A strange bed. A strange room. Again.
Reggie stretched and glanced at her watch. Her four hour nap had done a world of good. In spite of feeling better physically, the reality of her situation overwhelmed her. She hadn’t felt this helpless in a long time.
However, hope glimmered in the forms of Dylan, Billy, and Theresa. She’d been lucky enough to meet three of the kindest people in the world. Two former Marines and a nurse. That counted for something—actually, a lot.
As crazy as it seemed, crashing into Dylan’s truck had kept her alive. Weird.
She put on the new clothes Theresa had picked out. Not bad. The jeans fit perfectly and even though she’d never choose a leopard print shirt, it didn’t look half bad.
After brushing her hair, Reggie tested her glucose level with a new meter Theresa had given her. She looked at the results and smiled. No problem.
She walked to the window, pulled back the heavy drapes and peered outside. Trees, trees, and more trees. How could Theresa be happy living in the middle of nowhere?
Reggie shrugged and went to find the others.
Dylan, Theresa and Billy were sitting in a semi-circle on the sofa holding hands with heads bowed when she walked into the living room. She came to an abrupt stop.
Dylan looked up. His blue eyes twinkled and his smiled welcomed her. “It’s OK, Reggie. We’re just praying and asking for God’s protection and guidance.”
She nodded as if she heard such words on a regular basis, which couldn’t be further from the truth. The group dropped hands and Billy stared at her for so long she wondered if she’d grown red horns while brandishing a three-pronged pitchfork.
He motioned her to take a seat.
“I found out a few things, but let’s take it one step at a time. Are you sure you don’t know any other information about your father?”
That wasn’t what she expected. She shook her head. Why did he want to know about her father?
“Have you ever heard of Stanley Software?” Dylan asked.
“Of course, everyone has.” Stanley Software was the king of computer software.
“The owner’s name is Stanley Federer.” Billy said.
She let the words sink in for a moment and then rejected the implication. “Surely, you don’t think it’s the same man listed on my birth certificate?”
“I’m thinking it is. Stanley Software’s headquarters is right outside of Philadelphia.”
“Yeah, but—” What a ridiculous idea. Her father the founder of Stanley Software. No way.
“Billy Clyde accessed their human resource files and found out that a Jeannie Meyers worked there as a receptionist twenty-five years ago.” Dylan looked at her.
“You think the owner of Stanley Software is my biological father?”
“All the information seems to say yes. I know it’s hard to believe.” Billy nodded. “As far as I could find out, Pennsylvania has no college scholarship program like you described but Stanley Software instituted one for needy students in foster care. It started seven years ago—just the time you graduated from high school.”
“So you’re telling me my biological father is the billionaire, Stanley Federer?”
He lifted a group of papers and showed them to her. “Your name is listed as one of the recipients for the first year of the program.” He took a deep breath. “Here’s another thing. Millennium Marketing, the company watching your credit cards, is a subsidiary of Stanley Software.”
****
Dylan watched Reggie as she processed Billy Clyde’s information. The struggle showed on her face.
“You think my father is trying to kill me?” Her voice trembled when she spoke.
He fought the urge to hug her. If he could make all her pain go away, he would.
“It’s a possibility, but I don’t really think so.” Billy Clyde paced around the room before turning back to Reggie. “Why would he arrange a scholarship for you and then hire a hit man seven years later? Doesn’t make sense.”
“You’re right. That doesn’t make sense.” Her voice was hopeful, like a six-year-old who didn’t want her parents to be angry.
Dylan felt the urge to protect her. Even though Reggie claimed she wanted nothing to do with her biological father, he couldn’t imagine how shocking it would be to think one’s own father was trying to kill one.
“So, what do you think is going on, hon?” Theresa asked.
“Let’s look at this logically. Why are most murders committed?” Billy wandered over to the candy dish and grabbed a handful of chocolate covered candies. He popped several in his mouth, in spite of Theresa’s disapproving scowl.
“Well according to the mysteries I read, love or money,” Theresa answered. “Move away from the candy dish, hon.”
Billy looked down at his hand. His face registered surprise. He sat down on the sofa and popped the last of the candy in his mouth.
“Or revenge.” Dylan chimed in. He looked over at Reggie. Her foot tapped a nervous beat against the couch.
“That’s the way I see it. Love, money, or revenge. Which one of those do you think you fits, Reggie?” Billy asked.
Dylan walked over and grabbed his own handful of candy, then sat on the armrest of Reggie’s chair. He rested his hand on her shoulder. “The man is worth billions. It’s probably all of the above.”
“Good point.” Theresa said. “All this cloak and dagger intrigue has made me hungry. Let’s grill some steaks and we can chew on the information along with our dinner.”
“That’s the best advice I’ve heard all day.” He bowed to Theresa. “Oh, wise wife. I’ve got my computer doing a search on Mr. Federer as we speak. It should be done by the time we finish eating.”
“Good.” Theresa glared first at Billy, then at Dylan. She stood and walked towards the kitchen. “Reggie you and I will start dinner while James Bond and Q wash up and put away their spy toys.”
Theresa squealed as Billy Clyde chased her into the kitchen. They were true partners in every sense of the word.
Something Dylan wanted more than anything. Someone to share his life with.
He wanted it. And he wanted Reggie.
You’re a fool Monroe. What would a lawyer see in a farmer? You’re dreamin, man. But, oh, what a dream!