leaned back in the chair and looked at the police officer. “Like I said, the whole thing is a mess and a lot more complicated than I initially thought.”

DI Chandler looked at him. “I think you should start from the beginning.”

****

Sam struggled to open her eyes. She was hot and kicked off the covers. She groaned and rolled onto her side. Pink wallpaper assailed her. She blinked hard and rolled onto her back again. Oh, that's right, she was staying at her aunt's.

“Hey, sleepy head.” Lips kissed her forehead, working down her face to her jawline.

She turned away before he could reach her lips. “Peter, don't.”

“How are you feeling now?”

“Not great.” She tried to think. She remembered cooking dinner and then someone was at the door. Peter… He must have followed her here or found her aunt's address from somewhere.

“Keep still.” His hand was cool on her forehead. “You're burning up. Let me give you something to help.”

“No, I…” She tried to get up. Her aunt's address was on the card file on her desk. He could have gotten it from there. But she didn't remember saying she was going to her aunt's.

“Don't be difficult, Sam.” He pushed her down.

“How did you find me?” She broke off as he gave her a shot of something. “What was that?”

“Just something to help clear your mind.”

“My mind is perfectly clear.”

“You're not thinking straight. You said you were going to the police over the missing files, but I can't have you spoil things now, not when we are so close. One last bank transfer and we can have everything we ever dreamed of. It'll all be done and dusted and we'll be home free. However, I do need to leave you for a while.”

“Where are you going?”

He pulled her hands above her head and tied them to the headboard. “Just lie still for me until I come back. This is for your own protection. You've been walking in your sleep and I can't have you vanishing here. The meds will make you sleep again, and when you wake, everything will be fine and you'll be better.” He kissed her cheek.

“What day is it?”

“Monday afternoon.”

“I need to call Adam. We had a meeting today.”

“I already emailed the office. And we don't need him now. It's just you and me.” He ran a hand down her face, his finger running over her lips.

Sam bit him.

Peter laughed. “You'll come around. Once you wake you'll understand. Now be good.”

Sam tried to get free as he left, but the bonds were too tight and her eyes were too heavy. The light began to fade as the darkness crept around her again. “Adam…” she whispered. “Find me…”

Then she heard a small voice whisper.
Cast all your cares upon Him, for He careth for you.
The minister had preached on that at their wedding. Was God still there and in control? She prayed He was and that he'd lead Adam to her. She needed them both.

10

Tuesday. Nine in the morning. Adam looked at his watch, again. There was still no sign of Sam or any word from her or reply to his numerous texts and calls. Of course there was a chance she was somewhere with no mobile phone coverage, but she'd have to be up in the highlands of Scotland or in a faraday cage for that to happen in the UK these days.

He no longer had a choice. DI Chandler knew Sam was missing, but was refusing to let Adam have anything more to do with the case. Jumping in his car, Adam drove to the police station in the center of Headley Cross. He went up to the desk. “Can I speak with DS Painter, please?”

Within a couple of minutes, David appeared. “Hi, Adam, what's up?”

“I need to report a missing person—the friend I mentioned on the phone yesterday. I know you're narc, but this is complicated and I know I can trust you.”

“Come on through and I'll take some details.”

Adam followed him into an interview room and sat down.

David sat by the desk and pulled out some paper. “OK. What's her name?”

“Samantha West.”

“From church? We picked her up for obstruction last week.”

“Yeah. Otherwise known as Sam Reece, CEO of Wyatt Finance Inc.” Adam took a deep breath. “She's my wife.”

David's face dropped a mile. “I'm sorry? Did you say Sam is your wife?”

Adam worried his bottom lip. “Yeah. We split up after our daughter died ten years ago. Actually, if I'm being honest here, I walked out on Sam, but we're not divorced. But that's beside the point. The more I looked into the case, the worse it got, and the more involved Sam appeared to be. Yesterday, I went to her office to find it trashed and her missing.”

“Did you contact DI Chandler?”

“Yes, I got the uniformed boys involved too, but they seemed to think she did a runner with the money and wouldn't listen to my concerns.”

“Then let's get the DI down here, before we go any further.” David picked up the phone and spoke rapidly. “He'll be right down.”

Adam pulled out his phone and texted Sam again. “Just wish she'd pick up. Even if all she says is
get lost
. Last time we spoke, we had a fight.”

“What about?”

He shrugged. “It's not important…”

DI Chandler came in and sat down. “Mr. West.”

Adam nodded. “DI Chandler.”

David looked at him. “You've reported Sam missing and the last time you saw her, you fought. I'd say it's important.”

“I wasn't the last to see her, but fine. She accused me of having an affair. Not that we've been together since we split. In fact, the first time I saw her in the last ten years was when I took this case. And if I'd known it was her, I wouldn't have done.” He sucked in a deep breath, and lowered his voice. “I left with Freddie and Jason Bryant about three on Friday afternoon, or thereabouts. We went to my office, which my PA can confirm. The Bryants have been helping do the leg work on this case.”

“I've read their notes and spoken to them,” DI Chandler said.

“I then left to go on the church retreat. Actually, Jason drove. They picked me up on Friday about five-thirtyish. I got home late on Sunday evening and went to Sam's office for a meeting yesterday, to find her car parked outside her office, but no one has seen her since Friday, and her office has been trashed, files missing or deleted.”

David looked up from his notes. “I still have to ask if you have an alibi for the weekend.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “Is half the church enough of an alibi for you? The only time I was alone the whole weekend was when I went to bed. Once I realized the files were missing I rang you both yesterday.”

“Who was the last to see her?”

“Peter Carter—”

“The guy we arrested for drunk in charge when we arrested Sam?” David asked.

Adam nodded.

“Actually,” DI Chandler said. “He goes by several names. Peter Carter-Higgins. Peter Higgins. Joseph Brown. Paul Clements, the list goes on. And he has a record.”

“What?” Adam said, his stomach pitting.

DI Chandler opened the file in his hand. “Assault, battery, kidnap, rape, extortion, fraud, as well as DUI, DIC and embezzlement.”

Adam swallowed the rising nausea. “And he's got Sam because she knows he's behind this.”

“We don't know that for sure,” DI Chandler said. “All the evidence points to her.”

“I know, but I know Sam.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. He unhooked the frog USB pen drive. “This is the missing data from their computers. I backed everything up on Friday afternoon before I left.”

“Thank you.”

David looked at Adam. “Leave this with us. If you hear anything or think of somewhere she'd have gone, give me a call.”

Adam nodded and left, praying hard all the way to Sam's house. He'd looked up her address in the church member's directory earlier. The key was, as always, under the flower pot. He'd told her years ago that wasn't safe but was thankful she'd chosen to ignore him. He let himself in.

The place was a mess.

Either she was a rotten housekeeper, which he knew she wasn't, or someone else had been here. He pulled out his phone. “David, I'm at Sam's. Someone's been in here as well. It's twenty-seven Hurricane Way.”

“I'm on my way. Don't touch anything.”

“OK.”

He slowly walked around the house. On the dresser in the bedroom, lay the chain she'd worn on Friday. Her wedding ring circled it.

Adam picked it up and put it into his pocket, before heading back down to the lounge.

Photos were scattered across the floor.

The wedding album was on the table, his head methodically cut out of every single picture.

****

Daylight streamed through the windows. Sam looked at Peter. “You're back.”

He nodded. “It took longer than I hoped, but everything's done now. How are you feeling? I'll make us some lunch if you want it.”

“Lunch?”

“It's Tuesday. You slept the whole time I was gone. Are you thirsty?”

She nodded, pulling on her restraints. “And my arms hurt.”

Peter untied her. “Sorry, but like I said, I didn't want you wandering off again. Do you feel better?”

Sam took the bottle of water he offered and drained half of it. “Yes.” She rubbed her wrists, deciding it would be best to go along with whatever he said and wanted. She knew the truth, but she also knew he was capable of anything. Her head ached and she felt the same way she did the one time she'd experimented with drugs at university. Like she had a hangover or something.

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