Betrayal - Fern Michaels [97]
This was just the beginning. All the years working with the IRS, studying the use of computers, not to mention the dozens of courses she’d taken over the years. She had enough power to hurt a lot of people with her skills. She was a regular hacker. She would have fun tonight.
She arrived at her apartment with a big smile plastered across her face. She took out a frozen dinner, looked at the ingredients, and tossed it in the garbage. She hadn’t prepared a decent meal in ages. It was time she started living. She would celebrate the occasion by cooking a nice meal for herself. Before she could change her mind, she grabbed her purse and car keys.
She hadn’t really grocery-shopped for years. She’d bought crap. It was a miracle she didn’t have high cholesterol and heart disease with the bad food she’d been putting in her body. She would make a nice pasta dinner with a salad. That would be enough for starters. Maybe when all of this was behind her, she could enjoy cooking again. That is, if she didn’t get caught. But prisons needed cooks, too.
She paid for her groceries with cash. She wondered how Debbie was going to pay for her next purchase, whatever it might be. She had a few more moves to make, then the Winter family would be cash-locked, credit-locked, whatever you wanted to call it. Debbie would be begging to sell doghouses when she was through with her. Another thought occurred to her. There’s a licensing board for Realtors. Surely it has some kind of code of ethics. I’ll find out.
Back at her apartment, she spent an hour making dinner. She recalled the meals she used to make for Alex. He liked everything, had never complained about serving as her official guinea pig when it came to trying new recipes. Even after all these years, she still missed him.
While waiting for the water to boil for the pasta, she minced garlic, onions, and mushrooms. She sautéed them with butter and a touch of olive oil. A few dribbles of real cream and a splash of wine. She made a salad with endive, radicchio, and romaine. A crumble of blue cheese, a handful of walnuts. She added a touch of balsamic vinegar to the salad, a dollop of olive oil. She inhaled. Her apartment smelled like home. Suddenly she felt the need to talk to Gertie. Her old friend was getting up in years. Kate couldn’t forget about her. Gertie had devoted her life to her parents and then to her and Alex. She wished she would retire soon. Lauren was still in college. Gertie wanted her to take over when she graduated. Kate had an inkling of an idea, but she’d wait before she mentioned anything about it to Gertie.
The pasta was boiling, and the salad was ready. She’d break her rules just this once. She would call Gertie from home. Since she’d been gone, Gertie had moved into the main house. She hadn’t wanted to, but Kate had insisted. It was closer to the kennel, plus she hated to leave the big old house empty. Gertie brought some of the dogs back with her each afternoon, and that was fine with Kate. Before she changed her mind, she dialed her old number.
Kate kept an eye on the boiling pasta.
“Hello.”
“Hi, it’s me.” She never said her name when she called. She knew it was silly, but it was one of those precautions that she’d insisted on.
“Well, hello, me. It’s about time you called,” Gertie replied.
Kate heard the smile in her voice. “I had to move. That took a few weeks to orchestrate. How are you? And tell me the truth.”
“I never lie to you K—, kiddo. I’m okay. Arthritis is still giving me fits, but other than that, nothing new except more pups.”
“Wonderful. I’m sure you’ll find good homes for them.”
“Don’t I always?”
“Yes, of course you do. Now listen to me. I am getting things done here. All the years of planning are about to come to fruition. I observed a reaction to some of my work just today. It was quite satisfying.”
“I bet it was. I hope to high heaven you know what you’re doing. I think you should just forget this crazy plan and come home.”
When their conversations got to this point, Kate knew it was time to hang