Page 48 of Unplanned Target

Moving away from that window, I go back to the chat Heidi started, and scroll through in search of the information for my financial institutions. Picking the one with my primary checking account, I use the credentials to log in and breathe out a sigh of relief when it looks exactly like it should. Both my checking and my savings, along with Allie’s accounts, are perfectly fine.

“Thank God for that.” Rectifying whatever has happened at my house is already overwhelming enough to consider. Thinking of trying to chase down stolen money had me considering curling up in a ball for the next twenty years.

I quickly go down the line, confirming my investments and credit card balances are all equally untouched. I don’t know when Owen told Heidi to handle this, but it must have been pretty freaking soon after my purse was taken. Because it doesn’t seem like anything was accessed.

Going back to the window displaying the boardgame, I use my new password and username to log into a popular shopping website. After adding a whole list of items to my basket, I start to check out. Then remember the credit card they have on file no longer works. So I have to retrieve the envelope Owen brought, activate the one I’d like to use, and add it to the account.

Then, I’m faced with yet another fucking roadblock. Where in the hell do I ship this stuff to?

I could go find Owen and ask him, but he seemed pretty adamant that he wanted to talk to my brother privately. And it’s possible that’s the right decision since I would likely make the situation worse. The second Tony said anything even a little bad about—or to—Owen, I’d start lashing out. Then he would lash out, and Owen would punch him again.

So I go back to the chat again, this time writing a message of my own.

Heidi,

Thank you so much for everything you did. I appreciate your quick work on securing all my accounts. Everything looks as it should. I also appreciate the computers and phones. Getting back to some sort of normalcy will be fantastic.

In that same vein of getting back to normalcy, I attempted to make a purchase and realized I don’t know where to have anything shipped. Is there an address I should use for deliveries?

Thank you again,

Miranda

I’m used to waiting hours for reply emails, so I’m shocked when Heidi comes back immediately.

Miranda,

I’m so super glad everything was there. I totally could have tracked it all down, but it would’ve been a royal pain in the ass. Owen probably would’ve also insisted on hunting down whoever stole your money and killing them, which would have been an additional set of paperwork I’d have to fill out, and that also sounded like no fun to me.

Yay for getting back into the swing of things and partaking in some retail therapy. If a cart full of emotional support items doesn’t make you feel better, I don’t know what will. Probably legit therapy, but it’s certainly not as immediate.

You can actually have anything you want sent directly to the main office at the Nashville campus. They’ll bring it straight to your room.

After listing out the address of my current location, Heidi signs off.

I think I like her. I am a little concerned about her claim that Owen would hunt down those men if they’d stolen my money, but I’m pretty sure she was exaggerating.

Probably.

After entering my new address, I place the order, pleased to see that the bulk of it will actually be here tomorrow.

Then I take a deep breath, and open up my email. I’m not sure how Heidi was able to access pretty much every account I’ve ever had, but I probably don’t want to know. If I understood just how easy it is to access every part of my life, I’d probably never sleep again.

As expected, my inbox is packed. I’ve been gone for less than forty-eight hours, and my clients are acting like I’ve abandoned them for an eternity. What in the hell would they do if I got sick? Had to go to the hospital for an emergency surgery?

Probably act the same damn way. Or worse.

Opening the first email in line, I quickly skim the text. When I get to the bottom I stop, blinking hard a few times before going back to the top.

Surely I didn’t read that right.

But the second pass reads exactly the same as the first.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He technically had to exist without my help for only a single business day, and this prick is firing me?

I click reply and draft a strongly worded email, reminding him that early termination of our contract doesn’t mean I don’t get paid. I add exactly how much it will cost him to get out of this deal, thinking he will quit with the temper tantrum and we can move on.

But, for the first time ever, he responds immediately. And he does it with a single word.