Free Final Deposit by Lisa Harris Page B

“Enough of me. I need a good distraction. Tell me what you’ve been doing the past few years, Kyle.”
    Kyle glanced at Lindsey, wondering how much he should disclose up front. “I own my own business.”
    â€œReally? Well, that’s quite impressive. What exactly do you do?”
    Kyle paused. “I’m in…finances.”
    â€œHe works with international-fraud cases and security issues,” Lindsey threw in.
    Apparently she had no problem getting straight to the point.
    â€œWait a minute, Lindsey.” Her father’s face paled as he tried to sit up. “Does this have to do with what we talked about this morning? Because if it does—”
    â€œHe can help, Daddy.” She pressed her lips together, looking directly at her father.
    Don’t crumble now, Lindsey. Your father needs you.
    â€œIf I told you I don’t need your help, then I certainly don’t need his help,” Mr. Taylor spouted. “You don’t understand any of this. Either of you. I told you everything was fine. You have to trust me.”
    â€œYes, but—”
    â€œLindsey, Abraham would never defraud me.” Mr. Taylor’s jaw tensed. “This is a private business matter. One I went into with my eyes wide open. Any losses I suffer are due to a corrupt foreign government. Not Abraham.” He grasped his daughter’s hand. “He’s my friend, Lindsey. Not a criminal.”
    Except Abraham was a criminal. And even if her father refused to admit it, he was worried. Kyle could tell by the older man’s clenched jaw and the beads of perspiration on his forehead.
    â€œSir, I understand your hesitation in wanting to talk about the situation, especially to me. But you need to know that all we want is to ensure that you’re not taken advantage of financially or in any other way, for that matter. We’re worried that Abraham Omah—”
    â€œI thought I made it clear that I don’t need your help.”
    â€œYou did make it clear, Daddy,” Lindsey said. “But that doesn’t take away the fact that there is a problem that can’t be ignored. We know what happened. You gave Abraham everything you had saved. You sold Mom’s porcelain figurines. You can’t deny that.”
    Mr. Taylor shook his head. “I will not discuss this. Not now. Not ever. I told you to trust me.”
    â€œThis isn’t about trusting you,” Lindsey said. “It about seeing the truth for what it is.”
    â€œLindsey, I’ve always taken care of you and your mother financially and nothing has changed.” His mouth tightened. “My business association with Mr. Omah is private.”
    â€œDaddy, I think you’re wrong. You need to be concerned about Mr. Omah.” She got up off the bed and stood beside the window that overlooked the city. “Kyle, please. Tell him what you’ve told me about these schemes.”
    Kyle looked at Lindsey’s father. A vein pulsed in the older man’s temple. As much as he wanted to help, the last thing he wanted to do was come between her and her father, or cause further strain on his health.
    â€œAnd I don’t want or need your services.” Mr. Taylor looked at his daughter, shaking his head slowly. “I…I want…”
    His words slurred. He pressed his hand against his chest.
    â€œDaddy?” Lindsey crossed to him.
    Her father didn’t respond.
    â€œSomething’s wrong,” Lindsey said, panic in her voice.
    Kyle ran into the hallway and called for help.

EIGHT
    L indsey felt Kyle’s hand on her elbow as the nurse asked them to stand back from the bed. The doctor entered the room. Lindsey fought to breathe. Her father’s face was pale, his eyes closed. Sharp voices rose above his ragged breathing as they worked on him. If she lost him now…
    Kyle pulled her toward the door. “You don’t have to stay and watch—”
    She