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“Are you okay?” April asked.
Phoebe shrugged. “I’m happy about avoiding prison. I don’t have the background to be successful there. As for the rest of it, I’m still pretty numb.”
April sighed. “I’m sorry,” she said, sounding both miserable and relieved. “For everything. You really saved me.”
Phoebe didn’t want to go there. If she thought too much about what had happened, she would get angry and say things that would damage an important relationship.
“What about my job?” she asked instead. “Did I save that, too?”
April pressed her lips together and avoided her gaze.
“Great,” Phoebe said and pushed past her, heading for the exit. “Let me guess. I’ve been fired.”
“Suspended.”
April followed her into the hallway. People milled around them, all going about their legal business. Phoebe hoped the innocent ones would have better luck than she did. She stopped by a battered bulletin board and looked at her boss.
“For how long?” she asked.
“A month.” April touched her arm. “Look, I’m going to make this up to you, I swear. I’ll pay your salary out of my own pocket.”
Phoebe sucked in a breath. “I was suspended without pay?”
April nodded.
Perfect. Just perfect. Phoebe stepped back and squared her shoulders. “I guess I’ll see you in a month,” she said before heading for the door.
April hurried after her. “Phoebe, wait. I know you’re furious with me. You have every right to be angry.”
Phoebe stopped. “Actually, the person I’m angry with is myself.”
Tears filled April’s eyes. “If you hadn’t helped me, I don’t know what would have happened.”
“I know. I’m glad you’re okay.” She made a show of glancing at her watch. “Look, I have to go.”
“Okay, but call me in a couple of days, okay? You can yell at me for as long as you want. I deserve it.”
Phoebe nodded, then walked toward the elevator for the underground parking. She tried to tell herself that in the larger picture, she’d done a good deed. Cosmically, she’d just improved her chances of fame and glory in her next life by helping out someone in need. If there was a next life. If there wasn’t, she’d just been suspended—without pay—from a job she loved, for something that shouldn’t have been her fault, but was.
So far it wasn’t the best Monday she’d ever had.
“Phoebe?”
The voice came from behind her, but she recognized it. Recognized it and knew her Monday was about to get worse. She sucked in a breath and turned to find Jeff Edwards standing in the grubby hallway. The same Jeff she’d once loved, promised to marry and had almost moved in with...right up until she’d caught him in bed with an eighteen-year-old intern she was training as part of a jobs program for kids aging out of foster care.
Tall, good-looking, successful Jeff Edwards who had dared to demand all his DVDs back after she’d ended the relationship. Jeff Edwards of the California Bureau of Real Estate.
“You really screwed up,” he said, holding out an official-looking envelope. “The board is considering revoking your license.”
She blinked at him, unable to believe this was really happening. It was like being involved in a car accident, when everything moved in slow motion. While there was no time to stop the course of events that would change her life forever, there was also no way to avoid the crash.
In a perfect world, she would be able to think of some witty, biting comment to put him in his place. But as her world was spinning in much the same direction as her day, she plucked the envelope from his hands without saying a word. In her first stroke of luck that morning, the elevator doors chose that moment to open, and she stepped inside with as much silent dignity as she could muster. Her only minor victory was the look of shock on Jeff’s face as the door gently closed, leaving him standing alone and talking to himself.
* * *
CHASE TYPED RAPIDLY on his keyboard, his fingers moving in time with the pounding beat of the song playing in his earbuds. On his screen, a small frame in the corner displayed a montage of images flickering on and off, also in perfect synchronization with the music. He ignored them for the most part—except for the Sports Illustrated swimsuit pictures he’d downloaded the previous week. Those very fine ladies got his full attention. When his program started flashing pictures of rock bands, cars and twisted space aliens, he moved his gaze back to the chat box in the center of his screen, and the message waiting there.
Robotic cat failed to attack mice, although it did fall on one.
Chase read the sentence twice, swore, then pulled out a worn notebook and began flipping through the pages.
Did it show any interest at all? he typed. Can you confirm sensors are working?
Because in the last test, the sensors had been working fine. At least they’d been registering. But did the robot understand what it was seeing? That was where he and Peter stumbled. Maybe a robot cat was too ambitious, he thought for the thousandth time. Maybe they should have started with the mouse instead. Maybe—
The pounding in his earbuds suddenly went silent. Chase glanced up and saw Zane standing next to his desk, the jack connecting the earbuds to the computer dangling from his hands.
Instantly he hit three keys in rapid succession, activating the macro that sent a message to Peter telling him, due to adult interference, communication would have to cease for now. All his friends had similar emergency escape messages. Some of them were pretty funny. But looking at Zane’s angry face and the fury blazing in his eyes didn’t make Chase feel much like laughing.
He tried to remember if he’d messed up recently. He’d accidentally broken a couple of plates while cleaning the kitchen last night, but Zane had already yelled at him for that. Plus the level of anger radiating from him wasn’t about two broken plates. Which meant Chase had messed up somewhere else. Somewhere big. But it wasn’t noon. Except for breakfast, he hadn’t even left his room.
Unless Zane had found out about...
Zane didn’t say anything. Instead he moved closer to the desk, then leaned over and typed in an internet address. By the time he punched in the fourth letter, Chase knew he was totally and completely screwed.
He watched the site load in a matter of seconds. A panoramic picture of the town of Fool’s Gold nestled into the Sierra Nevada filled the screen. Text scrolled at the bottom. Come to the Northern California wilderness and experience a vacation like no other.
The picture faded, replaced by one of people riding on horseback. It was a great photo, he thought, remembering how he’d copied it from another site.
“Start talking,” Zane growled as he straightened and fixed Chase with his sternest expression.
When Chase had been little, he’d called it the death-ray look. It used to terrify him. But he’d been a kid then and still unclear on how things worked. Back then Zane had been his big brother and the best part of his world. He’d been too young to know that while he would always think of Zane as his brother, his family, Zane would only think of him as a constant screwup who always got in the way.
“Well?”
Chase unwound himself from his chair and crossed to the bed. While the death-ray look no longer sent him running, he liked a little distance between himself and Zane.
“It’s no big deal,” Chase bluffed. “Peter Moreno and I designed a website for our computer science class. Mr. Hendrix gave us an A. He said someday we’re gonna be better at computers than he is.”
Zane pulled out the chair Chase had vacated and sank into it. After rubbing his eyes, he slowly shook his head.
“Yeah. You got an A in computer science and physics and math and every other subject that interests you. We’ll ignore the C in English and the D in history.”
Chase threw himself back on the bed. Jeez, were they going to go through all that again? No one at MIT was going to care if he didn’t do well in history. It wasn’t that kind of college. Of course if Zane had his way, Chase would never get to MIT. Instead he’d spend his life shoveling cow shit and feeding goats.
“I got a phone call about a half hour ago,” Zane said.
His carefully controlled voice made Chase sit up slowly. Even scarier than the death-ray look was the quiet voice. It meant that Zane was doing the best he could to hold on to his temper before it exploded and took out everyone from here to Sacramento.
“A woman wanted to know if she could get a massage before going on her cattle drive.”
“Oh. That.”
“Yes, that. Why don’t you tell me about it?”
Chase swallowed as he remembered what he and Peter had done. It had been a joke that had gotten out of hand. He glanced at Zane and saw a muscle twitch in his jaw. Not exactly a good sign.
“Don’t panic,” he said quickly. “I’ve got everything under control.”
“Tell me the plan, Chase.”
Zane looked like a man holding on to his temper with both hands. Chase wasn’t sure how long his brother’s grip would last. He started talking as fast as he could.
“Like I said, it was our school project. We had to design a website, then put it on the internet.”
“Through the school,” Zane said, his teeth clenched. “But you put yours on a host so anyone could access it.”
“Um, that was an accident. Reese Hendrix did it as a joke.”
Zane’s hands curled into fists. “A joke? You advertised a cattle drive. You took reservations. You accepted money.”
“Just for a little while,” Chase protested. “Look, I know what I’m doing.”
His brother stood and crossed to the window. “So people are arriving on Saturday expecting a six-day cattle drive? Was that the plan?”
“No. Don’t worry, I’ve got that taken care of. It was a mistake. When the money started arriving, Peter and I didn’t know what to do.” Okay, later he’d figured out that sending it back with a letter explaining the mix-up would have been really smart, but it hadn’t occurred to him at the time.
“Peter and I are working on our robot, and we needed parts. Peter put in his share, but you wouldn’t loan me any money or pay for anything.”
“You used strangers’ money for your project?” Zane bellowed, turning back to face him. “That’s stealing. The whole website is fraud, and I’m sure we can throw in theft for good measure.”
Chase sprang to his feet. “I didn’t steal. I’d never steal or do those other things.”
“Then where’s the money?”
“Right here.” Chase moved to his computer and started typing quickly. “Peter and I did some day-trading. We figured we’d just borrow their money for a while. After we made a bundle off the deposits, we’d return them and keep the profits. Which was a great idea until the fourth day when we lost nearly everything.”
Zane made a sound low in this throat. Chase kept typing, logging on to his brokerage account.
“I know what you’re thinking. That we were screwed, right? But then we overheard this tourist at the Fourth of July Festival in Fool’s Gold talking about a tech company that was going to announce a new kind of motherboard, and their stock would go through the roof. So we bought as much as we could with what we had left. The announcement is going to be at five today. We’ll sell the stock and send back the deposits. I figured we’d tell everyone the ranch burned down or something so they won’t show up.”
He risked a glance at his brother. “So I’ve got it covered. I’ve even written up the letter telling everyone not to come and that we’ll be sending their deposits back overnight mail. Pretty good, huh?”
Zane’s expression remained unreadable. “You stole their money, lost it day-trading, plan to get it back through insider trading and you’re canceling their vacation with less than a week’s notice. You think that’s pretty good?”
His voice rose with each word. Chase had the feeling he was trying to control himself, only he wasn’t doing a really great job.
“These people are expecting a vacation. They’ve taken time off work, bought tickets. You want me to give you an idea of how much they could sue you for?”
“Not really,” he muttered.
At that moment his brokerage account popped up. He scrolled down to the value and nearly passed out when he saw it was less than two dollars.
“No!” he yelled. He frantically clicked on the stock trading code of the company to check on recent news articles. A big headline flashed onto his computer screen.
Company President Arrested for Stealing Proprietary Information from Rivals.
He felt more than heard his brother approach. Zane touched the screen. “There seems to be a problem with your plan.”
Chase didn’t know what to say. This was bad. Really bad. Probably the worst thing he’d ever done. He felt nauseous. He couldn’t think. People were going to be arriving for a cattle drive. He didn’t have the money to pay them back, and if Zane didn’t bail him out, he was probably going to be arrested. Or worse.
“I really blew it,” he said more to himself than his brother.
“Looks that way.”
Heat flared on Chase’s cheeks. He stared at the floor, studying the scarred wood beneath his feet and the scuffs on his worn cowboy boots.
“Sorry.”
“Sorry?” Zane swore loudly. “You’ve pulled some pretty boneheaded stunts in the past, but you’ve never gone this far before. I expected better.” He clenched his hands, as if trying to keep from punching something...or someone. “I always expect better of you. After all this time, you’d think I’d learn.”
No punishment, not even a good beating, could ever hurt worse than those words. They made Chase feel small and afraid. His throat tightened, as did his chest. For the first time in years, he thought he might actually cry.
“Now what?” Chase asked.
Zane walked to the door. “Good question. You have a backup plan?”
Chase shook his head. “I g-guess—” His voice cracked, and he had to clear his throat before continuing. “I guess I need to borrow the money so I can pay those people back.”
Zane didn’t say anything for a long time. When he finally spoke, Chase knew it was going to be bad.
“A loan would be too simple,” Zane said. “I’m going to call Raoul and Pia to tell them what you and Peter did. Then I’m going to try to figure out what to do with you. This isn’t going to be an easy punishment. I’m going to teach you a lesson you’ll never forget.”
He walked out of the room without saying another word. Chase watched him go. For the first time in his life, he wondered if Zane was going to send him away. Chase tried to tell himself it wouldn’t be so bad. He hated the ranch. He wanted to go away, to study computers and lasers and all kinds of cool stuff. Not cattle breeding.
But leaving on his own terms and being kicked out by his only living blood relative were two very different things. He sank back on the bed, feeling alone and scared and a whole lot younger than seventeen.
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_c71e8da8-0682-5ae8-889d-e5e8f5c802f7)
TWO HOURS AFTER her court hearing, Phoebe had cleared out her desk, left her pending files on April’s desk, purchased a large quantity of chocolate and candy from the See’s store and driven to the tall Century City high-rise where her best friend, Maya Farlow, was a producer for a TV entertainment news program.
She smiled at the assistant Maya shared with two other producers, sitting at a desk in the wide hallway. Phoebe tapped lightly on the paneled door, then stepped into a tiny office with a floor-to-ceiling window.
Maya was on the phone, but she motioned for Phoebe to take a seat in front of her desk. Instead Phoebe crossed to the window first and stared out at the north-facing view. To the west lay the Pacific Ocean, to the east, the barely visible high-rises of downtown Los Angeles. And somewhere north was the San Fernando Valley—a suburban mecca everyone loved to mock but that Phoebe actually enjoyed visiting from time to time. The June gloom had burned off, leaving behind brilliant blue skies only possible in Southern California. New York might be the frenetic city that never slept, but LA was cutting-edge cool with a dash of sass.
“Zane,” Maya said, her voice tight, “he’s young. He did something stupid, but—”
Zane. Which meant Maya was talking to her stepbrother. From what Phoebe could tell, the two had never had an easy relationship.
