“She had a headache,” Kade said. “She went home and went to bed.”
“And he was in a rush,” Rae said. “We only publish Wednesdays and Saturdays. I’m sure Bruce convinced him to run with it—and threatened to go to the Manchester paper with the story if he didn’t.”
“The perfect storm.” Brady said. “Bruce knew exactly what he was doing. The question is, why now?”
“What do you mean?” Kade shifted his attention to the man. “He’ll do anything to halt progress.”
“I know that.” Brady glanced at his wife, leaned forward. “Bruce came to me weeks ago asking me to help him learn more about Ginny and your investor from Massachusetts. I refused, of course. We don’t investigate people in America. We don’t dig into private lives—or even public figures’ lives—in hopes of finding a crime. Our job in law enforcement is to investigate crimes. I told him that. I think he thought, since my family’s been here forever, that I’d want to stop you like he does.”
“Do you?”
Brady’s smirk answered the question before he spoke. “I’ll admit, I wish Nutfield would stop growing so fast. I like the idea of it staying hidden from the world, but that’s not an option. Houses are being built, people are moving in, tourists are finding us. So our job”—he nodded toward Kade—“your job as a developer is to find a way to bring growth that’ll be good for the town. What you’re doing will be good for Nutfield.”
“The point is,” Rae said, “we’re with you.”
“Even if we weren’t,” Brady added, “it’s not okay for one citizen to… to—”
“To excoriate another citizen for his own personal gain,” Rae said.
“Not the word I’d have used.” Brady gave his wife a quick smile. “Mostly because I have no idea how to spell it.”
Kade hadn’t been sure about coming here, but now he knew this had been the right decision. “Thank you both. Even if you can’t help, I appreciate your support.”
Rae stood. “I’ll call Ginny to see if I can make an appointment with her. Maybe she’ll answer this time.”
“Thank you.” Kade stood as well, but Brady didn’t.
“I have a couple of questions for you,” he said.
Kade sat back down.
After Rae had stepped into the other room, Brady clasped his hands and rested his forearms on his knees. “Has there been any more trouble at Ginny’s house? Any more signs of intruders?”
“No. Nothing.”
Brady narrowed his eyes. “People who own strip clubs aren’t the most upstanding citizens.”
“Ginny is not her parents.”
“We’ve already covered that ground.” Again, Brady sounded as impartial and relaxed as he ever did. “I just wonder if maybe the people who broke into her house back in April are connected to her parents’ business.”
“Oh.” Kade looked at the floor, unsure how much he should tell Brady of what he and Ginny had uncovered. The debate in his head was short, though. “It’s not my story to tell.”
“There is a story, though.”
“She’s already angry with me. I can’t risk—”
“You think telling the police the truth in order to protect her is a risk?”
An excellent point. And even if she never forgave him, he needed to keep her safe. “I don’t know any details, but let’s just say, you’re right about her parents. They were far from upstanding citizens.”
Rae stepped out of the kitchen. “Still no answer.” She focused on Brady. “You mind if I go over there to talk to her in person?”
“Not at all. The kids have any plans today?”
“Nope. They’ll probably need lunch pretty soon.”
“I can manage that.”
After Rae left, Brady said, “So maybe it’s all related.”
Kade struggled to catch his meaning. “What all?”
“The break in at her house, the timing of the article.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Collier has been trying to find dirt on your girlfriend since April. If he’d known, he’d have gotten that article out there weeks ago, long before you broke ground.”
“On the other hand, if the investors pull out now, he’ll destroy me.” Kade tried not to think about that, though it hadn’t been far from his mind. “I’ve sunk every penny I have into this project, not to mention years of work. If development stops, I’ll have no way to pay back the loans I’ve taken out. I’ll be ruined.”
Brady was shaking his head. “I know Collier seems vindictive, but I don’t think he is. He thinks he’s protecting Nutfield, and that’s all this is about.” A beat passed before he focused on Kade again. “I think, if he’d had this information weeks ago, he’d have released it. Say what you want about Rae’s editor, but there’ve been a lot of favorable articles in the Gazette about Clearwater Heights. Your project has only gained momentum.”
“So Bruce just got the information,” Kade said.
“But why? The kinds of businesses her parents owned wouldn’t be that hard to find, unless someone was trying to keep it hidden. And if so, then how did he find it at all? Would he have spent the money to hire an investigator? And if the information hadn’t been hidden, then why didn’t Collier find it weeks ago?”
“Maybe it’s just dumb luck.”
“Maybe.” Brady held his gaze. “But I wouldn’t bet on it.”
“So what does that mean?”
Brady shrugged. “I don’t know, but with the break-in, with the fact that her parents weren’t model citizens, and with this information coming out now, I’m worried there are bigger forces at play here. And if we don’t know what they are, then we can’t fight them.”
Kade thought of Ginny, how he’d left her home alone. And Rae hadn’t been able to reach her. “You’re saying Ginny could be in danger?”
Brady’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s your first thought, that Ginny might be in danger? Not that someone’s plotting against you and trying to ruin you?”
There was that, too, but... “She’s more important to me than any real estate development.”
Brady’s smile was knowing and fleeting. “See if you can get her to talk to me.”
“First, I’ll have to get her to talk to me.”
Chapter Thirteen
Ginny sat on the floor of her living room surrounded by boxes.
Boxes of every size and shape. Some of them she’d brought with her from California. Most of them she’d collected from clients who’d unpacked them and moved into their new homes. She usually passed them along to other clients who were selling their houses, but lately, she’d had a lot more boxes incoming than outgoing. Maybe that Higher Power she wanted so much to believe in knew she’d need them. Or maybe, on some level, she’d known.
Now that she looked at them, she realized the truth. She’d never really believed this could be home. She’d always known that, eventually, she’d have to leave.
As soon as she’d sent Kade away that morning, she’d grabbed as many boxes from her garage as she could handle and carried them into the house.
Then, she’d painstakingly unfolded them and taped them open. She’d continued that pattern until every single box was open and stacked—some four and five high—in her living room.
And now she sat in the middle of them, legs folded, and looked at the ugly brown walls all around her.
She should be packing, but she couldn’t seem to make herself move.
Why, why had she let herself hope? When would she learn she didn’t get to have a home? Dorothy’s mantra in Oz had been There’s no place like home. At least Dorothy had known a home. And she’d even come to appreciate it, that black-and-white Kansas world. Ginny’s mantra had always been and, apparently, would always be, There’s no such thing as home.
Home was a place where a person felt loved and valued and protected and trusted. Ginny had never known such a place. Nutfield was as close as she’d gotten.
Probably as close as she’d e
ver get.
She pulled a blanket from her couch, a soft, fuzzy thing she used in the winter and kept out for show in the summer. She curled on the floor beneath it.
Maybe after a nap, she’d have the energy to pack. Maybe, if she focused, she could be on the road by Monday. She’d rent a U-Haul trailer. Whatever she couldn’t haul herself, she’d sell with the house. What difference would it make? It was mostly new, anyway. It wasn’t as if she’d grown attached to the things she’d surrounded herself with.
It was the people she’d miss.
Someone knocked on the front door, but she didn’t move.
They rang the bell, and the sound had her covering her ears. She couldn’t handle that noise right now.
Whoever it was rang again, then banged. Probably Kade. She wasn’t talking to him.
The thought of him brought tears to her eyes, as if she hadn’t cried enough for that man today.
How humiliated she’d been that morning when her client had called to fire her. And to share the juicy tidbit that Kade was denying they were in a relationship.
She’d disconnected from the client and dissolved into stomach-clenching sobs.
More pounding on the door, then a woman’s voice. “Ginny, open the door. It’s Rae.”
Hope, that useless bubbling thing she never could quite suppress, rose like fizz from a jostled can of Coke.
Ginny headed toward the door. If she had half a brain, she wouldn’t open it, she wouldn’t allow herself to believe in anything. But she’d never been the smart one.
She pulled the door open. Rae Thomas stood on her porch.
Rae tried the screen, but it was locked. “I’m coming in.”
Ginny unlocked it.
Rae passed her, walked into the living room, and stared at the boxes. “What are you doing?”
Ginny said nothing, and Rae peeked into a few. “They’re empty. Are they all empty?”
She nodded. “I was packing.”
Rae crossed back to where Ginny stood and rested a hand on her arm. “You can’t leave.”
I have to. But she didn’t want to.
Could she make a living here if the whole town hated her?
Except Rae was here, so maybe one person didn’t hate her. Jack and Harper were on her side. Red would never reject her. Four people. And Kade…
He’d denied she was his girlfriend.
She wouldn’t think about Kade.
Rae took Ginny in her arms. “You’re not running away. We won’t let you.”
Ginny stepped back. “Who’s we?”
“Brady and I, of course. And I talked to Sam earlier. She would have come with me, but the baby’s sick. I can get her over here if you need more convincing.”
“I don’t want to be any trouble.”
Rae sighed. “You’re not trouble, Ginny. You’re a friend. The rest of the ladies from Bible study will stand by you. Marisa, Kelsey, Harper… You have to trust your friends to have your back.”
Ginny wasn’t sure what to say, so she just nodded. She so desperately wanted to stay. Hadn’t she told herself she would fight for this home?
The boxes proved she hadn’t won that battle yet. Wasn’t sure she had what it would take.
Rae led her to the dining room and sat at the table. “Let’s talk.”
“You want something to drink?” Ginny asked. “You hungry?”
“Just sit, please.”
When Ginny did, Rae said, “I want to interview you. I talked to my editor on the way over, and he’s given me the okay to do an article on you, to get your side of the story.”
“There is no story. I’m just… I haven’t done anything wrong. My parents were… They owned those places. I didn’t even know about them before. I mean, I found out about one not long before my dad died, but the rest… Sheesh, at this point, it seems like this town knows more about my past than I do.”
Rae reached into her gigantic purse and pulled out a notepad and pen. “We don’t know anything. We only know what Bruce learned. And I don’t care about your parents. I want to do a story on you.”
Ginny glanced at the paper and pen. “I’m not that interesting.”
Rae smiled. “Everyone has a story, Ginny. And everyone’s story is fascinating in its own way. I want to know yours, and thanks to Bruce Collier, so do the people of Nutfield.”
Ginny glanced at the walls of boxes in the next room. She would probably still need to leave, but at least she could defend herself first. Who knew? Maybe God would perform a miracle.
She swallowed, nodded. “What do you want to know?”
Ginny answered Rae’s questions for an hour. At first, she was reluctant, unsure how much to share. Her parents never outright told her not to tell anybody about their lifestyle, about all their moves from place to place, about the fact that they usually left in the middle of the night with nothing but what they could fit in the vehicle. They never told Ginny not to tell classmates or teachers or friends how many different schools she’d attended, how sometimes she didn’t attend school at all. Ginny’s parents had never needed to remind her to keep quiet about how they’d eat beans and rice for weeks, and then suddenly have the money for steak—usually enjoyed at some truck stop on the road between one temporary home and the next.
They’d never had to tell Ginny to keep quiet. But the unspoken rule might as well have been painted like graffiti on the outside of their van.
When the family had moved to San Francisco and her parents had settled down, started the restaurants, and bought the house, even then Ginny never told the truth about her past. When she enrolled in high school in California, when her parents were settled and seemed legitimate, she still kept quiet.
Only in the last year had she started to tell people. But even the version of her past that she’d shared with Kade on their first date had been whitewashed.
In retrospect, she could admit the truth. She’d been ashamed. Part of her still was. And there was still that unspoken rule that boomed through her consciousness right now.
Keep your mouth shut.
All those years, she’d complied to protect herself and to protect her family.
But there was nobody left to protect. Kathryn had disappeared. Mom had moved to who knew where, and Daddy was dead.
What would telling the truth hurt?
Besides, Rae was an excellent interviewer. Even when Ginny might have protected herself, protected her family, Rae managed to pull the truth out of her.
The only thing Ginny didn’t share was the little she knew about her parents laundering money. She had no direct knowledge of that, only theories and conjecture. And that had nothing to do with what was going on right now.
So Ginny talked, and Rae took notes and asked questions. Every once in a while, she received and sent text messages, but Ginny understood that. The woman was a mother. She probably had other things to do on a Saturday than spend the day with Ginny.
They’d been at it more than an hour when a knock sounded at the door.
Ginny pushed back in her chair, but Rae was faster. “I’ll get it.”
Ginny called after her, “I don’t want to talk to Kade,” while she wiped her tears and tried to make herself presentable.
“I know,” Rae called back.
A moment later, Ginny heard voices—Rae and Brady and… Kade.
She stepped into the foyer, crossed her arms, and leveled a look at Rae. “I just said—”
“I know.” Rae closed the distance between them and whispered in Ginny’s ear. “Just hear him out, okay?”
“Why should I?”
Rae shrugged and took her husband’s hand. Ginny watched them as they walked down the hall and into the dining room. Then she turned to face the man in the doorway.
The look he gave her… if he’d had a hat, it would have been in his hands.
She was exhausted from digging into her past, emotionally wrung out from the events of the morning. She didn’t have the energy to deal with Kade. “Why
are you here?”
“I did say you weren’t my girlfriend. What your client didn’t hear was what I said after—that you’re more than just a girlfriend. That I care very deeply for you. That I hope someday we’ll be much more than just dating.”
Oh. Could that be true?
Ginny wanted to believe him. With everything in her, she wanted to believe him. But her client’s words still rang in her ears. Even he doesn’t believe in you.
Kade took one step forward. “I lost my biggest investor today and a few of my smaller ones. It’s more than even my family could raise. Unless some miracle occurs, I’m going to lose everything. But I’m not going to lose you.”
“Just tell them all we’re not together anymore. Then I’m sure—”
“No.” His lips flattened in a line. “I won’t do that. I had no intention of distancing myself from you, as you put it. And I won’t now. If I don’t have the development to focus on, I’ll have nothing better to do than pester you until you take me back.”
“That’s not logical, Kade. Just… just build the country club. I’ll be fine.”
He closed the distance between them and took her hands. “I won’t be fine, Ginny. I won’t be fine without you. You’re the reason I’ve gotten this far.” He swallowed, closed his eyes. When he opened them, he said, “I love you, Ginny Lamont. Nothing matters to me as much as you do.”
She tried to clear the emotion from her throat. His words were like soothing aloe on a sunburn. To know he loved her, to know he would lose everything for her… She’d heard of that kind of love. She’d even seen glimpses of it in other families. But she’d never experienced it.
It was a sacrificial love. And though she’d never felt it from another person, she thought she understood it. Which was why she stepped back until she bumped into the wall. Because right now, she was the one who needed to sacrifice. She should let Kade go so he could pursue his dream. “I’ll ruin your life.”
“What happened today is not your fault. If anything, I’m ruining yours. Bruce only targeted you because of me.”
“My past is my past. I can’t fix it or change it.”
Legacy Rejected Page 17
