The End Game

By James Barrow

Three lives, two tragedies, one act of revenge.

Alexis Williams, a brilliant lawyer running a successful law practice, and Dr. Robert Peterson, head of cardiology of a children's hospital, begin a long-anticipated holiday aboard a luxurious yacht for a cruise along the coast of the Pacific North West. Stepping aboard the floating palace they unknowingly enter an intricate snare of deception vigorously fuelled by revenge.

Bradley Rand, the yacht's owner, is a confident, brooding and extremely wealthy businessman. He patiently and meticulously planned their lavish vacation, and what was presented as a trip to paradise turns out to be an intricate web of retaliation and retribution. Alexis and Robert have become Bradley's prisoners and the focus for rancor against a world that owes him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: James Barrow
• Release date: Jul 20, 2014
• ISBN: 9780980906615

Book preview

Chapter One

The soil was soft. An eerie silence settled into the thick forest around her. Only the faint rhythmic murmur of waves lapping the shoreline at a short distance off persisted. Even the birds remained silent, perhaps in apprehension of the event unraveling in their domain.

Daylight quickly surrendered to the night’s sky, leaving a dank darkness to envelop her like a moldy blanket. Each breath more laborious than the last, Alexis pulled herself through the dense underbrush dragging her injured leg like a heavy stone. Complete exhaustion forced her to find a hiding place nestled under the hollow of an old craggy log that had long ago given up any pretense of life.

Through thousands of years the seasons had laid to rest deep carpets of autumn leaves, broken branches, and the debris nature deposits for its survival. A perpetual creation for self-sustenance. The musty smell of this decaying underbrush, and odors of tree pollen and young evergreens, all fragrances of nature’s life cycles in one deep breath provided Alexis an unfamiliar cradle for the night. Her eyes closed as she succumbed.

The first rays of sunlight broke through the trees, and the mist slowly began to clear as Alexis cautiously leaned her head into the light, slowly opening her eyes, catching her first glimpse of the shoreline and feeling the prospect of freedom.

Alexis struggled to release herself from her temporary refuge. Twigs entwined in her matted hair, she continued the painful crawl toward the waterfront. Her wounded leg trembling, a painful reminder of her mortality and the physical vulnerability of her circumstance. Warm blood trickled from her left arm now saturating her jacket’s sleeve. Pain radiated through her body with each motion. Involuntary chattering of her teeth made her head throb. Alexis was fighting, striving to maintain consciousness. She had lost too much blood. Any reserves of adrenaline she might have beckoned had drained away. Reliable reason and logic would not help her survive this nightmare. Primal instincts and intuition were now her only useful partners. Anger welled up, this time at herself. Intuitively she had known. The signs had become evident. It had been far too obvious. Keep moving damn you. Can’t ever give him the satisfaction of getting me back there. Damn him and damn them, keep moving. How could you allow this happen?

She winced as a branch pulled strands of hair from her temple, a screaming insult to an already gravely injured body . . . to a gravely injured mind. Alexis had let down her guard, opened the door. Now she was paying a toll, possibly the ultimate and final toll.

Just ahead a dilapidated rowboat at the water’s edge, looking more like a coffin than a lifesaver, was an odd but welcome sight. Alexis allowed herself a faint optimism. She had made it this far. Too far to lose now.

She had no way of knowing with any certainty how long it had taken her captors to notice her disappearance, or even if they had, but notice they would. It was just a matter of time before they would find her. Precious time. The only advance warning would be the crackling of dead leaves under heavy steps serving notice of a menacing approach through the woods. Perforating the haze of pain she summoned a little clarity, pulling, begging for answers, and invoking strength to prevail. Get to the water, she mumbled to herself, don’t let him win, can’t let him win.

Only three days earlier, life had been so ordinary. A seemingly innocent holiday, a celebration, had too quickly transformed into a perilous trap. Her guarded and uncomplicated existence turned upside down through an aggressive and complicated subterfuge. Her jumbled thoughts bounced around a disorganized garden, no linear sequence. Nothing made sense. Too exhausted to understand, she had no choice but to move on. Escape the insanity. Anything, anything to be back home surrounded by familiar objects, chairs, pillows, snuggled up in her bed, drifting into fantasies of a good book and consoled by warm tea . . . but now that hardly seemed possible. Had they left anything she could return to? Her sanctuary, her most treasured possessions had been violated. Each corner of her being had been assaulted.

Her thoughts drifted to Robert. Why had he not shown up to meet her as planned? What could they possibly have done to him? She knew that if Robert had not escaped he would become leverage. Leverage forcing her return. Nausea rose in her throat. Stop, she ordered herself. She feared getting lost in a haze of questions and knew that to survive she would have to separate herself and focus. One thing at a time.

Inching herself a few more feet she applied her uninjured shoulder against the bow of the rowboat. Squeezing energy from each breath, she struggled to nudge the boat off the rocks and into the water toward freedom. A jolt of pain from her leg screamed up her spine and pummeled the back of her head. The exertion was more than her body could manage. Slowly her head slumped and her cheek pressed onto the wet pebbles. Her eyes closed involuntarily. Consciousness dimmed once more. So close.

Chapter Two

Alexis Williams rose from her chair and turned to stand, gazing out the window at the harbor. Time for some private dialogue. The floor-to-ceiling glass panels in her twenty-first floor office provided a priceless view. She looked onto Vancouver’s Coal Harbor Marina, sheltered from the ocean by Stanley Park and framed by the towering Rocky Mountains rising sharply on the North Shore. The panorama, only this city could provide, was a cherished picture postcard and a gratifying indulgence. Postcards had a surreal quality to them. They could call beyond the present, to somewhere deep in the imagination, triggering images and feelings -- momentary diversions. High above anxious cars rushing to endless but shrinking parking spaces, Alexis daily welcomed the enchantment. A physical beauty of ocean meeting forests meeting mountains, resonating a permanent imprint on all who had the good fortune to be dazzled by it.

Alexis had followed her parents out to the West Coast after high school and was a graduate of the University of British Columbia Law School. Single-minded focus kept her at or near the top of each class on her way to a degree. Vancouver’s laid back, four o’clock mentality had escaped her as she swept through the British Columbia Bar exams. She was in that phase of life when nothing seemed impossible and each moment compelled an action. No challenge was too extreme. In any case, life was to be experienced. Alexis savored all she could sample and there was also a world waiting, begging to be examined, challenged, and possible, touched positively just a little.

She looked out in the distance to her left at a young girl strolling along the Stanley Park seawall holding her father’s hand. Alexis’ manicured nail tapped the glass gently. That corner of the postcard drew her back to a summer many years earlier while on holidays to the West Coast with her parents. She had taken that exact same walk, and in that very spot had clutched her father’s hand as tightly as she had been able. She had tugged him sideways to the edge and gazed down into the rushing waters pulled and pushed by tides. Her young daredevil had leaned just a little too far. Her father’s gentle hand had squeezed ever more slightly. His presence had emanated a sense of comfort, a feeling of invulnerability.

She basked in the sanctuary of her father’s calm strength during those early years. Further along the walk she had stood below the Lion’s Gate Bridge looking up, marveling at the massive steel structure hanging high in the sky, magically suspended in the air, holding cars aloft, a giant conveyer belt shuttling them from the city to the bedroom communities of the North Shore. The old postcard remained vivid. Alexis gazed at the little girl often. It was a serene and innocent place to visit, back in the wonders of a loving childhood so many years ago. Perhaps a child of my own one of these days. What changes might that bring? Would parenthood really offer answers to life’s quandaries and bring cheerfulness to the darker moments? Wistful dreams for someplace out on the horizon of time.

Standing inches from the glass her bright green eyes absorbed the scenery, dissipating the fog around uncertainties. Perhaps the height providing views to an infinite outlook was a subtle influence on her usually rational perspectives. Alexis watched seaplanes make rapid landings and deafening takeoffs out of the harbor with roars she could feel from her perch. Though the pilots shuttling back and forth to Vancouver Island made the exercise appear effortless, she found taking a ferry to the island made for a more prudent passage.

How could she ever tire of this natural spectacle? She could languish in daydreams or invite this scene to stimulate her creative energies. A private vista to tranquility and inspiration.

The voyage to this view had fully absorbed Alexis. Her family law practice did not entirely consume her, but it’s application and her sense of right and wrong, directly and indirectly, engaged most of her waking moments.

You slide into your work and one day there you are, firmly atop the world, staring out at a perfect picture, as perfect as your career. A career could be an effective veil, carefully woven to obscure those very private places from the view of others, and of oneself.

Mallory Clark and Todd Mitchell had proven to be considerate and supportive law partners. The past five years had exceeded their expectations for their family law practice. Along the way, Clark, Williams & Mitchell became groundbreakers in the effort to bring a broader awareness and attention to the realities of child abuse and child poverty. With Alexis leading the charge, the partners devoted time and sincere effort in support of social service agencies, attending to young children at the bottom of the social and financial food chain, the forgotten.

Individuals, children and families, one after the other, entered her professional world through the glass doors of her law firm’s entrance. Each with distinct needs requiring her particular skills. Most clients were referrals in search of the rare blend of intellect and sensitivity Alexis had built a reputation on. All clients wanted to win, at least all the adult ones. The children just wanted someone to love them, though each had a mandatory adult in tow often looking for a score or attempting to even one. Few clients ever became friends, but her partnership in Clark, Williams & Mitchell was the consuming focus of her life.

The rare moments when not in front of the courts or in the law library, Alexis crammed with participation in charities supporting abused children. Her heart flew with each small success of the foundation she had established to help children in dire need. The foundation was her baby.

Schedules and clocks. Clocks and schedules. For some the hour hand on the clock was an adequate pendulum. For Alexis, the minute hand was barely sufficient. Life was a sequence of empty spaces each clamoring to be engaged with an action. A positive act. Even with an assistant she still required a thousand notes, on her desk, on her bedroom dresser, on her fridge, on her computer, in her purse and wherever else the pendulum of time triggered a compulsion to leave one. Even her smart phone was occasionally shadowed by notes. Myriad explicit reminders. Little invaders knocking, tapping on her shoulder for attention. There were too many to heed and most were too old to matter, but they were methodical, tireless, advancing – like an invading army of ants. One of these days she would address these little trespassers overrunning her life. One day soon.

Time. The elusive, hard to comprehend, and rare element in one’s lifetime had to be consumed. Alexis’ drive to do so was an unconscious force -- an obstinate companion nudging, sometimes shoving. The result was a strenuous agenda leaving little devotion to an insipid personal life.

Still, there was plenty to be grateful for. Other than daily frustrations with the complexities of a legal system answering only to itself, Alexis was content. All but for one thing -- no one to share it with -- it’s ups and downs, it’s successes and it’s failures. Someone through whom joys would be amplified and resonate back with smiles, hugs or kisses. Robert, the one person she confided in, was too far away to make such feelings materialize. Thirty five hundred miles too far to share in anything but the occasional earthshaking up or down.

Squinting from the bright light flooding into her office, Alexis rehearsed the wording for a brief and concise presentation that she would be making to a judge in two hours. Before setting foot into a courtroom the text had to be carefully crafted, each word committed to memory, and outlines written out for reference. Assiduous preparation had earned her a reputation. When working her theater in full dress, Alexis was a skilled master.

Although this present case was not particularly complicated her appearance before a judge mandated thoroughly reasoned strategy, and a rehearsal. All of them did. My Lord, my learned colleague has twice asked for a continuance, Alexis said aloud standing, facing her picture postcard, each time we have agreed in good faith and your Lordship has been gracious enough to grant both requests. Contrary to claims otherwise, we have received evidence the defendant is changing domiciles to Bermuda. We wish to file this letter into evidence as exhibit ‘A, twenty three’. As has already been evidenced, child support is six months in arrears, which speaks to the defendant's state of mind. Pursuing the defendant out of the country would obviously cause my client and particularly her child great hardship. We have furthermore received evidence of assets held but not identified in the list filed with this court on February fifteenth of this year. It turns out a British corporation, in which the defendant holds a ten percent interest through a holding company in Singapore, has been sold. We ask for either a bond to be posted with this court in the amount of our petition or for assets covering double the amounts in question to be ordered frozen until such time as this case is resolved. Double, my Lord, because we have no way of knowing the future value of such assets if their disposition was ever necessitated.

Even uncomplicated cases demanded diligent preparation. Seemingly simple things, if missed, could backfire on her clients. No such thing as a straightforward or simple proceeding in front of a judge, and why was it always the simple ones that turned into nightmares?

Her confident, forthright manner with judges and juries left many opposing counsels looking for rationalizations for having lost cases to this unassuming officer of the courts. Her predominantly male opponents didn’t fear her, though they frequently resented her victories. Fear might have granted her too much tribute. Practicing law meant waging war on a battlefield where reputations, careers and income relied on winning, and only on winning. Coming up against Alexis made that particular measure of success so much more difficult to achieve. Alexis took it in stride and continued her perseverance in doing the right things right. In this arena, Alexis was a ranking rainmaker.

A faint smile crossed her face as Robert meandered into her thoughts again. They had been best friends since high school. You could hardly call the times they went out together, ‘dates’. Although Robert had vigorously pursued a closer relationship with Alexis, it remained a warm friendship. Deep in her heart she knew it had always been much more. She knew it and she felt it, but had always blocked it -- her back against the wall, she pushed it away.

For Robert Peterson, the relationship remained stranded there, suspended in a holding pattern awaiting a magic wind to supply momentum. Alexis would come around. Some day, perhaps time would assist.

Robert’s determination to improve the world around him had taken precedence in his own life. When not in the operating room, he relentlessly threw energy into raising funds for The Child Care Fund a foundation for which he was Chairman and Trustee. Regardless of the fact that the paths of their careers long ago diverged, a strong common interest had proven fertile ground for the nurture of their long distance companionship after Alexis had moved west. A dedication to improving the plight of children periodically brought Alexis and Robert together in different cities across North America.

Alexis always struggled to adequately describe her relationship with Robert. They had been close since high school. Her heart was always with him and during her quiet moments she dared wonder if he might fit the definition of soul mate. Their melding energies felt stronger than either could grasp or understand. How hard could it be, he’s tolerant, he has a confident, generous and kind spirit. I just have to quit pushing him away.

It was time for reconciliation with a part of herself, which she had allowed to glaze over, even repress, for self-preservation. Murky catacombs of banished memories would be revisited and reexamined. Robert had called her a few evenings ago. I have some good news, Allie. Good news that could become great news. A courier arrived at the office today notifying me that I’ve won a trip for two aboard one hell of a yacht, with all the bells and whistles. I would like you to come with me. We should have a little time for ourselves. I’ll get into the details later, Robert explained. Her silent response was familiar. He continued, I know what you’re thinking, and believe me, this isn’t a set up. I really did win this trip. I’ll show you the letter as proof. Cut that out, Allie. I can hear you thinking up an excuse. Forget it. You’re coming.

For a few years, Robert had championed a variety of propositions for joint holidays with Alexis. A holiday to anywhere would have been sensational. On recent occasions, he had even purchased plane tickets in vain attempts to jolt Alexis into sunlight. Much to his repeated disappointments, her overwhelming schedule ambushed all endeavors.

Her schedule was her sanctuary. A self-imposed loaded timetable perpetually rolling forward into the future, squashing unsolicited approaches in its path and filling a nonexistent void as an excuse to keep all individuals at bay. There was great comfort in her heavily burdened calendar, well managed to stop all who might encroach on her solitude. An impeding blockade Robert encountered much too often.

Well I wouldn’t put it past you to make all of this up, Alexis teased. I must say, if it’s the result of those abundantly imaginative juices of yours, it’s most creative, Alexis continued with a mischievous tone, on the other hand, maybe you should just be certified. And when is this trip supposed to take place?

This territory was too familiar. Robert was prepared, ready and rehearsed. Allie, cut the crap. It’s planned for three weeks from now. From what I understand, this cruise is dependent on the season because of changing weather conditions in the fall. If we miss it, we might be able to pick it up next year but I really don’t want to do that. What’d be the point?

Robert was not about to back down. He continued, Allie, I’ve never won anything in my life, ever, not even a t-shirt, surely that has some currency here. And I’m not going alone. Who else am I going to take? You’re the only one I can go away with and unwind at the same time. So get creative and make room for it, and I don’t just mean in your schedule. Quit with the stubbornness and allow some space for yourself, for me. If not I’ll have to take drastic measures.

Such as?

Kidnapping for one.

You’re right, you never win anything, so how on earth did you win this? Alexis continued the teasing.

You know, I’m really not sure. I vaguely remember filling out an entry at a charity event I attended last spring and never thought of it again. And this isn’t a junket. It’s the real thing. I had it checked out. First class luxury. I’m as surprised as you are, but I’d like us both to enjoy it together. Just think, it could be one hell of a week away from phones and civilization basking in what the brochure describes as a cradle of pure and opulent luxury. Maybe not quite their words, but it sounds good to me. It’s got to sound good to you. You have no excuses this time. I know you don’t. Robert was determined he would prevail.

Peterson, am I supposed to drop everything on a whim? Need I remind you I am self-employed and have a business here requiring my complete concentration ten plus hours a day? I’m really not trying to be difficult, but this is going to be tough to pull off. I hadn’t planned on taking a break for another few months. Alexis wasn’t sure she was convincing herself, much less convincing Robert.

Yah! Right. I knew you’d make this complicated. I’ll cop to it, I’ve already talked to Rachel to see what your calendar could tell me. I’m sure it's only a rare lapse in recollection but you’ll be elated to discover that one of your cases settled yesterday which was to go to trial the week we are to be traveling. You had two weeks assigned to the case. Gotcha! More time than we need. It’s destiny. You’re free, I’m free, what more can I say? Do you want me on my knees begging? In person? Come to think of it, this is begging.

So keep begging.

Okay, let me check my speech notes here. It’s been two years since you’ve taken a break longer than five minutes. You’ll be doing your clients a great service by recharging. There is no feeling comparable to the energy you get from breathing ocean air that the wind has washed through.

Oh, please stop. Now you’re overdoing it. Get a refund from your speech writer.

Come on, if anyone knows, you should. All those ions filling your lungs. You’ll be reborn, and knowing you the way I do, the minute we get there you’ll say ‘you were right’.

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. She found herself silently agreeing with him and welcoming the possibilities of renewal that a break would provide. A long overdue opportunity to oblige her personal life with some attention.

I know you hate being told what to do. So I’ll back off.

Alright, you. Call me tomorrow. I’ll take a look at my schedule and see how, and if, I can reorganize my life. I have to have a serious negotiation with the post-it notes on my computer and all over my kitchen. How this world is going to function without me for a week will be for you to account for.

Now you’re talkin’. Nine o’clock bright and early.

"Yes, nine my time. Not yours, Peterson.

Chapter Three

The following day, Robert faxed Alexis the confirmation letter of the trip. No pretense about it. Such would not have been his nature. He had indeed won a trip for two aboard a luxurious yacht departing from Vancouver. The yacht was to take a cruise up the Georgia Straight meandering through islands between the British Columbia mainland and Vancouver Island. A relatively loose agenda. The one-week passage would include a visit to the exotic beauty of Desolation Sound and a brief layover on a remote island before the return to Vancouver.

As anticipated, Robert’s followed-up phone call came at precisely nine o’clock, so, what’s the verdict?

It looks inviting. It also seems like an incredible boat. I suppose I can be persuaded, Alexis admitted. Okay, I confess it’s what I need and I suspect it’ll also be a good break for you. You’re right. Time to treat ourselves. Time for a little R ‘n R in the company of my best friend. I really appreciate your persistence, Robert, thanks. We’ll discuss the details over the next few days.

After hanging up with Robert, she read the fax one more time then flipped it into her out-basket. As the fax landed, something caught her eye. Alexis jerked forward to grab it again as if grabbing a precious object about to fall off the desk. It hadn’t registered upon first reading, but there it was. The sponsor’s name. Rand Holdings Corp. Could it be a random coincidence? She wondered. It has to be his company. It’s consistent with the type of foundation he supports. No, there are no coincidences, she reminded herself.

Rachel, her assistant and paralegal, walked in interrupting her thoughts. Here is the file on the Walters investigation including the last update. Rachel placed the file on Alexis’ large light oak desk and dropped three opened letters into the in-basket. Evidently his shares were committed as part of the sale. It should thrill the judge. Walters ignored his court order. It’s pretty black and white if you ask me, Rachel continued.

Perhaps you can take good care of the hearing for me then. Meanwhile, Rachel, take a look at the bottom of this letter. Notice the name, Rand Holdings Corp. Do you remember Bradley Rand? He’s the most recent and largest contributor to our charity.

Sure, that rich guy you were so impressed with.

Could it possibly be his company? The more Alexis thought about it, the more she was convinced. Bradley Rand and Rand Holdings Corp. had to be one and the same.

Well, let’s just see. Give me a sec, Rachel said as she turned and walked to a large filing cabinet just outside Alexis’ office. Rachel quickly searched through one of the drawers. Here it is. Yep, it’s him. Why, what’s up?

I thought so. Hmm. You know the discussions you’ve been having with Robert over the past couple of days about my schedule? Did he explain to you he won a trip?

Well, not totally, Rachel’s cheeks flushed slightly with her answer.

It appears he has won a trip for two aboard a beautiful yacht and he’s asked me to accompany him. But I believe you already know about that too, right?

I will not acknowledge the question on the grounds doing so will explicitly incriminate me.

Yes, well, Robert never has been one to leave many stones unturned, continued Alexis. Anyway, I have to admit it sounds terrific and I suppose if planning a little time away were left up to me, it would never happen.

If you don’t mind me asking, what does Bradley Rand have to do with it?

The fax Robert sent this morning indicates the company which donated the trip was Rand Holdings Corp., as in Bradley Rand and company. Small world isn’t it?

Alexis knew little about Rand Holdings Corp. other than it was a private holding company with assets spread around the world. It had offices in Vancouver, San Francisco and probably other cities as well. She had no idea if the headquarters were here, but she knew the principal and probably only shareholder. Bradley Rand had become, by far, the largest individual benefactor to her foundation.

Sibilance buzzed through her ears and communicated with that corner of her brain that accepted thought for action. Seek. The pleading commanded attention again. Her curiosity was activated. The urge to delve and investigate prompted her. An old and familiar desire to ask that most probing universal question. Why. Then seek the answer. The coincidence triggered the frequent compulsion.

When others might have innocently asked their parents where babies came from, Alexis questioned her mother as to why people had them at all. Why, was always more revealing. What made things work was less important to her than their purpose. For now, Alexis needed to know why the recent source of substantial funds for her foundation was also making donations in Toronto. One that Robert had somehow made a connection with.

Alexis walked back to the window allowing her thoughts to drift back to Robert. To this trip of his. Of theirs. Could she allow herself to surrender to emotions or relent to passion? Would she? Robert had always been respectful, even deferential of her emotional threshold. She cared for him more than anyone in the world. She knew that having left all efforts to fuel the emotional fires between them in Robert’s lap was unfair. This trip would push her to face what she had done her best to evade . . . the intimate side of their relationship. Deep at the core of her being, her own intimacy lay dormant.

What day are you going? asked Rachel who had stepped back in to drop another file on her desk.

Alexis turned to face Rachel, I didn’t say I was going, but I do need to go over my schedule with you to make sure we can move things around, in case I decide to go.

Oh come on, Alexis, you need it! It’s about time you did something like this. Something for yourself. I’ll even help you pack. With no court time to tie you up for a couple of weeks, you’re free as a bird. Of course, you realize you also don’t have to come back right away, I mean, you two could take a walk on the wild side and elope or something, Rachel said coyly.

Now don’t you start on me. Robert needs no help from you, Alexis replied, returning to the panorama outside her window, her beckoning postcard. A seaplane made a circle in final approach for a landing with a cargo of business flyers to be deposited at a waterside platform. She reached down and touched it as she might a toy . . . gently pulling it forward and sideways bringing its pontoons to make contact with the dock, holding it steady. On second thought, maybe you’re his co-conspirator in all of this. How much is he paying you? Alexis turned to Rachel joyfully.

Look, I understand, I really do, said Rachel, I know how dedicated you are to your clients, to this business. I also know you take on way more than you should. You are a clever woman, Alexis. You know that to remain effective requires an occasional intermission. Learn to take vacations before work and stress takes a toll on your health. What good would poor health serve? Go clear your head. There are other facets of life that are equally important. We all need a little love in our lives.

Want, replied Alexis emphatically, want, not need!

Rachel moved in closer putting her fists on her hips. Whatever! Don’t change the subject. Robert is a wonderful guy, not to mention easy on the eyes. Sends you too many flowers, if you ask me. And, he actually has a steady job. What a bonus. There isn’t anything you don’t know about him. He’s loved you forever and that’s why no one else can have him. You’re both perfect for one another and I think deep down you know it. So what’s your problem? And, Alexis, you’re wrong. It’s need. We all need love in our lives.

Rachel had been working for Alexis since the birth of the partnership seven years earlier and was rarely shy about speaking her mind. Within minutes of Rachel’s very first steps into the office for her original interview, the job had been hers. Alexis’ hunch had provided her with a brilliant and reliable paralegal that carried more than her share of the load. It also pulled a new friend into her life. Rachel’s often too candid manner provided spirited entertainment, but beyond the candor, Alexis found a vital alter ego.

Thank you so much for the Rachel Philosophy 101 lecture. Now I need you to do some digging for me. Find out all you can on Bradley Rand and Rand Holdings Corp. It won’t be easy, but let me know what you find. Also check with the courts, including federal, for actions against or on behalf of the company both here and in the U.S.

Is this a new priority or a hobby?

On a scale of one to ten, it’s a seven.

Ooh. Something’s up. What?

Not what, but why. This isn’t a coincidence, said Alexis pointing to the fax on her desk. Happy digging.

Rachel smiled and walked out shutting the door behind her. Much of the time the door was left open, part of an open door policy toward staff and partners Alexis had introduced to the firm. For now Rachel knew her boss needed privacy. Something important to be pondered required quiet time.

A full week on a boat with Robert. Nowhere to run, Alexis, she said out loud to herself. A mild shudder of sadness swept through her. Oh no, it’s coming again. Only mildly this time, the chest tightening and heart rate creeping up. She pushed back the dark images that had, in a flash, attempted to surface.

Exhale and take a long deep breath. If Rachel knew or could see those images so many years ago, she may well soften her persistence. Old secrets have isolated me from so much. Will I ever really be able to open up? I don’t even know where to start. One thing is certain, I absolutely must get over it.

A corner of her subconscious mind, the bottomless vessel of all she had ever felt and experienced, was not in her control. One horrific event so many years ago sporadically replayed unwanted sequences. Threads of feelings that had altered little through the years. Sequences she could partially repress, but not obliterate.

Alexis had sporadically visited therapists. There were always excuses or rationalizations for not continuing the sessions. She would then become embarrassed so she would find another therapist and start the therapy treadmill all over again.

Cognitive behavioral therapy, they mystifyingly called it, but their definition of cognitive all too often didn’t match hers . . . and the looks she received from some therapists. Prying eyes psychotherapically undressed her as she sat, tensed up on couches, various couches, hardly intended for the comfort of patients. They needed therapy more than I did. Still, here we are, dark feelings, dark shadows, my dubious stalkers and I. How can I effectively share these feelings when I don’t understand them? And why, after so many years, do they still haunt me? Persistent, dark shadows. Can’t even tell what they are. Damn them. Breathe. Go back to the postcard. Alter the emotional landscape. Alexis straightened her posture and focused on the horizon altering her train of thought. It was a well-practiced routine.

Robert could not fully empathize, but he brought compassion when she had shared the complexity of her recurrent nightmares. The nurturing support of a best friend was a rare blessing. One she cherished. His patience through all these years. His unwavering patience. Don’t know any others who would do it. She could feel