Page 32 of Spotted at Lighthouse Bay (Spotted Cottage #4)

One week. That was all Rick got before Addy connected all the dots and brought the whole operation crashing down.

The last panic attack felt like it had happened to someone else.

He connected with a new therapist and had his first session virtually, the ocean at his back.

He gave Addy more freedom, not insisting on following her around, but they still spent most of their time together.

Drinking tea. Going to dinner. Going kayaking, again, this time trying to catch a wild orca pod swimming by.

They were too slow, or maybe scared them off with their laughter booming across the water.

With the information Addy had found, the hacker was able to link Cliff to an organized crime family in California.

Rick wasn’t shocked by this. Flex Knock and its underlings seemed shady from the first moment he laid eyes on them.

The rest of what the hacker uncovered shocked even Rick’s weary soul.

Cliff worked under a company called Privatize Solutions.

On the surface, it was a Canadian warehousing company with an interest in commercial real estate.

The bland name hid a host of companies connected via personnel and funding – a telemarketing company that lied to people to fundraise; a cancer “charity” that absorbed ninety percent of donations for

administrative activities; a hedge fund that had lost the state of Pennsylvania’s teachers pensions before folding up; a security company known as IronClad Elite; and, last but not least, the rapidly expanding business of home reorganization, Flex Knock.

Privatize Solutions also happened to be the company suing the Canadian government, arguing it was violating the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms by limiting donations in political campaigns.

Rick about fell out of his seat when he heard that. This previously squeaky-clean company had brought the case Addy’s husband was currently hearing.

She had debated if she should tell her ex-husband or go to the press. Ultimately, she did both. The mighty Judge Shane didn’t seem interested in what she had to say until it became national news.

Mob Tied to Election Donation Lawsuit.

Only then did the honorable Judge Shane run with it.

The reporters ripped the rest of the story apart, exposing the endless avenues of fraud and corruption from the organization and its goons.

The public lambasted Privatize Solutions’ plot to bring dirty money into Canadian politics, citing the disaster of repealing Citizen’s United in 2010 in the US and allowing unlimited anonymous money to flow into politics.

For a solid seventy-two hours, it was the only story in the whole of Canada. Rather unfairly, Addy didn’t receive any credit. The case was dropped, though, and that was enough for her.

“I don’t want them knowing I figured it out,” she argued. “They’re dangerous people. We saw that. I don’t want them thinking about me again.”

Rick could only stare at her. “I know, but you put your life in danger to find this out.”

She shrugged. “All in a day’s work. “

He laughed. She was far too humble.

Back in the US, things were moving quickly, too. Cliff was arrested on racketeering charges. The Washington Attorney General brought a case against Flex Knock, and after a tip from an anonymous hacker citizen, both Sebastian and Julian had their parole revoked for separate violations.

The odd tragedy of it all was that Rick had no excuse to stay any longer. There was no threat left to Addy, and IronClad Elite still wanted their car back.

“I got a ferry ticket for tomorrow,” he said weakly.

Her eyes fell. “Oh. Yeah, of course. You need to get back to your life. What do you think you’re going to do next? “

“Nothing is going to live up to this job.”

She grinned. “Sorry, buddy. You can’t uncover an international scandal every week.”

That evening, Addy went to the tea shop for one of Patty’s famous tea parties. Mackenzie was on the island, and Marilyn and Lawrence were there to celebrate getting their money back.

Rick lagged behind to pack up his things. It was strange to be separated from Addy. It felt wrong, but he had to get used to it.

He thought it might trigger a panic attack, but it didn’t. Instead, he wandered around, tidying things that didn’t need to be tidied, staring longingly at places that held memories for him.

When the front door opened, he looked over with a leap in his heart, hoping Addy had come back for him.

Unfortunately, it was Marilyn.

“Hello, young Rick,” she said, waltzing in, draped in a puffy red coat, the cuffs lined with feathers.

“Marilyn. It’s nice to see you.”

She took the coat off her slim shoulders and let it drop onto the couch. It feathered out as big as a blanket, draping over half the cushions. “I was afraid I wouldn’t get a chance to thank you for what you did.”

He looked down at his hands. “I was about to head over. I’m tidying up a few things.”

“Tidying up a few things,” she repeated, nodding. “I talked to Patty, you know.”

There was nothing he’d like more than not to know. “That’s nice.”

She let out a huff. “You’re not understanding me, Rick. I’ve come to do you a favor.”

He raised his eyebrows. He had no interest in her favors. “Please don’t worry about me.”

Glass clanked and rolled. A wine bottle stopped at his feet.

“Remember this?” she asked.

Surely he hadn’t shared a bottle of wine with Marilyn and blocked it out? Had she managed to drug him? “Can’t say so, no.”

She sighed, hands on her hips. “It’s the bottle I caught Addy trying to throw into the ocean. You remember, the day we met?”

“Oh, sure. I’m pretty sure she was cleaning it up.” And throwing out her shoulder. The memory warmed his chest.

“And I’m pretty sure I know my own daughter,” she said. “You need to read the message inside and think about what you’re doing. This is me thanking you. Got it?”

She picked up her coat and walked out, pausing to look over her shoulder. “I was never here.” She winked a big, fake eyelash.

He watched as she shuffled back out the door.

His senses were really too dull to argue with her or ask what she was talking about.

Yet, despite thinking Marilyn was batty, he pulled out the cork. It took a minute of shaking for the note to fall out. He unraveled it and Addy’s handwriting stared up at him.

It read simply, elegantly, in the middle of the page: Will anyone ever love me again?

His stomach lurched. What did that mean? How was Marilyn doing a favor for him by showing him this?

This seemed deeply personal for Addy. He shouldn’t have opened it. But now, how could he ever forget?