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  Her brown eyes blazed as they bore into him, and it appeared as if she was on the verge of crying. “You don’t give a rat’s ass about me, what I have to put up with! Your mother constantly reminding me how I’m not a REAL Mortenson, how I don’t belong! Do you know how many times she’s said the only reason you married me was because of Regan? I promise you, I SWEAR to you, if you get on that plane today, I’ll take my baby and leave this place, and you’ll never see either one of us again!” she shouted, and finally burst into tears.

  He had heard enough. Stalking up to her angrily, he grabbed her shoulders, shook her a little, and glared daggers at her. Gritting his teeth, he said, “Listen to me, woman, and you listen very closely! I’ve let you have your way with this childish act of yours, but if you try to take my son, I promise you it will be the worst mistake you’ve ever made in your life, you understand me? Don’t think my love for you will allow you to do whatever the hell you want, any time you want! You‘ll never take him, you hear? Not in the menta….not in the state of mind you‘re in! “Pushing her away, he snarled, “You want to leave? FINE, go on then! But you leave BY YOURSELF! Don’t fuck with me, I’m warning you! Or Regan! I’ve tried and tried, but you’re hopeless. JUST GO! “He finished, feeling his heart sink to the floor.

  She stood there in shock, almost as if frozen in time, looking defeated. Something in the way she looked at him, something so…final, warned him that she was serious about leaving, and that perhaps he should stay and try to work things out, but, still angered by her threats, the inner advice went unheeded.

  As he turned and walked away he barely heard her say, “Fine, I’ll leave for a while. But when I return we should see a lawyer, not another doctor.”

  His stride faltered for a fraction of a second and panic gripped his heart, but foolish pride won out in the end. The sound of her sobbing forlornly as he closed the door behind him spooked him in ways he had never felt before in his life.

  After composing himself somewhat, he summoned his right hand man, Malcolm Grant, a short time later.

  Looking steadily at the young man, who looked more like a linebacker for the Green bay Packers instead of a very efficient aide he had come to rely heavily on, he was silent for a moment. The African American man stood there patiently, his dark eyes seeming to be scanning and searching for problems. He had been a former Special Forces officer, but had left the military after losing his wife overseas. He was not only a top-notch aide, but provided any security he might need.

  “Uhmm, everything Ok, Chief?"the young man finally asked.

  “Oh, right, I was wool gathering, sorry. Listen, I want you to stay behind here, and assign someone else you trust to go to Egypt with me.” he said as he turned and looked out the window at his family’s vast estate, and finally leaning against his large body against an antique desk that once had belonged to his father. “I want you to stay here and keep an eye on my wife and son. Under no circumstances is she to take Regan and leave the premises, unless you’re with them. Or with one of your people you trust, if you’re indisposed. There will be no exceptions, you make sure Regan is watched around the clock.”

  “Understood, sir. Do you want Mrs. Mortenson‘s comings and goings, by herself, restricted or monitored as well?” he asked, his face an unreadable mask.

  Opening his briefcase, he shook his head, his voice thick and unsteady. “No, she may come and go as she pleases. Only when she is with Regan will you or someone else accompany her. That’s all.” he said, gathering his work he needed for the trip…

  Snapping out of his melancholy thoughts, Granger knew he had to end the present madness at hand, but on his terms, no one else’s. His mother had been hounding him nonstop to move on, and divorce Cassandra on the grounds of abandonment. She also wanted him to marry Martina, something he refused to even consider.

  Martina wasn’t going to get her hooks into him, no way, no how. Out of hurt and loneliness, he had foolishly had a brief sexual relationship with her after Cassandra had walked out on him, but it was never anything more than physical for him, a point he had thought he made abundantly clear from the beginning. In spite of that, after a short period of time she began talking about marriage anyway, and he ended it quickly from there. But it wasn’t as simple as that, deep down, it just didn’t feel right, especially remembering all the times Cassandra had accused him of sleeping with her.

  But even that hadn’t stopped his mother from scheming. He had been livid when he found out she had actually been planning a wedding behind his back, a wedding with Martina. He had put a stop to that as well, and told his mother if she tried again, he would take Regan and leave.

  His son was growing, and needed a mother figure, and he knew it was time to start thinking about marriage again, but things would be different this time around. This time, he would find a woman simply to help him raise his son, and in trade he would give her a lavish life most women could only dream about. He would stay with her until Regan was an adult, and then pay her to leave. The perfect business arrangement. He could never give his heart to another woman, ever again. He had been foolish with Cassandra, he had given her his heart, but she had ripped it out and stomped on it when she left them without a word, never looking back. The bitterness surfaced like it always did when he thought about her, his father had always warned him, when he was alive, to never let his heart rule his head.

  It’s time to end all this useless hoping and deal with the matter using my head, not my heart... he thought as he pulled his cell phone out and dialed Malcolm’s number.

  The young man answered on the second ring.

  “Hi, Malcolm. The private investigator I asked you to contact, have him begin the search for Cassandra. I want this done discreetly, and have him report directly to me, so give him all the contact information.”

  “Sure thing chief, right away.” the man answered, then hung up.

  “Please tell me you aren’t planning to try to find that woman; your lawyers already said you can divorce her without her being present!”

  With an audible sigh, he turned to see his mother, Grace, giving him a look of prim disapproval.

  “She left you, she left my grandson. Humph! I’m surprised she didn’t take your great grandmother’s wedding rings and pawn them, or whatever they do with stolen property, instead of leaving them here so you could give them to your next wife. Leave that no good tramp where she is! She’s probably shacking up with some drug dealer, or someone of that ilk!” she said, hoping her words would make him see that it was better not to dig too deeply into Cassandra’s disappearance. She couldn’t afford that…

  Silently, he took in the sight of his mother. She was the very image of class and refinement. Her dark hair was done up, not a hair out of place, the evening dress fit her perfectly, no doubt one she had purchased on one of her buying trips to Paris. She had always been the social butterfly, and she had always felt Cassandra had somehow been blight of her social standing. “Allow me to run my own personal matters, mother.” he finally said with firm authority, in a tone that brooked no argument, and no compromise. “How I plan to handle my wife is my concern.” Why couldn’t I do this when Cassandra asked…no…BEGGED me to? To put my foot down? He thought, the guilt making him feel squeamish.

  Narrowing her cold blue eyes, she said haughtily, “Well, you’ve done a rather inept job at that thus far, haven’t you? Your son, he needs a mother. And it would help if you stopped telling him about that…. woman, and allowing him to have pictures of her. He would forget her if you would only allow him to. I want you to divorce her and find a suitable wife to be a mother to my grandson, someone that I can proudly say is a Mortenson!”

  Standing to his full height of six foot four, he spoke in a deceptively calm voice. “Don’t push me, mother. I control this family, and I control every dime that is attached to the family name! I won’t allow you to push anything on me that I don’t want. Maybe if I had put my foot down earlier, she would never have…oh, never min
d, what‘s the use? Just mind your own affairs, thank you very much!”

  “Well, that’s certainly no way to speak to your…“

  She was interrupted as he threw his hands up in disgust and said, “Mother, SHUT UP. I’ve got more important things to do.”

  “WELL..” she huffed, but knowing better than to press him any further at the moment, simply turned and stalked out.

  *****************************************************

  Grace closed the door to the study, assuring she would have privacy, not wanting the help to overhear the sensitive conversation.

  Hurrying to her desk she dialed a familiar number, her hands shaking so badly she could barely hold the phone. As much as she hated to admit, even to herself, her conversation with her son had shaken her confidence badly, a feat no one had accomplished in years. The way he had spoken to her….

  When a woman‘s voice answered, she hissed, “Martina, it’s me. We have a problem. That fool son of mine is looking for that woman again. Now isn’t a good time for you to be away. You need to be here, building a relationship with Regan, that’s the only way you can get to Granger, I think.”

  Martina sat in her limo, nibbling on her lower lip, trying to think of a way to stop Granger from finding the bitch. She had already tried to get that stubborn brat of Granger’s to like her. She had tried gifts, even cash, and he still had never thawed to her.

  “Martina, you there…?”

  “Listen, Mother Grace, I have to be out on this business trip, I have little choice. My holdings my not be as vast and profitable as yours, but I have to see to what I do have. This is a very important buying trip for my stores. Since I’ve gotten my store into that development your son has, I want to make him see I can handle business. You just have to stop him, somehow, make him listen.” she whined, then noticed the limo driver watching her in the rear view mirror. Leaning forward, she pushed the button to raise the partition, covered the phone with her hand and sneered at the driver, “You’re paid to drive, not eavesdrop, Amigo.”

  Returning the phone to her ear, she continued. “Mother Grace, she won’t be found, believe me. You just have to think of some way to stop him until I get there, that‘s all.” She heard the older woman let out a frustrated sigh.

  “Very well, but dear, if you really want to marry my son you should return as soon as you can or your chance will be lost once again. He shouldn’t be that hard to seduce, you’re a beautiful woman with more class than Cassandra could ever have, and he’s been without a woman for a quite a while. Just come back and commit yourself to getting him.”

  “Will do, Mother.” she answered, then hung up and began biting a freshly manicured thumbnail subconsciously.

  Grace hung up the phone with a thoughtful look on her face, and began pacing, trying to think of her next move. Suddenly inspired, she decided to try to fish some information out of Malcolm, although she doubted it would work. He had always been tight-lipped and loyal to her son. But it was worth a shot, after all, desperate times called for desperate measures.

  ****************************************************

  “Everything is coming undone!” Martina seethed as she threw the cell phone to the floor of the limo. She simply had to figure out a way to make sure Cassandra never returned to Pinewood; she had worked too hard and waited too long for Granger to lose him.

  She closed her eyes and rocked back and forth, remembering the way he had made love to her. She loved the way he had completely dominated her, bringing her unimaginable pleasure. When he had refused to share his bed any longer, she had slept with countless men to try to find one who could recapture that bliss for her, but none had made her feel like he had. “No matter what, I won’t let that bitch have you.” she muttered, grinding her teeth together. Unable to help it, she thought of his estranged wife, of how he was searching for her, after all this time. The mere thought of a possible reconciliation between the two, of him touching her, wanting her, needing her…was just…

  Suddenly she let out a scream that sounded like a hundred banshees, and began beating her fists wildly on the window, then began kicking and throwing anything she could get her hands on.

  The tantrum was so violent it startled the driver badly enough to nearly lose control of the car.

  Chapter 2

  Jocelyn Ames closed out the web page she had been working on and sighed. She had just finished answering some responses concerning her missing daughter. She closed her eyes for a moment, eyes that burned dryly from countless hours of sleep she had missed. The last few years she had done the same thing over and over, someone claiming they spotted Cassandra in a mall, at an airport, or in some foreign country, and each time her hopes had been dashed, as was the case tonight. She had received an email from a woman who said she had spent time with her in a homeless shelter in Kentucky, but after talking to the police in the area and the shelter supervisor, she discovered once more that the woman in question wasn’t her daughter. As a matter of fact, she looked nothing like her, as she had seen when the police emailed her a photo for identification purposes.

  Many people had told her that she should give up, that Cassandra didn’t want to be found, but she refused to believe, unlike her son-in-law, that her daughter had simply abandoned her family. She knew her only child better than anyone, her child would never have just walked away, leaving behind her only child, whom she loved very much.

  Picking up a silver frame from her desk that contained a cherished photo of her baby girl and her grandchild, she reflected once more that there had never been any question of her daughter’s love and devotion for Regan. In the photo the child had his little arms wrapped around his mother’s neck, and their faces were pressed together as they smiled for the camera.

  She couldn’t simply let go. She thought of her husband Leo, who had passed away when Cassandra was fifteen. Cassandra was so much like him, from the dark flawless skin, high cheekbones, and her beautiful brown eyes. She even possessed her father’s gentle, loving nature, and his love of the outdoors. She chuckled, remembering the times when she was a little girl and her father would take her to the mountains ginseng hunting. They would come back covered in mud and God only knew what else, and the little girl would act as if she had spent the day at Disneyland. No, she would never just up and leave. If nothing else, she would have stayed put simply to annoy that nasty piece of work she called her mother-in-law, just for her and Regan’s sake.

  Her own bitterness for Grace Mortenson had first risen to the surface the moment the old witch had begun making Cassandra’s life hell, even before she and Granger had been married, and she had also said some nasty things about her when she went missing. That had been the last straw, and if it hadn’t been for Granger pulling her off the bitch, she would have strangled her to death with her bare hands on the spot.

  Jocelyn knew by instinct that she didn’t disappear willingly, and her belief was so strong that, up until this point, she had spent nearly all her life savings searching for her. The police had been very little help, they didn’t want to hear what a middle-class, retired postal worker had to say, when Granger, a powerful and important local businessman had told them that his wife had finally just up and left, after many threats of doing just that. And of course her daughter’s unusual behavior, before she went missing, had convinced nearly everyone that Granger was telling the truth. A few people had submitted affidavits stating that Cassandra herself had said she was very unhappy, and spoke often of leaving.

  Aside from that, she also suspected Grace had used some of her own influence to make sure the police never dug too deep in their efforts to find Cassandra.

  But she didn’t care, she would never give up. A day didn’t go by that she didn’t think of her, wondering if she was safe, warm, if she had enough food to eat, or if she was being mistreated.

  The ringing of her doorbell roused her from her thoughts. Frowning, she wondered who could be coming to her home at this time of night, anyone who kn
ew her knew she didn’t like visitors coming after six in the evening. But it could be about Cassandra…she thought, then quickly put the frame down, grabbed her robe, and went to answer the door, her heart racing.

  The doorbell rang several more times, in rapid succession, and she called out irritably, “Hold on, hold on, I’m coming! I’m an old woman, I can’t be running!”

  Finally reaching the doorway, she hesitated, and then took her ‘peashooter’ off a small table nearby. She was old and alone, and it wasn’t smart for any woman to carelessly throw a front door open at night. She had heard of people attacking old women, home invasions and the like, and if anyone tried to hurt her she was going to make sure she left a mark or two of her own. Looking though the peephole cautiously, she was stunned for a moment. Composing herself, she put the gun back down on the table and opened the door.

  “Oh, hey, sorry to bother you this late…”

  For a moment she simply stood there, giving Granger a hard look, her full lips pinched. She could tell he was uncomfortable, but honestly didn’t care.

  Stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans and looking away, he looked more like a young man unsure of himself, instead of a powerful, confident man who could make or break other men. It had taken him a while to work up the courage to come and see her, to tell her he was looking for her daughter. “Listen, Jocelyn, can I come in for moment? We need to talk.” he said nervously.