Destiny Unknown Read online

  Chapter Twelve

  Cody clung to Bernadette long after the last tremor shook his body. The driving need had eased, but not the longing. Emotions long forgotten thrummed through his veins. As a child, he'd wanted to be loved. Unconditionally and without censure.

  There were times when it came, infrequent times he would never forget. In those moments he'd soared, had thought nothing could be better. Now he knew he'd been wrong.

  Loving Bernadette produced a euphoria beyond the emotions of a child, and far beyond the emotions of a young man. Looking back, he understood the mistake he'd made in marrying Bev. He'd been looking for his sister. Guilt, rather than love, had ruled his feelings when he was twenty-two. He'd thought he could learn to love Bev, thought he could help. He'd been wrong about that, too.

  I love you. Simple words for something so complex. Words that would petrify Bernadette if he spoke them aloud, so he remained silent.

  He certainly hadn't planned on falling in love with her. It had happened too quickly, otherwise, he might have seen it coming and taken shelter. In a fairy tale, all would end well now. The spell would be broken, the ugliness that had scarred the princess would magically disappear. She would love him as he loved her, and the book would be closed.

  The only thing closed were Bernadette's eyes, and Cody waited, aware of every breath she took. Waited for her to rationalize away what they'd just shared. Waited for her fears of abandonment to resurface and take control.

  The qualities he loved in her would be their destruction. She was self-sufficient and emotionally strong. Quick witted and smart enough to know when to remain silent. Her silence held him dangling, unable to counter her fears even as they were tearing them apart. She was his princess, beautiful, regal and wise, but she was also a woman, vulnerable and insecure. As she stirred in his arms, he knew the fears were winning out.

  Golden lashes fluttered, opening to reveal pools of cerium blue. In silence, she scanned his face, a look of pleasure slowly fading to dismay. Her body tensed, but not with the ecstasy they'd known just a short while ago, and he knew the next climax they shared would hurt rather than satisfy. She tried to pull back, and he resisted, afraid to let go.

  "I've got to go," she said softly, no longer looking him in the eyes.

  "Stay."

  "I can't."

  "We need to talk." To say with words what their bodies spoke so beautifully. If only he could find the words.

  "Oh, Cody." She sighed, nuzzling him for a moment, the resistance gone. Then she again tensed, drawing back, her nose wrinkling in distaste. "Did you just—"

  He smelled it too, the odor disgustingly sickening. Releasing his hold on Bernadette, he groaned and looked at his dog. "Thor?"

  From his prone position on the floor, Thor lifted his head slightly and thumped his tail.

  "Outside," Cody ordered and rose to his feet, pointing toward the door.

  Bernadette watched Cody let his dog out. Strewn around her was their clothing. It didn't seem to bother Cody that he was stark naked. He walked across the room as if wearing the finest of clothing, and she had to admit, he had a body to be proud of. He was the warrior, lean and muscular. The stallion, his flowing mane and bold carriage proclaiming his dominance.

  He was also a man, and when he came back toward her, his gaze on her body, she knew his testosterone was kicking in again. Quickly, she grabbed for her underpants. "I really have to go now."

  Cody shook his head. "Now you know why I don't sleep with Thor. No matter what I feed him, and I've tried every brand of dog food available, including some Jim has recommended, that dog comes out with those odorous reminders of his gastro-intestine functions."

  Fancy words for what she'd smelled, but she knew what Cody was doing. A discussion about Thor's farts would distract her, make her forget she had to leave. A pause on her part would be all he needed. She reached for her slacks.

  "So what do you think? Is it Ben or is it Loren trying to make you look bad?" Cody asked.

  Bernadette paused and watched him near.

  * * *

  Is it Ben or is it Loren trying to make you look bad? The question played through her head, and Bernadette stared at the doodles on her paper. If she knew the answer to that question, life would be easier.

  Who was she kidding? Bernadette let her pen drop back onto her desk and stared at her closed office door. Life would not be easier until she made some decisions about Cody.

  "Give us some time," he'd said before finally walking her to her car early Sunday morning. "Forget what you should or shouldn't do or that I might leave. Forget trying to control your emotions."

  Bernadette grinned. She certainly hadn't controlled her emotions that night. In fact, if she'd exercised a little control, she wouldn't have gone to Cody's in the first place, wouldn't have stayed until they were alone, and certainly wouldn't have made love with him half the night with absolutely no protection.

  Oh, she'd forgotten control all right. Now she wasn't sure what to do. Keep avoiding him, as she had been the last four days, or face him and try to explain, once again, why sex wasn't enough and it was for his sake that she didn't want to see him?

  The messages he kept leaving on her answering machine and phone mail proved he didn't see things as she did. Why he thought she liked dogs, she wasn't sure. She'd told him she didn't. And calling their arguments discussions and saying she was perfect for him was a laugh. He simply wasn't paying attention, or he would surely see her faults. Even their philosophies of life differed. What he had long ago turned his back on, she wanted.

  "You're thinking in black and white," he'd argued Saturday night. "Sometimes it's not that clear. Sometimes things aren't what you think."

  He was right about things not being clear. Everything was murky, in her life and in her job. Another three weeks, and Parker would be back. Before he returned, she needed direction. When starting a business you needed a plan. Well this was a business—monkey business—and she needed a plan to stop it. Picking up the phone, she rang Anne's extension. "Have someone from security come up to my office right away," she said, a new determination to her tone. "Carl, if possible."

  * * *

  Cody stood at the edge of Anne's desk. She looked up as she hung up the phone and smiled. "Must be she heard me arguing with you. She's asked me to call security. I told you she doesn't want to see you."

  "Well, if I'm going to be thrown out, I might as well be thrown out of her office as standing out here." He started for Bernadette's door.

  "But she doesn't want to see you," Anne called after him, standing.

  He grinned and turned the knob. "So you've said. You'd better call security."

  He stepped into Bernadette's office, not quite sure what to expect. Her surprised expression took him off guard. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her pen poised over a sheet of paper.

  "Trying to see you." He closed the door behind him. "As long as you've called security on me, I'm going to grab what time I can."

  "I didn't call security on you. I—" She allowed just a touch of a grin. "Had I known you were out there, I might have called security on you, but this is for something else." She waved the pen at him. "I know you said to sit tight and wait, but I've decided I have to take action. Starting today, I'm beefing up security. We're going to catch these damned shoplifters, even if I have to patrol the floors myself. And I'm closing that account at True Fidelity. Maybe I didn't open it, but the longer it stays open, the more culpable I become. And after that, I'm going into Ben's computer, and I'm going to find that signature of mine."

  "And then what?" Cody asked. "Accuse Ben? What if Bill was right and Loren's using Ben's computer. How are you going to know or prove it, one way or the other?"

  "I'll—" She hesitated. "Isn't there something in the computer that shows who was using it when a document was created?"

  "Only if the computer's set up to identify each user." Bernadette's nemesis might have foolishly left the file under his name. He m
ight have also left another identifying mark. "Do you still have those letters you brought to my place Saturday?"

  "Yes." She rose and went to a file cabinet. From the top drawer, she pulled a manila envelope. "Actually, there are three things with my scanned signature in here now. Frank did give me the signature card, after making a copy for his files."

  "Good. Now we just have to get Ben and Loren's fingerprints."

  "Fingerprints?"

  Cody nodded, stepping closer. "And yours, of course. I have a friend who plays around with identifying fingerprints."

  "You have friends who do a lot of unusual things."

  "Pays to have friends. This one, I think, may be connected with the F.B.I., though he's never said that, and I'm not asking. If you saw him, you'd think he was a bum."

  "I thought that the first time I saw you." She glanced at his jeans. "You've dressed up today. Brown jeans. No holes in the knees. Brown sweatshirt. Even brown boots. My my. A matching ensemble."

  "See, you're learnin' me." He brushed a finger over her cheek. "You've also been avoiding me."

  "I've been, ah—" She looked down."

  "Avoiding me," he repeated. They both knew the truth.

  When her gaze again met his, she straightened her shoulders. "It's really for the best."

  He would never understand women. His mother had said the same thing before marrying his stepfather. Cody didn't find that arrangement for the best, certainly not for him. His sister had claimed it would be better if she were dead. He didn't agree with her, either. Even Bev had used that excuse. On one of her sober days, she'd said a divorce would be for the best for both of them. She was the closest to right.

  "How can my not seeing you be for the best?" he asked Bernadette. "I don't know about you, but I'm at my best when I'm with you, when I know I'm going to see you. When I'm making love with you."

  Once again, she looked away.

  "I know we're different." He brushed his hand down the sleeve of her cocoa colored jacket, her gaze following its path. Their choices of colors were the same today, yet there was a vast difference. "You like designer clothes, control and organization. Actually, I'm fairly organized, believe it or not. And maybe I do need to dress up a little. I suppose I could do that. I'll buy my clothes at Morgan's. Be a walking advertisement."

  "You don't understand." She shook her head, a plea for understanding in her eyes.

  "No, I don't. I don't understand why you won't give us a chance."

  "Oh, Cody." Pain filled her eyes.

  "I love you." The words came out, softly and with feeling. "I can't promise a 'happy ever after' ending, but I sure can try. I'm steadfast and loyal. I like a lot of the things you like. I even have a couple of dollars in the bank."

  She closed her eyes, and he knew he hadn't vanquished her fears. She wouldn't let herself believe him. If only she'd stop trying to control her emotions, would simply give in.

  A knock on her door sent a jerk of surprise through Bernadette, and she looked at him first, then at the door. "Yes?" she asked, a slight tremor to the word.

  Cody remembered the security guard the same time Carl identified himself. Time had run out, and Cody stepped back. "I'll be going." He took the envelope from her hand. "I'll let you know what my friend finds."

  Bernadette looked at her hands. "You wanted my fingerprints."

  "Actually, I should have them on this envelope. Why don't you hold off on checking that computer until I call."

  "Ms. Sanders?" Carl called through the door. "You asked me to come up. Do you need help?"

  She nodded yes, but called out no. "Just give me a minute, Carl." Her gaze on Cody, she lowered her voice. "I know you think you love me, but—"

  He didn't let her go on. "It's not a matter of 'I think' I love you. I know I love you."

  That said, Cody left, letting Carl in as he did.

  * * *

  Cody called the next night. His excuse was a question about the papers with her copied signatures. He wanted to know who'd handled the papers. She remembered the one from the modeling agency had been passed around at his gathering. Everyone had touched it. She'd also had the ad copy from the Press with her that day, but it had only been touched by Katrina and Tom. That was, if you didn't include those at the newspaper office who might have touched it. The bank's signature card would be the one with the fewest prints, she imagined. Even then, she didn't see how fingerprints could be lifted from a piece of paper, not with any accuracy.

  On the other hand, if it could be done and Ben's fingerprints were on all three documents, she would know he was the culprit. But if Loren's prints were the common denominator, it would prove Ben innocent, no matter what she might find on his computer.

  How Cody got Ben's and Loren's fingerprints became clear when Ben asked how well she knew Cody and if she'd found him a bit strange. "He's not exactly your typical businessman," she'd told him, laughing.

  Ben shook his head. "He asked me to take a look at a picture of a dog he'd lost—insisted I take the picture and look. Now you tell me why I would have seen his dog. He even asked Loren."

  "He loves that dog." She knew that for certain. She'd also bet the two men saw different pictures of Thor, and exactly where they'd touched would be identified for Cody's unconventional friend who dressed like a bum.

  By Friday, things were beginning began to look up. At exactly four thirty-five, Carl and one of the other security guards, who worked during the day, stopped two women leaving the store. On them, they found two blouses, a scarf, and a bottle of expensive perfume. What they didn't find were any sales receipts. Ten minutes later, their male companion was identified by two of the older sales clerks and the police took all three away in handcuffs.

  Bernadette was scheduled to work that weekend, which was fine with her. Both Loren and Ben would be off, giving her a chance to check out Ben's computer without arousing any great suspicion. If anyone asked, she had her excuse ready. She wanted to use Ben's scanner. It sounded good, except she forgot she needed to know Ben's password to get into his computer. She looked around his office, hoping she might find the password written down somewhere, so he wouldn't forget it. After she'd tried every word scribbled on his calendar, she gave up. Even the hot shot from shipping and receiving, who assured her he was a computer whiz, couldn't figure out how to get into Ben's computer.

  If her signature was in a file, waiting to be dropped into another letter, it wasn't bothered by her efforts. Cody's idea of checking fingerprints was looking better all the time.

  He'd said they might have an answer in twenty-four hours, but every time Cody called, he said his friend hadn't gotten back to him. After four nights of calls, she found herself looking forward to talking with Cody. Once he'd reported on the status of the fingerprints, they talked about everything and nothing.

  Mopsy soon learned the phone ringing after nine meant Bernadette would sit. It was an opportunity for the dog to get up on Bernadette's lap. For the entire conversation, Mopsy would lie there, content to have Bernadette scratch her behind her ears. Cody said Thor was as bad, lying beside him, begging to have his belly rubbed.

  Bernadette knew what Cody was up to with his extended calls. Sometimes he was so transparent, he was amazing. She also knew she should cut him off, that letting him think he was getting away with his game wasn't fair to him. He'd said he loved her, and though she knew those feelings would only last a while, it didn't seem right to lead him on. Yet, whenever she did try to end the conversation, he managed to ask a question that led to another . . . and then another. The last time she'd talked to a male as many hours as she'd now talked to Cody was when she was going with Parker. But that had been different, then she'd believed in love and forever after.

  She had Monday off, but she went into her office around four o'clock. Loren was talking to Anne and both looked surprised to see her. "What are you doing here?" Anne asked the moment Bernadette came into the area.

  "I've got a couple things to finish up." Sh
e looked at Loren. "How are the changes to the web site coming along?"

  "Good." He leaned back, resting a hand on Anne's desk, and primped a little. "Should be ready by the time Parker gets back. You'll have to come down and take a look at what I have so far."

  It was a perfect opening for her. "I'm curious how you got Morgan's logo into the computer."

  "That was easy. We just scanned the one we use for our ads."

  "We?" She wanted to hear him say Ben's name.

  Loren didn't disappoint her. "Ben helped. I understand you were trying to use the scanner this weekend."

  "I had something I wanted to copy into a file, but I couldn't get into the computer. You and Ben need to give me your passwords. What if something happened to the two of you?"

  "We already thought of that." He glanced Anne's way. "Anne has them." Grinning, he pushed off from Anne's desk. "Time to get back to my cellblock. See you girls tomorrow."

  Bernadette watched him stroll off, a wiggle to his walk. She'd noticed that he hadn't offered the codes to her. "I'll give you a copy tomorrow," Anne said.

  "Thanks." Bernadette returned to her office, a sense of uneasiness hanging over her. Even after eight months, she felt like the outsider. She could understand Ben's resentment, but she had hoped to win Loren over by now. One of them disliked her enough to want her to fail, was doing his best to insure it.

  On her desk was a report from STOPIT regarding the problems they'd been having with the EAS system. STOPIT was insisting there were no problems with the electronic article surveillance systems they'd installed in either of the Morgan's stores, that the problems were within the stores themselves. Something was interfering with the radio frequency. Why it was occurring sporadically, they couldn't explain. Actually, the report explained little, simply denied guilt.

  "Everybody's innocent," Bernadette said and rested her chin on cupped hands, staring at the door in front of her. Every time she went through the list of problems Morgan's had been experiencing, one person came up looking guilty. Problem was, it was her.