Page 1 of German

Chapter1

Marietta,California

Maddy

Digging into my Prada bag, I checked my phone and saw that my father had called three times, yet hadn’t left a message.That was strange.I wondered what was so important that he’d reached out so many times but didn’t leave a voicemail?

My father loved me.Adored me actually.But he didn’t have the time to talk to me directly most days.That was usually his secretary’s job.It was no secret that Christine had been responsible for buying my birthday and Christmas gifts since my mom passed away from cancer when I was in the third grade.From clothes to cars, she knew my tastes to a “T” as she’d been a de facto parent to me in every way that matters over the years.

When I got my period in the sixth grade, it was Christine who bought me my first pads, and eventually, tampons.My first kiss at fourteen?Christine was there to listen to my excited retelling.At fifteen, when that no-good rat-bastard Michael Torrington broke up with me and started dating Karri Masterson, the head of the Cheer squad who regularly put out, Christine was there to wipe my tears and buy me a chocolate milkshake.

Yup, Christine was one amazing employee.And if she ever decided to leave the business she’d worked at for twenty-plus years, I don’t think the place would continue to stand outside of a week of her departure.

I didn’t blame my father though.Being a single parent, even under the best circumstances, was rough.After the death of my mother, he’d been lost.His love language to me had become gift-giving.Besides work, it was all he knew how to do.At least that’s what my therapist said.When I was young, that translated to all the Barbies and dream houses my little heart desired.When I was older, that morphed into designer handbags, pricey vacations, and fast cars.

And my dad could afford it.He’d made a killing in the dotcom era when everyone was becoming rich overnight.Now he owned his own private software company that had over a hundred employees and seemed to grow exponentially every year.

Hitting redial, I tried calling my father back.It rang several times before going to voicemail once again.Deciding not to stop at the coffee shop for a latte as Christine and I had planned, I headed directly home.As I exited the highway, I dialed Christine.If anyone knew where my dad was, it was his loyal secretary.

To my shock, she didn’t answer.Another woman did.“Alec Framingham’s office,” the young woman spoke far too cheerfully.“This is Brenda speaking.How can I help you?”

A cold chill crept down my spine.Who the hell was Brenda and why was she answering Christine’s phone?Informing the woman who I was, I swallowed my fear and asked where my father and Christine were.

“I don’t know Ms.Framingham, but if you leave a message, I can give it to your father as soon as I see him.”

Not bothering to leave a message or even say goodbye, I rudely disconnected the call.Stepping on the gas, I drove my bright red two-seater convertible at breakneck speed all the way to Coldwell Manor.

Yes, my family home had a name.My father had purchased the garish property shortly after my mother had passed.At twenty-three, I realize now why he couldn’t stay where I’d been born and raised.The house where hospice had taken care of my sick mother.The very same one the morgue had picked her up from.But at nine, I’d cried for a solid month into my pillow each night for the home we’d left behind, and the mother I’d never see again.

I felt that same cold dread now when Christine hadn’t answered her phone.Was something wrong with her?Is that why my father had tried calling me from his own personal cell?

Pulling up to the gate, I punched in the code and then waited impatiently for it to swing wide and permit me entrance.Cutting the engine, I jumped out of the compact car and raced up to the front door.

Entering the thirteen-digit code with shaking fingers, I fumbled on the eleventh number.Slowing myself down, I repeated it and managed to perform it correctly this time.Bursting through the front door, I raced to my father’s study where he practically lived whenever he was at home.

Not bothering to knock, I shoved open the door.Inside the room was my father and several men.Taking in their store brand suits and tired faces, I concluded they were law enforcement.I didn’t even have to see their badges to know.

“Maddy!”my father shouted in relief.

Getting to his feet, he strode over to me and swallowed me into his comforting embrace.He hadn’t done that since… since my mother had died.Dread, as thick as mud, settled over me then.

In a very public display of affection that I was unused to from the typically stoic man, he kissed my head and squeezed me tight.That embrace held all of his love, fear, and anxiety wrapped in one very intense ball.If I hadn’t been afraid before, I certainly was now.

“This, I presume, is your daughter,” a man with a watery blue gaze stated, shifting his light frame onto his right foot as he took in my appearance from head to toe.The perusal wasn’t sexual in nature.It was more like he was studying a specimen for dissection later.

Slowly extricating himself from our embrace, my father bobbed his head up and down and I swear I saw moisture pool in his brown eyes.“It is.This is my Maddy.”

“Daddy?”I said slowly, unsure where to even begin, “What’s going on here?Why did you call me so many times and why isn’t Christine answering her phone at the office?”

My father’s face twisted in a grimace of pain.“Why don’t you take a seat, Maddy.”

When he offered me his own, I vigorously shook my head.“I’m too upset and need to stand.Just tell me what happened, Daddy.You’re really freaking me out.”

Not beating around the bush, he finally said the words I’d feared the most.“Christine was attacked today in our parking garage.”

“Attacked?”I repeated, horrified.“What happened?”

My father’s face contorted again.“She was on her way to her car when she was jumped by a masked man.”

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