Firstborn Read online

  Firstborn:

  The MaCall Prophecy Trilogy

  Carrigan Fox

  Published by Carrigan Fox

  Copyright 2013 Carrigan Fox

  www.carriganfox.com

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be reproduced, copied, and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage others to download their own copy at Amazon.com. Thank you for your support.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Other Books by Carrigan Fox

  Coming in the Fall of 2013

  PROLOGUE

  Overcome with rage, the bearded man slammed his finger in the drawer and bellowed a string of obscenities. He reached for the back of the file cabinet and toppled it with a grunt of satisfaction. His satisfaction was short-lived.

  “There’s nothing here.”

  He turned to glare at the officer and snarled, “There has to be something.”

  “No photos, no calendar events, no emails, nothing. There’s no sign of the woman.”

  “But this is definitely the guy.” The question was in his tone, a tone that raised doubt over the competence of the man who was giving orders.

  The younger officer nodded, his eyes darting shiftily around the room, as though making a last ditch effort to identify any shred of significant evidence. His white blond eyebrows drew together in concentration and the bearded man was reminded of the young Nazi officer in The Sound of Music. He tried to imagine him dancing in the rain in a gazebo and smirked to himself.

  “How old are you, Dawson? Seventeen…going on eighteen?” he snorted.

  Dawson’s pale blue eyes flicked back to the bearded man. “Twenty-two, sir.” His young, clean-shaven face suggested no sense of humor. And clearly he had no knowledge of one of the world’s greatest musicals. The bearded man had fallen in love with Julie Andrews when he had been young. But hell, that was a lifetime ago. These days, given the proper motivation, he’d as soon put a bullet in each member of the Von Trapp family.

  Behind his beard, he frowned and returned his attention to the room. It was a tastefully but expensively furnished office. The mahogany desk had been practically cleared when they first entered the room, with none of the typical office equipment or notes that one would usually find on an office desk. The charcoal colored Herman Miller desk chair had been pushed in meticulously. Opposite the desk had stood two dark leather chairs. He was half tempted to try one of them out to see if it was as comfortable as it looked. He wondered if he had time for a quick cigar.

  He dug the steel toe of his boot into the plush Oriental rug and sneered as he imagined burning his cigar down to a stub and carelessly tapping ash onto the rug. Better yet, he could drop the stub and use the heel of his boots to grind it into the carpeting. At best, the doctor would never get rid of the cigar scent. If he were lucky, the rug would catch fire and take out the entire building.

  He frowned again, knowing that they needed to clear out. They hadn’t found what they had come for, and he didn’t want to destroy any possible evidence. It was possible they had arrived too early, in which case they’d have to come back again to reinvestigate…soon.

  Maybe he’d get to enjoy a good smoke in the leather chairs next time.

  C

  hapter 1

  Jac MaCall was trying desperately to focus on breathing deeply, inhale…exhale, but the sound of her sister’s ringtone was annoyingly distracting. She sighed when her phone finally fell silent and then groaned and unfolded herself when it rang again. She stood straight and stretched another moment before grabbing the cursed technological device.

  “Hello, Taryn,” she greeted with very little annoyance in her voice.

  “I need your help, Jac.” She continued on without waiting for agreement. “I’m on the side of the mother loving road with a flat tire. The tow truck I called is taking his sweet pony time. And I’ve got a consult a few blocks from your store.”

  “Do you need me to pick you up?”

  “I need you to take the consult. It’s in nine minutes.”

  “Oh, Taryn,” she groaned.

  “I know, I know. But I just need you to handle this one.”

  “I told you and Dad that I was done. You know that I have no passion for the security business.”

  “You’re great with the consults, Jac. It’s a natural gift.”

  “It’s a drag,” Jaclyn complained.

  “Thank you,” her sister sang.

  Jaclyn glanced out the window at the darkening skies and said a small spiteful prayer for rain to make her sister’s breakdown even more complete. Then she checked her watch and headed for the door, grabbing her purse along the way.

  Her phone pinged at her, indicating that her sister had texted her the address. She didn’t need the street number. It was a single story building in town that had been built specifically to serve as Archer Family Counseling. She had been driving past the sign on her way to her shop for months now. There were always cars parked in front of the small office building, so she had to assume that Dr. Archer’s business was booming. She imagined a small, portly man wearing glasses and a sweater vest. His hair would be thinning on top.

  Personally, she didn’t believe in therapy…at least not the kind that was conducted by a psychiatrist. There were better ways. She practiced a small professional smile as she made her way up the sidewalk.

  Inside, Will Archer impatiently glanced at the clock another time, wondering how MaCall Securities Consulting could possibly be the best when the representative couldn’t even manage to find his office on time. He ignored his restless urge to pace and leaned back in his chair instead, making another effort to concentrate on the case studies he’d been working on.

  When the doorbell rang, he tucked the files back into the folder and muttered, “Seven minutes late.”

  He opened the door as the heavens opened up, drenching the woman outside the front entrance. She stood with her back to him, not much over five feet tall, her blond-streaked chestnut colored hair catching his attention for the briefest of moments. Then he realized what she was wearing. She had on black cotton pants that were cropped almost to the knee and fit her rear end like spandex and a short plum colored hoodie. She whirled around to face him with the most electrifying grin on her face that extended to her eyes…eyes that were grey…no, they were lavender. He stood staring for a moment.

  “Perfect,” she laughed, shaking rain out of the short hair that fell only to her jaw line.

  “Hello?” he greeted with a question.

  “May I come in? I’ll shake your hand when I’m not getting poured on.” He stepped aside and she moved past him like a whisper, turning to look back into the rain. She added, “Spectacular,” before turning back to face him. “I’m looking for Dr. Archer.”

  “I’m sorry,” he stuttered. “I’m not seeing any more patients this evening. I have an appointment.” He had heard the phrase ‘laughing at the rain’ before, but this gorgeous eccentric made it look really attractive.

  She laughed and held out her hand. The movement drew his attention to her hoodie, which was not, at the moment, zipped up. She wore a black sports bra under
neath. Her belly was tanned and toned. And he swallowed thickly when the light reflected off of the silver jewel in her belly button. “I’m Jaclyn of MaCall Securities Consulting. I do apologize for being a couple of minutes late.”

  “Seven minutes,” he blurted out without intending to be rude. He simply was--if nothing else--a stickler for details.

  She hesitated a moment before smiling again. “That’s an excellent sign. Seven is my lucky number.”

  He was fairly certain she was laughing at him. He reached out to take her hand and was surprised by the firm grip of her handshake.

  After another moment of awkward silence, she looked around the office and suggested that he show her around and tell her what he had in mind for his new security system.

  She followed him from the entrance and lobby into his office and tried not to admire his rear end. His hair was blond with the tiniest hint of curl around the ears. And he showed no signs of balding. And while he did wear glasses, they looked cute in a nerdy way on the bridge of his straight Roman-esque nose. His mouth was full and serious.

  “I think that a new alarm system with cameras should be enough. But I want state-of-the-art. I had a break-in two nights ago, and they by-passed my alarm system.”

  “You had a break-in?” She couldn’t imagine why anyone would break into his office. She couldn’t believe that he kept any prescription medications on hand, and these days everyone knew better than to keep a lot of cash lying around.

  “Yes. I mentioned that to you on the phone.” He narrowed his eyes at her, wondering how such a flake had come to represent MaCall Securities Consulting.

  “I didn’t speak to you. You probably had the initial phone consult with Taryn. She, unfortunately, experienced some car trouble and is probably standing in the rain at this very moment cursing her bad luck.” Her purple eyes flicked to the storm-darkened window and she smiled broadly.

  She was cute. And sexy as hell. And it wasn’t just the belly button ring. He admired her shapely legs in her work-out clothes for another brief moment.

  “Why would someone have broken into a psychiatrist’s office? Drugs?”

  “I only write prescriptions. I have nothing here.”

  “Do you have many violent patients who might do something like this?”

  “A couple of rage issues or violent tendencies, but none of them would do this. And I don’t have any addicts who would be desperate for a fix,” he answered, honestly and without offense.

  “So who would have broken in?”

  “I have no idea. Perhaps it was someone who expected to find medications, someone who isn’t a patient and doesn’t know that I have nothing on hand here.”

  “What did it look like? The office I mean,” she added.

  He hesitated a moment, and she admired the way his head was cocked slightly to the side as he studied her with open curiosity…like an adorable cocker spaniel. He was cute. And sexy as hell. She blamed the glasses that accented the beautifully intelligent and serious green eyes.

  “I already spoke with the police about this.”

  She smiled sincerely and disarmingly. “If you would like me to use my expertise to recommend the best security, Dr. Archer, I need to get an idea of what you’re up against.”

  Again, he didn’t answer her question. Instead, she noticed his eyes dropping to her flat belly before he asked, “How long have you worked at MaCall Securities Consulting?”

  “I haven’t worked for MSC in nearly two years now. I actually own my own shop down the street. Perhaps you’ve heard of it. Triskele.”

  “You don’t work for MSC?”

  “Not anymore. I told you that Taryn asked me to fill in for her because she was not able to make the consult on time.”

  “She could have re-scheduled. I think that I would prefer to work with Taryn or a current employee.”

  Jac smiled to assure him that she wasn’t offended by his uptight rudeness. “I assure you, Dr. Archer, that I am as competent as Taryn. And when you consider that she’s fairly obtuse and doesn’t embrace her intuitive nature, in some respects I am even more competent than Taryn.”

  His eyes widened in surprise and disapproval.

  Jac laughed in response. “I’m Jac MaCall. I did mention that, didn’t I? Taryn is my little sister.”

  “And your father owns the company.”

  “Correct.”

  “But you haven’t worked for the company in two years.”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “I wasn’t driven by my career at MSC. So I took my savings, applied for a loan, and started Triskele.”

  “What is Triskele?”

  Jac considered her words carefully, both wanting to show her pride in her shop while not scaring off a potential customer for her sister. “Triskele is a shop that specializes in developing and strengthening intuitive health and awareness.”

  “Intuitive health and awareness?”

  She grinned at the skepticism in his voice. “When you say it that way, it doesn’t really sound too different from what you do, does it, Dr. Archer?” she teased.

  His eyes flashed, sparking with irritation that both pleased and intrigued Jac. “I suspect that our professions are more different than you might think, Ms. MaCall. Psychiatry is a science. I had to earn a PhD in order to work with my patients.”

  This seemed to amuse her as she chuckled and shook her head. “I was just messing with you, Dr. Archer. If you are comfortable with my qualifications, perhaps we could move forward with the consult.”

  He paused a moment, as though considering his precise level of comfort with her qualifications. “What would you recommend?”

  Jac reached into her purse and pulled out her phone. “Taryn emailed me the proposal while I was walking over here.” She read over the bullet pointed suggestions and filled in the detailed answers to any questions he had about the technology involved and whether or not remote access would be necessary.

  As she elaborated on the wireless equipment for the remote access, he resisted the temptation to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear for her. She really was a piece of work. And in spite of her hocus pocus shop, she did seem to know what she was talking about when she presented the pros and cons of taking advantage of the MSC drive-by check points.

  “I tend to agree with Taryn’s assessment and would recommend the upgraded alarm system along with the 360-degree cameras and motion sensors. But because of the unusual nature of the break-in, I don’t think it would hurt to contract out our security team to do a nightly drive-by, as well. At least for a couple of weeks.”

  “How soon can we get the new system installed?”

  “By the end of the week. Our installation crew has a few orders to process and will probably get to yours within the next two or three days. Taryn said she would have the office email you a copy of the contract. I can call and ask them to add the drive-by and email a new version. It won’t take more than a couple of minutes. Then I can get your signature and be on my way.”

  “Back to your spinning class?” he kidded.

  “Yoga,” she corrected.

  “Of course,” he answered dryly. “I do appreciate you taking the time to fill in for Taryn. With all of my patient files here, I do have required privacy laws to follow, and I am really unnerved by the possibility of someone gaining access to that privileged information.”

  “Were your files disturbed?” she asked.

  “This entire cabinet had been toppled.”

  He watched her well-shaped eyebrows draw together. “But no files were missing?”

  He shook his head. “Everything is accounted for. And 98% of my files are stored electronically. I occasionally take shorthand notes during my sessions and then type them up and file the shorthand notes.”

  “Was the computer disturbed?”

  “Not that I could tell. But I do typically leave it turned on.”

  “You probably shouldn’t do that. And make sure there’s a password protection required for login. I
wonder what they were looking for.” She stood and crossed the room to explore his bookshelves and the file cabinet that had been pushed over. She gently ran her fingertips over the surface of the cabinet as he stood close enough to her to catch a hint of peach scent.

  “The police already dusted for prints and found no evidence in this room. They cleared me to get everything back in order soon after that. There’s nothing here.”

  When she closed her eyes and curled her fingertips around the back of the cabinet as though she planned to pull it over herself, he opened his mouth to question her methods. But before he could speak, her eyes snapped open and she removed her hands quickly from the wooden cabinet surface. There wasn’t exactly nothing here.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Her eyes met his, but she didn’t answer him at first. She licked her suddenly dry lips and he touched her elbow with both concern and skepticism. He was afraid that she was going to get weird on him, judging by the look of surprise in her beautifully haunting eyes.

  “Ms. MaCall?”

  “I think we need to make some modifications to your contract, Dr. Archer.”

  The corners of his mouth began to twitch with humor, but the serious look in her eyes told him that she wasn’t joking.

  Since she turned thirteen, Jaclyn MaCall had received visions. Her grandmother had called it a blessing and had admitted that it was a family tradition. As with the majority of her previous visions, the images appeared without warning and were accompanied by a crystal clear soundtrack. She had seen a bearded man and a young blond man rifling through Dr. Archer’s office files. They were clearly looking for something specific and making no effort to hide any evidence of their search. In frustration, the blond had slammed a desk drawer and said, “Can’t we just eliminate the doctor?”

  The bearded man glanced at him with impatient irritation. “Not until we can be certain that he hasn’t already set the ball in motion. Keep looking for signs of the girl. The sooner we find her, the sooner we can move on this.”

  Will Archer grew serious in an instant when she didn’t elaborate. “Modifications? What do you mean?” he asked after an unnecessarily long pause.