Heart Wish Page 3

  Kendall’s sharp retort wakes me up. The frown on her face tells me I have failed in my mission to make her life easier. I’ve let my past color my ability to do my job. I know better than that. Usually, I do a more efficient job of compartmentalizing my life. Something about this has burrowed deep under my skin. I need to pull it together and deliver on my promise to Tristan. I told him I could be professional on this assignment.

  It’s about time for me to dig deep and demonstrate some of my firm resolve Uncle Sam so thoughtfully drilled into me. I reach out to shake her hand. “I apologize. I was rude. Let’s try this again. Nice to meet you, Kendall Kordes. I’m Jameson Payne. I specialize in solving other people’s problems. Let’s get started on yours.”

  CHAPTER 3

  KENDALL

  WHEN DID IT GET SO hot in my office? I know Colette has been trying to spend less on air-conditioning, but this is ridiculous. Although he’s not as tall as Tyler, Mr. Payne is an imposing presence as he stands quietly watching over my shoulder. I don’t know what kind of cologne he wears, but it makes me want to forget my problems and cuddle against his chest. Wordlessly scolding myself for my wayward thoughts, I grab an index card and fan myself for a moment before I take my purse off my lap and set it on the floor beside my feet. I clear my throat and make a mental note to focus on my job.

  More sharply than I intend to, I pivot around on my office chair and face my computer. I take a deep breath and jiggle my mouse to wake up my sleeping monitor. Although I know what’s going to appear, I cringe when the black background slowly creeps across the surface and a grizzly skull and cross bones with blood dripping out of the eye sockets forms on the screen. An ominous countdown clock is ticking in the lower-left-hand corner. The numbers seem to be counting down faster than the speed of sound.

  “Now what?” I whisper softly as I tilt my head back to look up at Mr. Payne. He moves closer to me as he squats down and studies my screen carefully. “I can see how that would put a hitch in your workday, for sure,” he answers without taking his eyes off the screen.

  For several seconds, neither of us say anything. The silence is oppressive. I’m sure he can hear the sound of my racing heart. I’m not sure which is more overwhelming — the threat to my career or his presence mere inches from me. Since Quinn’s death, I live in a bubble of politeness. I can interact with people in a social setting as long as they stay at a polite distance. On so many fronts, Mr. Payne is assaulting my space bubble. His very presence here makes me feel inadequate.

  On a personal level, I don’t let many men close to me anymore. Perhaps it is an unreasonable reaction to what happened to my son, Quinn. Still, I can’t help the way I feel.

  As much as Jameson annoys me, it’s hard to ignore him. On a purely physical level, the man just smells good. It has been a long time since I have been struck with unadulterated lust and desire. The scent of Jameson brings back memories of long nights cuddled in front of the fireplace watching movies and feeling Lyle’s arms around me. It’s a beautiful fantasy, but it’s not my reality. Lyle is long gone, and earlier, Jameson was questioning me as if he thought I was the world’s biggest idiot. I guess I’ll have to be content with living in the world of my romance novels for now.

  There couldn’t be a worse time for this to happen. Colette is thinking about retiring from Locate My Heart. She wants to hand the reins over to someone who shares her passion and vision for lost children and their families. I haven’t been with Locate My Heart as long as some, but my background is more varied. Because of the way my life unfolded, I never got to go to college and get my Master’s degree in social work like I planned. I’ve cobbled a few courses together here and there and earned an undergraduate degree in interdisciplinary studies, but I know if Colette decides to hire a Director, I’ll be competing with people who will be more qualified on paper. In many ways, my ability to save our network from this cyber-assault is going to be the ultimate show-and-tell of my ability to function as a Director.

  When Mr. Payne reaches up and taps my thigh to get my attention, I have to stifle my squeak of surprise. I was so lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice he has been trying to ask me a question. I take a deep breath and try to calm my racing heart. “Do you think this is catastrophic?” I blurt to cover my nerves.

  “I don’t know enough to make that kind of determination yet. Did the same thing occur on all of your computers or only yours? Also, I wonder if this happened only to your private email, or if it’s also present in the email related to your business account here?”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know the answer. I didn’t get that far. I only tried to open the email program. I assume it’s attached to the Locate My Heart email. I don’t check my personal emails on this computer. I use my cell phone,” I explain as I pull my cell phone out of my purse and start to turn it on.

  Mr. Payne places his hands around mine trapping the phone between them. “Please don’t. I need to do that in a contained, controlled environment — in case the whole network has been compromised. I’m assuming you probably use the company Wi-Fi while you’re at work to save on your data plan.”

  A look of horror crosses my face as I whisper, “Oh no! This crisis may extend beyond Locate My Heart.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “My email address from my other job is on my phone too,” I explain.

  “What other job?”

  I slump back in my office chair. “I work a few hours a week at Parchment & Page Turners.”

  The puzzled look on his face speaks volumes. I quickly clarify, “It’s a custom stationery and bookstore downtown. Sinead makes her own paper and specializes in indie authors.”

  For lack of a better term, Jameson grunts at me. “Any reason you have two jobs?”

  Scrambling, I sit straight up on the edge of my chair and glare at him. “In case you haven’t noticed, Locate My Heart is a nonprofit charity. We operate on a shoestring budget. I don’t expect my boss to pay me like a Wall Street executive. I work two jobs so I can keep food on my table and have a house to put my table in. You got a problem with that?”

  “With you personally? I don’t think so. With agencies like Locate My Heart? Yeah, I take issue with them. Most of them are nothing but shell companies designed to make their founders rich and defraud the public and families who count on them. They give false hope and prey on people when they are going through hell. I just think it’s the worst kind of manipulation, that’s all. Nothing personal.”

  My mouth opens in shock. I’ve never had anyone imply the work we do here is harmful to the families involved. In fact, I have files and files of letters from parents and family members of missing children singing our praises. I don’t know where this jerk comes off. He’s plenty full of himself for someone who has just walked through our doors. He doesn’t know anything about us or why Colette started this agency. Who in the heck does he think he is?

  I have to take a couple of deep breaths. “I don’t know what you know about Locate My Heart or what you’ve heard about our agency, but everything you’ve said is patently untrue. You can read every financial report that we have ever submitted. We go above and beyond the usual reporting requirements and post them out on the web for everyone to see. If you want to know why I work two jobs, all you’d have to do is read that report and see how little I’m actually paid. Perhaps you’ll eat your cruel words soon. None of us here at Locate My Heart do this because we’re on the take. We do it because we want to reunite families. It is as simple as that. If you have another opinion of us, perhaps we need to find another computer technician.”

  In a jerky, almost uncontrolled motion, I stand up and walk away from my office chair. I run to the bathroom and grab a cup of cold water. If I hadn’t gotten away from him, who knows what other words would’ve come out of my mouth? I don’t understand why he hates us with such passion. We are the victims here. Someone attacked our computer system; we didn’t lash out at anyone else.

  Even as that thou
ght enters my consciousness, an unsettling idea starts to percolate in my brain. What if this cyber attacker is the family member of a victim we were not able to locate? What if this is a revenge attack? How would we even begin to figure that out?

  I drink the rest of my water and splash cold water on my face. When I dry my face, I realize I rushed out of the house with mascara applied to only one eye. At this point, I can’t even do anything but laugh. My disheveled appearance is indicative of how my day is going.

  My heel wobbles precariously as I try to shake off my anger. I straighten my back and run my fingers through my hair. Not for the first time in my life, I wonder if pretending everything is going to be okay will magically make things turn out better. I stride back toward my desk and stand face-to-face with Jameson. “Look, we seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot here. I don’t know how to fix that because I haven’t done anything wrong. You’re either going to believe me or you’re not. I can’t change that.”

  Jameson Payne runs his fingers through his beard as he studies me for a moment. “You’re probably right about that — more right than I’d care to admit.”

  “Tyler Colton is a person I trust. You don’t know this, but I don’t trust many people. To say I trust Tyler is a big deal. Tyler says you are the best. The fate of several dozen children could be resting in those files we can’t access. If they fall into the wrong hands, it could be devastating. Those files hold confidential information about family members and the places that the children were last seen. It could be catastrophic if that information was leaked to the public. It could compromise police investigations and court cases for years to come.”

  “What in the heck do you do with all that information?” Jameson demands.

  Standing up to my full height, I step even closer and poke him in the chest as I ask, “Have you not been listening? We find children! Are you going to help me do my job or do I need to find someone else?”

  “Why do you need all that confidential information?” he asks me skeptically. “Aren’t you just repeating what the police are saying to the public?”

  I have to swallow a growl of frustration as I sit down in my office chair and spin to face him. I gesture at my computer. “I can’t even show you what we do right now. Sometimes, witnesses are more forthcoming with us because we are not officially law enforcement. They know about organizations like ours because of celebrities like John Walsh and the National Center for Missing and Exploited children. When Colette set up Locate My Heart, she had administrators from NCMEC and ChildFind come to train us. She wanted to make sure no children fell through the cracks.”

  “That’s impressive. How do you make sure you’re not just in the way?” Jameson asks, his expression softening just a little.

  “We work very closely with local and national law enforcement agencies to make sure that what we do doesn’t jeopardize any legal proceedings. Are we aggressive? You bet. Do we push the stories in the news media to make sure people will remember that we are looking for missing children? Absolutely. Do we apologize for that? Absolutely not. That’s what we’re here for. We are here to be a voice for the families when the news media is bombarded with so many other stories that it’s difficult for them to choose what to feature. We are here to speak on behalf of the families when they are too upset and distraught to advocate for themselves. We are here to filter out the hate mail and the random offers from well-meaning folks and sometimes not so well-meaning people. We are these families’ protection against the harsh reality of a world without their child.”

  “When you put it that way, I guess I can see the benefit a program like yours might offer a family. I’m sorry, I’ve just seen a very different side of all of this,” Jameson concedes with an anguished look.

  “It’s too bad there are people like that out there, harming organizations such as ours and the families we serve. I promise you we are not all that way. The people who work at Locate My Heart are very proud of what we do. Our hearts break every time we don’t find a child in time to make a difference.”

  Jameson takes off his baseball cap and wipes his forehead with the back of his hand. “Well, Ms. Kordes, it appears you and I probably don’t agree on much. Even so, we obviously agree on the fact that every child who can be found, should be found as quickly as possible. To that end, we need to get your computer — or computers — fixed. It is entirely possible, if not probable, that your phone might be part of the problem.”

  I moan at his words. “I can’t tell you how much I didn’t want to hear you say that. My whole life is in that phone. I rarely even take paper notes anymore.” I pick my phone up off the desk and hand it to him.

  “I feel your pain. If I had to be without my phone, I would feel like someone removed an appendage.” He smiles at me and adds, “By the way, we are going to be working really closely together over the next few days. You might as well call me Jameson.”

  I decide to take the olive branch his easy conversation offers and run with it. “Okay, you can call me Kendall. I hope the only thing impacted is my computer. I can’t deal with having to set up a new phone right now.”

  Jameson raises an eyebrow at me as he says, “Do you have anything compromising on this phone? Anything you don’t want me to see?”

  I snort as I ask, “I don’t know. Is it considered a federal crime to cheat on Candy Crush and Draw Something? My brother likes to send me cheats he finds on the Internet — mainly because he knows I am a natural born puzzle solver and that it annoys the crap out of me when he gives me the answer before I’ve figured out the problem on my own. Even though we’re twins, my brother and I are a lot different. My brother likes to breeze through things the easiest way humanly possible, and I like to make sure I’ve dotted every I and crossed every T.”

  “It’s funny that you are so different,” Jameson comments as he pulls a roll of bubble wrap out of his huge duffel bag.

  “What about you? Are you just like the rest of your family?” I ask, trying to expand the friendly rapport.

  His face grows hard and his mouth tightens in a grim line. “It’s complicated.” He turns away and starts to pack up my computer. “Can you tell me which pieces of equipment are hooked up to your network?” Jameson asks abruptly.

  I become a little dizzy when I process his words. “Every piece of electronic equipment in this office runs off the same network.” I sink my head in my hands as I admit, “This is going to be a devastating blow.” I take a deep breath to steady my nerves. “All of this is going to destroy Colette. This organization and everything in it is her baby now. How could anyone do this to her?”

  Jameson lets out a slow breath as he answers, “I don’t know, but I aim to find out.”

  CHAPTER 4

  JAMESON

  TYLER STOPS IN HIS TRACKS when he enters the room which just a few hours before had resembled any old dusty storage area. “You just got here yesterday. How in the world did you get up and running so fast?”

  I grin at his shocked expression. “I’m used to working in odd, out-of-the-way places. These days, it doesn’t take me long to turn any space into a full-blown computer lab.” I went to the local salvage yard and picked up doors and sawhorses from the local hardware store and made myself a couple of computer desks. Tristan had a local computer superstore deliver a truck-load of computer equipment. So, we’re in good shape. Locate My Heart had four computers and two printers hooked up to its network. Fortunately, the only phones that were potentially impacted were Kendall’s and one of the college interns.

  Each of their computers has one of my laptops hooked up to it running diagnostics. All of my laptops are hooked up to a larger desktop analyzing the data.

  “What’s the damage?” Tyler asks as he looks around in amazement. “It looks like you have all of them on electronic life-support. This can’t be a positive development.”

  “It looks more dramatic than it likely is. First, my boss seems to have more money than God and likes to invest in expensiv
e toys. Rather than run the computers sequentially through the diagnostics, we run them all at the same time. I wanted to protect your office and its network from any potential viruses, so Identity Bank has its own network that it runs in a secure environment separate from everything else. Essentially, I put these computers on a network inside a sandbox so we can see what’s going on without risking any further infection.”

  “No way!” Tyler exclaims as he stops in front of a machine. “Is this one running ’95?”

  I nod. “I feel like a jerk. Kendall tried to tell me their operation ran on a shoestring budget, but I didn’t believe her. The only modern equipment they’ve got is the computer they purchased to run the age progression software. It’s got decent specs — but the rest of the gear wouldn’t even run computer games designed for toddlers. I’m amazed they’re able to function.”

  “Colette’s funny about that kind of stuff. I’ve had more than one conversation with her about how she could do her job more efficiently if she had better equipment. However, she insists she doesn’t want the focus of her organization to be constantly on fundraising. She says she was raised to make do with what she had. If it’s good enough for her. It should be good enough for her company. She actually lives what she preaches. I don’t suppose you could arrange to make the older stuff inoperable so she can’t use it anymore,” Tyler suggests.

  I spin on my rolling chair and look at him in surprise. “Come again? That seems a little cruel.”