Love After All

  CELESTE O. NORFLEET

  Love After All

  To fate and fortune

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  Coming Next Month

  Acknowledgments

  This is my tenth full-length novel and I’d like to thank the many booksellers and librarians who help keep my dream alive. Your dedication and devotion is unending and I truly appreciate you. I’d also like to thank the many book clubs who have selected my books to read over the years. It is a pleasure to come into your homes and share my imagination. I’d also like to thank my editor, Evette Porter, and my agent, Elaine English, having you on my side keeps me focused and motivated. As always, special thanks to my husband, Charles, my children, Jennifer, Christopher, Prince and Charles. And to my sisters, Amanda and Karen, my brothers, Butch and Garry, and to my mom, Mable E. Johnson, this would not be possible without you all. Lastly, thanks to China, Hattie, Roszine and Steve and to my wonderful in-laws for your continuous love and support. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart.

  Prologue

  Her rhythm was off. She’d felt it all weekend.

  Samantha Lee Taylor knocked twice and waited, then knocked again. There was no reply. She tried the doorknob. The door was unlocked. She opened it and walked inside. Her pulse quickened as she stood in the small vestibule, knowing instinctively that something was wrong. “Eric,” she called out. There was no answer. She walked farther inside and found everything exactly in place, exactly as it should be. And a shiver of nerves gripped her.

  This couldn’t be his apartment, she thought.

  Her new boyfriend, Eric Hamilton, a salesman at the computer company where she worked, had stood her up Friday night. She’d called all day Saturday and Sunday, and waited for word from him. He’d never returned her calls. Worry turned to fear and then to suspicion. So here she was on Monday morning, standing in his apartment. Where was he?

  “Eric,” she called out again as she looked around slowly. “Eric.” The apartment was scarcely furnished. She remembered him telling her that it came as is. She walked through the living room to the kitchenette. The tiny refrigerator door and cabinets were all open and empty. She hurried to the next room where she saw that a small bed in the corner was sloppily made. Nearly empty, the room’s only furniture was the bed, a chair, a desk in the opposite corner and a small chest of drawers. She walked over to the desk.

  A laptop computer, oddly familiar, was the only thing sitting there and it seemed out of place. She lifted the screen and instantly realized that it was her personal laptop. She sat down, switched it on and keyed in her password. It was rejected. She tried it once more. Rejected again. The password had obviously been changed. She felt a sudden sinking feeling in the bottom of her stomach. Eric had been on her personal computer and had changed her password. She typed in her back-door command and an instant later the screen saver appeared. He switched computers on purpose, but why?

  Seeing the PC gave her pause. Having never been in his apartment before she saw no logical reason for her computer to be there. So why was it? She remembered that a few weeks ago he had made a point of purchasing one exactly like hers. She’d even helped him set it up. Maybe he’d left his at the office and grabbed hers by mistake. As she pondered the situation, she continued to look around as the feeling of being conned began to sink in.

  Samantha slowly walked over to the closet. Opening it, she got her answer. It was empty. There was no sign of clothes, shoes or even hangers. She opened the top dresser drawer. It was empty, too. Anxiously, she opened each drawer; each was empty except for the last one. There she found a photo of the two of them together. Her heart raced and she walked back to the desk and looked down at the computer. As she prepared to turn it off, the phone rang.

  She looked around the empty bedroom guiltily, as if she’d been caught in the middle of a police dragnet. She slowly walked over to the phone on the floor and picked it up on the second ring.

  She said quickly, “Eric? What’s going on, where are—”

  “Samantha, get out of there now.”

  “Who is this?”

  “You know who it is, lollipop. Get out of there.”

  The word lollipop stopped her. There was only one person in the world who called her that. “Jefferson?” she asked at hearing her brother’s voice for the first time in nearly seven years. “Jefferson, is that you?” Having not heard from him in so long, and now suddenly hearing his voice in the last place she would have expected, stunned her.

  “Now!” he repeated more firmly.

  A minute later she was on the street walking away from her once-perfect life. She turned as police cars with flashing lights came screeching down the street. As other pedestrians moved toward the sudden police action, she quickly walked away. She removed her jacket, wrapping it around her waist, and tied her silk scarf stylishly around her hair. A few blocks away she hailed a cab, got in and headed back across town to her apartment.

  She pulled out her cell phone and saw several messages, none from Eric. She called the one marked Emergency, Please Call. Jillian, her assistant and friend, answered immediately.

  “Sam, I’ve been trying to call you all morning,” she said quietly. “Wherever you are, stay there. There’s a problem. Eric’s not here yet and there are people here looking for him and you, too.”

  “What do you mean? Who? What people?”

  “The police, for one.”

  “The police!” she said louder than she expected. The cabdriver glanced back in his mirror. She smiled calmly.

  “Yeah,” Jillian said, whispering now. “They didn’t exactly elaborate, but I heard someone say that there was a problem with your company.”

  “My company? What company? I don’t have a company.”

  “Well, according to them you do. They even showed me letterhead and business cards citing you as the owner of a computer business named Taylor Enterprises. Do you know anything about it?”

  “Taylor Enterprises, no, I never heard of it.”

  “Eric has. Apparently he worked for you at this company.”

  “He what?” she said, again too loud, drawing the cabdriver’s attention once more. He glanced at her through the rearview mirror, then back to the crosstown traffic.

  “That’s what they said…Eric worked for you. We told them that you were a consulting computer engineer here but they didn’t believe us. I overheard one of the police officers mention fraud and embezzlement.”

  “Fraud and embezzlement…Are you kidding me?” Samantha said in a near whisper, conscious of the cabdriver’s attention.

  “No, they took the office computers and even your personal computer. Someone said that Eric stole over fifty thousand dollars from the company, with fake invoices. They traced the signature back to an account in your name using a computer here at work. They think you were in on it, too,” she said whispering the last part.

  “This is crazy. I’m a computer specialist, I do company tech support. I’m not a crook, and if I was going to commit fraud I’d have enough sense not to ha
ve the signature traced back to me. That’s nuts. I’ll be right there to straighten this out.”

  “No, don’t. As I said, the police were in here earlier looking for you. Then about thirty minutes later two other men came looking for Eric. They said that they were from the police fraud division but they looked more like street thugs to me. One had on a bright purple suit and the other had a huge scar on the side of his face. They asked questions about Eric, then about you. I told them that I hadn’t seen you in days, but I don’t think they bought it.”

  “I’m not a thief. I didn’t steal any money.” Like a shattered glass Samantha’s mind whirled off in a hundred different directions as memories from her childhood surfaced. “I spent most of my childhood life on the run. I’m not running from this.”

  “I know that, girl, but you have to, at least for right now,” Jillian said supportively. “What about Eric, can you catch up with him at his place? Maybe he can explain this. But if he’s involved…”

  “Eric’s missing.”

  “Big surprise,” Jillian said sarcastically. “I knew he was no good. I overheard one of the police officers say that there was already a warrant out for his arrest from a previous problem.”

  “I just came from his apartment, it looked like he left in a hurry,” she hesitated, seeing the cabdriver glance at her in the rearview mirror again. “The police showed up right after I left.”

  “Did you find anything?”

  “Yeah, my laptop computer was there.”

  “What? Your laptop, how is that possible? The police just took it away,” Jillian said.

  “They must have taken Eric’s computer. They’re exactly the same. Remember, I went with him to buy a new one and even set it up for him? He switched them, I don’t even know when.”

  “I do,” Jillian said. “He switched computers last Friday. Something told me that he was up to something when he stopped by late Friday looking for you. You’d just left, I was on my way out and he said he needed to put something on your desk. He had his coat and computer with him when he went into your office.”

  “You’re right, that’s probably when he switched computers,” Samantha surmised. “I can’t believe this. Why?”

  “He’s a jerk, why else? Hold on, your office phone is ringing,” Jillian said. “Maybe that’s him.”

  Samantha waited while Jillian picked up her phone. As she listened to a muffled voice, she looked up at the driver. Apparently his interest in her conversation had long since waned, as he was now stopped at a traffic light, ardently checking out a woman in a midriff and tight jeans walking in front of the cab.

  As the driver approached her building she noted two men walking to a car parked out front. One wore a bright purple suit and the other had a scar on his face. The cab slowed to pull over, but she quickly instructed the driver to the take her to building across the street.

  “I’m back,” Jillian said.

  “Was it Eric?” Samantha asked.

  “No, stranger than that,” she said cautiously. “It was someone else. He said he was a friend of yours, but he didn’t want to leave a name or number. He called you lollipop.”

  “What did he say exactly?”

  “Something strange, really strange. He said that when I hear from you, I should tell you wait for the Wizard at Oz.” The line went silent as Samantha didn’t reply. “Samantha, are you there?”

  “Yes, I’m here.”

  “Do you understand, do you know what he’s talking about?”

  “Yes. Wait for the Wizard of Oz.”

  “What does it mean?”

  “I don’t know exactly. All I know is that I think I have to be scarce for a while. I don’t know how long, maybe a few weeks or maybe longer.”

  “Samantha.” Jillian sounded worried.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Just do me a favor and don’t mention to anyone that we talked, okay?”

  “Okay,” Jillian said reluctantly. “Is there anything I can do to help? Do you have any money?” She knew Samantha wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.

  “There’s nothing you can do and I have money saved. I need you to stay as far away as possible from all this.”

  “Samantha, whatever’s going on, please be careful. The two guys that came here didn’t look too friendly. I don’t know what Eric was mixed up in, but whatever it was sounds serious, so take care,” Jillian said.

  “I’ll call you soon,” Samantha promised as the driver stopped the cab and turned off the meter. He told her the charge and began logging in the destination.

  As she was looking in her purse for the correct change, she noticed that the two men got into their car but didn’t drive away. She knew they were waiting for her.

  “Do you have change for a hundred?” she asked the cabdriver.

  “Are you kidding me?” he said, looking up in the rearview mirror.

  “Fine, hold the hundred and take me to my bank around the corner so I can get change.”

  He agreed happily, holding on to the security of the hundred-dollar bill. As he pulled away from the curb, Samantha deliberately spilled change from her purse. Coins fell everywhere. “Oops,” she said.

  The driver looked up again, seeing that she had ducked down to pick up the coins.

  “Which bank?” he asked gruffly as he drove back by the front of her apartment building. The two men sitting in the car saw only the driver pass by.

  Still collecting change, she gave him directions to the closest bank around the corner, knowing that she would walk back to her apartment building and slip in the back door.

  Twenty minutes later, two bags in hand, she walked away from her life. Samantha Lee Taylor was now Samantha Lee, and heeding the message, she went into hiding, following the Yellow Brick Road all the way to Oz.

  Chapter 1

  Over the next four months, Samantha Lee’s life was complicated, to say the least. Being conned and betrayed by an ex-boyfriend, avoiding being questioned by the police and hiding out from street thugs had kept her busy, still waiting for word from Oz. In the meantime, she’d been searching for the one person who could return her life to her. She had a score to settle. At the moment, her life was on an even keel. But then again, it was her time; it was after twelve o’clock midnight when everything seemed familiar.

  After midnight was the golden hour.

  Her father always told her that there were two types of people, predators and decent folk. And that folk coming out after midnight were only looking for one thing—trouble. And more than likely that’s what they’d find. He lived by this one truth. And living by this code separated him from the predators. He never purposely targeted an innocent, although the greedy and morally challenged were another story.

  Thinking about her father brought back conflicting emotions. Deep inside, she knew that she still loved him, but she also hated what he did with his life. His world had torn her family apart, iced her mother’s heart and made her lose faith.

  While she was growing up he was her hero. Then he left and the comfortable feeling of family disappeared. Now she merely accepted that he was both hero and villain. Samantha smiled at the stray thought. After midnight was his time, and now it was hers. She now understood what he meant. Her senses were heightened and her instincts were at their sharpest. She ruled the night with complete confidence and control. It was the light of day that often confused matters for her.

  “So, how long have you been doing this?”

  She looked up into the rearview mirror, then back at the street in front of her. The slightly accented voice startled her momentarily. “Doing what?” she responded guiltily, having been caught slightly off guard. Driving on automatic, she’d let her thoughts wander off and she’d nearly forgotten that she wasn’t alone.

  “This, driving a cab, how long have you been doing this?” he repeated in a classic Bostonian accent that seemed to give his voice a level of eloquence and charm.

  “Not long,” Samantha said without eye contact,
hoping her short answer would end the prompted chitchat, as it usually did for those who insisted on dragging her into conversation.

  “Remarkable, quite remarkable indeed,” he said, nodding his apparent approval, then continuing, “You see, I’m a student of the philosophical nature of human behavior. I like to know what makes people do what they do, the will behind the deed so to speak. And I find you, or rather your stated occupation, intriguing—a young woman, quite attractive at that, driving, and all alone at night, remarkable and indeed impressive,” she didn’t answer. He continued, “I imagine that you would meet all kinds of interesting people, particularly at night.”

  “At times,” she muttered obligingly.

  “But then again, it would of course be the solitude that you enjoy most.”

  “Of course,” she moaned inwardly at his persistence.

  “How about that?” he said, then paused to chuckle at seemingly nothing in particular. His husky voice cracked with age and then steadied as he repeated, “How about that?”

  They drove in silence for a few more blocks until he spoke again. “Are you an aspiring actress or model or writer or something like that?” She glanced up at him and then back at the street as he said. “I only ask because you just don’t seem to be the type to do this for a living. So I assume that you’re only doing it to raise extra money or as a side job until something better comes along.”

  “I drive,” she answered simply, sticking to her two-word answers.

  “Bravo, good for you, well done, and you drive quite well, I might add. You are to be commended.”

  He sounded too joyous to be believed. She didn’t respond.