This Very Moment Page 10

  Mrs. Simpton patted his arm as he stared after the car. “That’s a nice girl you have there, Dr. Dubrey. It’s high time you got married. You’re not getting any younger, you know.”

  “He said they’re just friends,” Mr. Simpton reminded her.

  Mrs. Simpton sniffed. “Didn’t you hear her tell him to bring a Bible? That’s more than friendship.”

  Bill sighed. What was wrong with him? Kylee was vivacious, beautiful, and funny—and she liked him. Even Mrs. Simpton could see that. He remembered vividly how alive Kylee had made him feel in the hot tub, and how he yearned to hold her. Nicole was dead and gone forever. Maybe it was time to stop living in the past.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Late Friday afternoon, Kylee’s world crashed. She had tried calling Elaina all day to verify the time when Anna would meet with the 60 Minutes reporter and camera crew before her scheduled surgery. Finally, she drove to the downtown office, where the receptionist Children’s Hope had hired from the temp service greeted her.

  “Hi, Julie. Did Elaina ever come in?” Kylee asked. “I really need to know what time the camera crew should be there on the eighth. They have to know today.”

  Julie shook her head. “I’m sorry. Ms. Rinehart hasn’t come in so I couldn’t ask her. Mr. Stutts either. They didn’t come in yesterday because of Thanksgiving, but today I expected them both by nine. I’ve already canceled a score of appointments for them. I don’t know what to do.”

  Kylee’s irritation turned to worry. She knew they had both quit their other jobs when Children’s Hope had begun to receive funds, their hands full with the new demands of the charity, and it wasn’t like either of them to desert their desks. Had they been in an accident?

  “Maybe we should call the hospitals,” she said slowly.

  Julie bit her lip with slightly crooked front teeth. “You think so? Maybe they eloped and got married yesterday, and they’re just late coming in. That would explain it.”

  Kylee liked Julie’s explanation better, but thought it was unlikely the couple had found someone to marry them on Thanksgiving. “Well, I’m going to Elaina’s office to peek at her desk planner. She must have found out the surgery time by now and forgotten to tell me.”

  “I don’t know,” Julie said, hesitating.

  “Don’t worry, Julie. If Elaina doesn’t like me going in there, I’ll take responsibility.”

  “Would you?” Julie’s face was both eager and apologetic. “Because I’m really hoping this’ll become permanent. I like working here.”

  Kylee opened the door to Elaina’s office, almost expecting it to be locked. Who would leave their office open for two days? A woman in love?

  Another more unpleasant thought came, but Kylee pushed it aside. She stared at the desk where only two days before Elaina had sat voicing her concerns about the additional children asking for help. Now the chair was empty. On the desk, two stacks of papers sat neatly on each side and between the stacks a single sheet of stationery lay on the desk. The note was addressed to her. Kylee read it first with disbelief and then with utter despair.

  Dear Kylee,

  I know you’re going to hate me for this, but I can’t stand the pressure. In all the years we’ve struggled here, I’ve never touched a penny, but now I’m going to find my own happiness with Troy. I can’t change the world, but I can get away from it. Don’t try to find us, you won’t be able to. I hope you understand that it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for me. I know the children will be all right. You’ll see to that.

  Elaina

  A once-in-a-life-time opportunity. The words reverberated in Kylee’s mind. Opportunity? Stealing happiness from innocent children, an opportunity? Kylee’s breath came in violent gasps. In an instant, she was transported back to the day Raymond had left her.

  “It’s your fault,” he said, pointing at her stomach. “You’re choosing that baby over us. It’s as simple as that.”

  Was Elaina’s betrayal also her fault? “You’ll see to the children,” she had written. Elaina knew how important the project was to Kylee. She had seen the “opportunity” and taken it, depending on Kylee to fix things.

  Kylee slumped to the chair by the desk, her breath still coming ragged and harsh.

  “What’s wrong?” Julie appeared in the doorway, her hazel eyes wide. “You’re not having a heart attack, are you? Should I call 911?”

  Kylee shook her head and thrust the paper at her.

  Julie read the note. “Does this mean she took the money? All of it? She couldn’t have! What about the children?”

  Kylee forced herself to stop crying. Take deep breaths, she told herself. “We don’t know how much they took yet, but we’d better call the police.”

  “Mr. Stutts is gone too? I bet they did elope.”

  “Yeah.” Kylee reached for the phone. “I guess they did.”

  The next few hours were a nightmare for Kylee. The police questioned her and checked the bank accounts held by Children’s Hope. The results led them to call in the FBI.

  “Apparently they had a total of about 24.6 million dollars from three separate accounts transferred to a bank in Switzerland, where it then was transferred to a series of European banks. There we lost the trail. My guess is they’re in Brazil or some place, sipping martinis on a beach.” The FBI special agent looked at her kindly. “That’s all we can tell you right now. Of course, we’ll probably have more questions for you later, but why don’t you go home for now? We’ll let you know when we have anything more.”

  Julie walked out with her to the car. “I guess that means I don’t have a job anymore. Isn’t there any money left at all? Poor little Anna. She was so excited about the operation. She said to me yesterday that she was sure it would bring her a friend.”

  “There’s still money coming in,” Kylee said. “But once the press gets wind of this, that’ll stop. I don’t know if we’ll have enough to help any children.”

  Julie sighed. “This is so lousy. I’m really sorry.”

  Kylee drove home in a daze. Once there, she took out her personal bank statements and stared at the numbers without recognition. How could she help Anna and the rest? It was an impossibility. There was only one way the surgeries could go through as planned.

  Bill.

  * * * * *

  When Bill knocked on Kylee’s door Friday night, he didn’t expect to find her unready for the dance. “What’s up?” he asked. Her eyes were red and puffy as though she had been crying for a long time.

  She stared at him, and he saw the devastation in her face. “Elaina and Troy,” she began slowly. “They ran away with all the money I raised for Children’s Hope. Everything except what I haven’t collected in the past two days from the phone solicitation agency. Every dime.” She began to cry. “I’ve never worked so hard in my life or achieved such success, and they ran off with everything.”

  He hugged her. “I’m so sorry. When did it happen?”

  She told him, looking sad and lost. “I should have known.” She walked over to the couch but didn’t sit down. He followed her.

  “You couldn’t have known.”

  “But I am responsible.” Her tear-filled eyes searched his, as though begging for another explanation. “I looked at their books. They were scrupulously honest. In all the years Elaina and Troy dedicated to the charity, they took payments only for their hourly work, and very modest at that. You should’ve seen the expense accounts of some of the other charities I’ve helped—exorbitant lunches, posh furniture, and weekends out of town that all came from the budget. Even clothing and gifts. Incredible. That was what so impressed me about Children’s Hope. I wanted them to have the money because I knew they’d use it to do good and not waste it on frivolous things. The people on my lists trust me to do the research, to make sure their money gets where they intended it to go. I failed them all.”

  “It’s not your fault.” Bill patted her back ineffectually.

  “Yes it is. Don’t you see? All these
years Elaina and Troy struggled and kept at it because they knew they were the only ones to help these children, and then here I come and raise more money in a few months than they raised in the entire five years they’ve operated the charity.”

  “So they ran away because you could raise money better than they could?” Bill didn’t think Kylee was making sense. Must be the shock.

  “No! It was because I cared!” Her eyes flashed angrily. “Because I cared, those idiots knew I’d continue to help the children once they took off with the money.” Her face became pleading. “And I have to do it, Bill. I promised Anna and the others.” Kylee looked away from him, and her voice came from far away. “But how? Once this hits the papers the donations will stop. Everything will be lost. No one will trust my name again.” She paused. “That’s okay. My name’s not as important as the children. I can change my name.”

  Bill blinked in surprise. “You’d change your name?”

  Her gaze shifted to meet his again, challenging. “If that’s what it takes! You did.”

  “It can’t be all gone. They left two days ago, didn’t they? More money must have come in since then.”

  Kylee nodded. “There might be enough to pay for Anna’s first surgery.”

  “See, there’s a start.”

  She shook her head violently. “No, no, no! What about the others? There are hundreds of them. Hundreds! Many don’t even live in America. They’ll need plane fare, or we’ll have to send the doctors to them.”

  “I have some money,” Bill said, wanting desperately to ease the pain in her eyes. Kylee seemed on the verge of a nervous breakdown. “I have a lot of it put away. You can have it. And I’ll help you get more. But you have to realize that none of this is your fault.”

  The frantic look left Kylee’s eyes. She studied him for a long time before speaking. “You’re right,” she said calmly. “I do need to think about this rationally. But I don’t need your money, Bill. Well, I do, but no one person has enough money to replace what Troy and Elaina stole. No one who’ll give it to me, that is. There’s only one thing that will give those children their surgeries on their scheduled days, and that’s if you’ll do them. The parts you’re qualified to do, anyway.”

  Bill felt as though she had punched him in the stomach with a fifty-pound weight. Nicole’s face came to mind, slowly blackening as it must have in the fire—when he had been too concerned over his own pain to help her. “No.”

  Her hands tightened into fists. “Why? It’s the only way. The doctors may donate their time, but I still have to pay the hospital costs, and that’s more than I can afford after this disaster. But you do a lot in your own clinic. You could do it for less.”

  “It’s not my specialty. I do mostly cosmetic surgery now.”

  “You used to do a lot of the other surgeries, and I know you studied them in depth when you were in school here. Nicole told me. When we talked about Anna, you knew all about what she’d need. You could help her and many of the others. You’re the best—everyone says so. Why can’t you use the talent God gave you to help innocent children who no one cares about? Even Elaina and Troy, the ones who were supposed to protect them, betrayed their trust. Why can’t you help? Please, Bill.”

  He backed away from her, his heart pounding in his chest. God hadn’t given him a talent. He had earned his skill, every step of the way. It was all he had done since Nicole. “I can’t do it.”

  “Can’t or won’t?” She took a step toward him. “Tell me what it’s like to feed the ego of men and women who can’t face the fact that they’re getting old. Is that fulfilling?”

  “I do much more than that. I change lives in my own way. I give new hope. How dare you judge what I do by your narrow standards.”

  The fury in his voice found its mark and Kylee wilted to the couch. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I really am. I have no right to judge you. I just thought that . . .” She laid her head on the arm of the sofa and sobbed.

  Bill’s heart was breaking. He wanted more than anything to help and comfort Kylee, but he couldn’t. The one thing she wanted, he couldn’t give her. He was unable to help the children. He couldn’t look into their eyes and promise happiness when he didn’t believe such a thing really existed. He could not face failure again.

  Without another word he turned and fled from the apartment, Kylee’s soft sobs following into the quiet of the hallway.

  * * * * *

  Kylee heard the door shut softly and knew Bill was gone. Gone in her time of need, just like Raymond. “Oh, Emily!” she whispered, and cried harder now that no one was around to hear.

  Near midnight there were no more tears left, and Kylee went to the bathroom sink to splash her face. Then she took a pain killer for the shattering ache in her head. She stared at the mirror, hands grasping either side of the sink. Dear Lord, she prayed. What now? How can I go on again?

  Even as she thought the words, she knew that she would go on. This trial was devastating, but she had gone through worse and survived. She knew the Lord loved her and would help her again.

  She went to the desk in her room and began to plan. On her computer she typed a note to the people on her charity lists, explaining the entire situation and her intent to continue helping the children.

  . . . I am devastated by this turn of events, but I will not let the children suffer for the selfishness of those who pretended to help them. Please know that I will do anything in my power to see that these innocent children receive the surgeries they so desperately need. I sincerely and deeply apologize for trusting your generous funds to those with their own agenda. I know that your families and companies will be blessed as though your contributions had gone to the children as you each intended. May God keep you all.

  Next, Kylee wrote a release and readied it to fax to the newspapers. Better they hear it from her in a way that might evoke sympathy rather than allowing the reporters to put their own spin on the events. She e-mailed a copy of the release to the address on the card the FBI special agent had given her, asking if they objected to her releasing the information. She marked it urgent and prayed for a quick response. One of the agents had mentioned a new supervisor who recently came from their San Diego field office, and she prayed the man would be settled in enough to know about her case.

  Leaving the computer on, Kylee fell into bed fully dressed in the green suit she had worn all day. Seemingly moments later, she was awakened by a persistent beeping. Blinking at the sunlight streaming through the curtains, she searched for the source of the sound and finally focused on her computer. She had received an e-mail from the FBI.

  Go ahead with your release. It won’t interfere with our investigation. We have also prepared a statement for the press, but it is sadly lacking the humanistic angle so it is likely they will prefer yours. I wish you the best, and for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. By the way, we’ve taken a hat and passed it around down here, and we’ve raised a bit of money for the little girl’s surgery. Hope it helps.

  Justin Rotua

  FBI Supervisory Special Agent

  Tears of gratitude filled Kylee’s eyes. Maybe she couldn’t help all of the children, but at least Anna would be helped, and that was a beginning. Taking a deep breath, she faxed the news release. Already, she thought of a half-dozen phone calls she needed to make, beginning with 60 Minutes. Elaina and Troy stealing the charity’s funds would be one of their biggest stories of the year, and if she told it well enough, it might even help the children.

  Who would help her and Bill? Her soul yearned for him, but he had deserted her.

  Like Raymond.

  Why did it always come to this?

  I should never have let things with Bill go so far, she thought. I should have known better than to fall in love with an unbeliever.

  The thoughts didn’t appease her need for him, but made the loss even more raw and aching. She laid her head down on the desk and wept. Shortly, she would go on with her life and begin the mountainous work before he
r, but for this brief moment in time she would allow herself to mourn her lost chance with Bill.

  The doorbell rang and Kylee started. Could it be Bill? She prayed that it was. She blew her nose quickly and wiped under her eyes. There wouldn’t be time to hide the fact that she had been crying.

  The doorbell rang again as she reached the door. Please be Bill.

  Standing uncertainly in the hall was Anna Johnson and her mother. Anna’s face, streaked with tears, was nearly lost inside the too-large coat. Her mother looked pale and ill, her red eyes swollen. Kylee knew the woman didn’t own a car and must have paid a taxi to drive her—an expense she could ill afford.

  Mrs. Johnson cleared her throat. “Is it true? Julie called me and told me what happened.” She gazed at Kylee, pleadingly. “Please, say it’s not true.”

  Kylee recovered instantly from her disappointment at not seeing Bill and ushered the Johnsons into her apartment. “It’s true,” she said. “I wish it weren’t but it is.”

  Mrs. Johnson pulled out a handkerchief from the pocket of her worn coat, dabbing at her face as the tears fell. She drew her hand to her chest. “My poor Anna. She’s been waiting so long.” The tears became a flood, and Kylee stood helplessly, not knowing how to help her. Anna watched them, her beautiful dark eyes also filling with tears.

  “Come, sit.” Kylee put a hand on Mrs. Johnson’s arm, worried at the gray color of the woman’s face and the odd way she clutched at her chest.

  “I—I can’t . . . I have a pain . . . Oh, Anna . . .” Mrs. Johnson collapsed, and it was all Kylee could do to prevent the woman’s head from hitting against the ground.

  “Mommy!” Anna rushed to her mother’s side.

  Kylee dived for her phone and dialed 911.

  The minutes waiting for the ambulance seemed interminable. Kylee found only a very faint pulse on Mrs. Johnson’s throat, and wondered if she should begin CPR. But what if she made things worse? By the time the EMTs arrived she was frantic with worry.