Meg flopped back and rubbed a palm over her eyes and cheek. “You knew him, didn’t you.” It was not a question.
“I did not know William Riley!”
“But you had some sort of connection to him, right? I can hear it in your voice.”
“I am only going to say this one more time, Meghan. Some things are better left buried.”
“Even if it means the loss of my job?”
A sad sound, like a cry, came through the phone line. “Please stop this. You haven’t lost your job—you wouldn’t. They love you there at that hotel.”
Meg’s gaze dropped to the woven pattern of her blouse. She still had a hard time believing she would not be going back to the inn. “I was forced out, Mama,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“But William promised you’d be—”
“What? Mom? How can he promise you anything if you don’t know him?”
“I promised him I’d never say a word!” She let out a harsh cry. “It was our special bond. No, I did not know him in person—but he promised me that you would have a job at the inns as long as you wanted it!”
Meg’s eyes closed at this news, so unexpected. “You rarely visited me. When would you have had the chance to speak with William?”
“It was years ago, when you first started working there. You were a baby when you left home—a baby.”
“Seventeen is hardly a baby.”
“I should not have let you leave, but you were headstrong and you had the money, so I did not fight you. After you got that job at the inn, I was happy for you. I was also very scared, so I called him.”
“You called William?”
“Yes. I read an article on the Internet about how he had bought that old hotel and was trying to revitalize it. He had a nice face so I called him and thanked him for hiring you.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No. I am not kidding. Why do you think I’m kidding?”
“But this doesn’t explain the money.”
“I know, I know. You see, William doted on you. He asked me all kinds of questions—I did not expect so many questions! He asked about your father, and when he learned how he’d died, he expressed such sympathy for you. What a nice man. He said he sometimes caught you looking sad and that this explained it.”
Meg’s mind turned this news over. Everything about this call, about what her mother was saying, made no sense. If William and her mother had talked like this, why wouldn’t she have known about it?
“So … he gave you money because you, what, birthed me?”
“Don’t be vulgar, Meghan.” She huffed a heavy sigh. “Fine. I will tell you why William sent me checks back then, but only because you are hysterical right now.”
Meg snapped a “why me” look to the ceiling.
“When he learned that your Uncle Greg had become addicted to drugs after he … he caused that awful accident and that he had no money to pay for his rehabilitation, he offered to help. William was a soft-hearted man.”
Her mother had been the big sister, always rallying around her little brother and his needs. She had no extra money of her own, at least not until she remarried years later, so Meg had been sending what she could. Suddenly one day, her mother, without explanation, told her to stop. “So, this is how you were able to pay for his rehab?”
“Yes. He said that he would send me the amount you were giving me each month, but I had to promise never, ever to tell you about it. He gave far beyond what you had been sending me.”
“Dear William,” she said aloud. “And then he encouraged me to go to night school.”
“And I was always so proud of you for using your extra money in that way.” She paused, as if reflecting. “William told me that he wanted to take you under his wing, that you were like a daughter to him. Said you were the daughter he never had.”
Or had not yet found? Her nose prickled with rising emotion. She remembered walking into Sea Glass Inn her first day on the coast. She had worn her favorite skirt—black, A-line, just above the knees. Her hands shook as she handed her resume to the receptionist in the Human Resources office. When she was told Mr. Riley wanted to meet her right then and there, her mouth went dry, her hands perspired. If she’d had time to think about applying for the Executive Assistant position, she might not have showed. The idea was a bold one, even to her thinking. He interviewed her and hired her all in one day.
What she had always considered a random first stop, suddenly felt anything but accidental.
She exhaled. “I never knew that Uncle Greg caused the accident he was in,” she said. “What happened? Is this the one that started his addiction?”
“You were a young child, Meg. You did not understand what was going on around you.” Her mother’s voice sounded small, like a child’s. “I would prefer we not relive that terrible time.”
Relive this terrible time … like all that has occurred in the last twenty-four hours? Add to that, now her mother had essentially confirmed a financial arrangement with William that she never knew about. Could a brain handle such tumult in so short of time?
Her mind spun with bits of memory. Relive this terrible time … relive ...
Her mother’s tears.
A house full of tall people. Adults everywhere.
Her own cries for her father …
A welling reached her eyes. “Mother, I have to ask you something. And I need you to tell me the truth. Please, no more hedging.” She didn’t wait for her mother to respond. “Was Uncle Greg alone when he had his accident?”
Her mother’s voice shrank to a whisper. “No.”
Oh no. Tears dropped one by one from Meg’s eyes and dripped down her cheeks. “Who was with him?”
Quiet.
“Mother, who?”
Her mother’s sobs filled the line. “Your father.”
Chapter 21
“Mr. Riley, were we expecting you?” Janet’s fingers clicked across her computer keyboard, her eyes scanning for his reservation.
“You won’t find me in the system. I decided to come in on the spur of the moment.”
One of the desk manager’s eyebrows rose. “A surprise inspection?”
“Don’t worry. You’ve passed.”
The relief he thought he’d see on her face never materialized. “You are fortunate to have made it in ahead of the storm.”
He glanced out a lobby window, taking in the growing buildup of greys—battleship to charcoal. “Dark, but calm.”
“It always is ahead of the storm. Now, we are completely booked.” She tapped a few more keys on her keyboard. “But I’m checking to see if any of our unguaranteed reservations have missed the six-o’clock deadline.”
“What are you doing here?” Pepper’s unmistakable screech invaded the reception area.
He turned. “Good evening to you too, Ms. Riley.”
She reached across the desk to still Janet’s furious typing. “There is no room at the inn.”
Jackson leaned against the counter and scrutinized her. “Even for your brother?”
“Sorry. You are not Jesus.”
“As you may recall, there was no room for him either. Or perhaps you are suggesting I stay in the hotel’s barn?”
He detected hidden laughter from Janet, who for her part kept her head down and her fingers clacking away.
“What is it you want, Jackson?” Pepper drilled those black nails of hers on the front desk. “As you can see, we are very busy.”
I can see that Janet is very busy … He nodded once. “I thought we could do a site tour together. I would like to assess the condition of Sea Castle. Perhaps the financial team I am working with would be willing to increase their investment if we presented them with a solid proposal for improvement.”
The harsh lines of her face softened, her eyes less narrowed. No doubt about it. He had her the moment he suggested more money could be forthcoming.
He continued, “I will need you to provide the financial da
ta for the proposal. And for you to do whatever you need to do to make us look solid, of course.”
“Of course,” she snapped.
Janet’s hands stopped moving. She looked up, her expression showing relief. “I found one.” She typed a few more strokes, opened a draw, and slid a key to him.
He picked up the key, tossed it in the air, and caught it again. “Thank you much, Janet. You’re a miracle worker.”
Pepper’s glower returned. “You are lucky this time.”
Janet cleared her throat, clearly unsure whether to interrupt their tête-à-tête. “Shall I have Robert take your things to your room for you?”
“Not this time, but thank you.” He turned to Pepper. “I’ll run upstairs to freshen up and meet you back here in thirty for dinner.”
She crossed her arms. “How do you know if I am free?”
He shrugged. “You moved here, what, a day or two ago? Who could you possibly know in town yet?” He swung a look at Janet. “Other than Janet, that is. Were you two planning to have dinner?”
Pepper’s flat line of a mouth smirked. “You have lost your mind.”
He picked up his bag and pointed at her. “Thirty minutes.”
* * *
In his room, he washed up, hung his clothes, and changed his rumpled shirt. He’d been stalling. Domenic had promised to hunt down a certified copy of Sophia’s birth certificate. There should have been one found among William’s things, but to his knowledge, none had ever been seen.
His phone rang. Sophia’s number. “Hello. This is Jackson.”
“It is me.”
His countenance lifted. He was beginning to recognize her voice, the sound of it like family. “It is the middle of the night there. What are you doing up?” If he were being lied to again, he could not bear it.
“I could not sleep. I wanted to tell you that I signed an affidavit swearing who I am. It will help you with the authorities when you confront my sister. I will email it to you, but is that safe to do?”
Breaking into Pepper’s account had been as easy as making a phone call. To the right person, that is. Alex would not betray him. He felt sure of it. Of course, he had been sure of Pepper’s identity too …
“Send it to my personal account.” He gave her the address. “Any word from Domenic?”
“I spoke to him, yes. He helped me find out where I could obtain the certificate. It has been ordered and expedited. You should have it shortly.”
“Beautiful.” He glanced at his phone screen. “I have to go. Pepper—I mean, Gia—is sending me angry texts and I am late for dinner.”
“You are confronting her now?”
“Not exactly. I am trying to keep her here until I have enough evidence gathered to confront her.”
“Ah, but you have already said you have proof she is stealing from you, yes? Is it not enough?”
“It is complicated, Sophia. We are not in California where the fraud occurred.”
She sighed. “This is all such terrible news. Gia has made such chaos of your life. Of mine too.”
Her sorrow twisted something inside him. “This will be all over soon, Sophia. I promise.”
He stepped out the door, the promise he had just made to his sister still lingering on his lips.
* * *
Meg had slept in her clothes. She awoke, expecting to see daylight spilling through her window. Instead, the sky had opened during the night and unleashed itself on the beach. In unison, a row of palms bent in an arc, as if pointing the way out. Her phone dinged and she let go of the heavy drape.
Alert: Flight cancelled. Contact airline.
She glanced again at the window, her mind not far away from her mother’s hurricane comment. Would a little rain cancel her flight? She ran her thumb over her touch screen. The airline’s website gave her little more to go on. Her flight had been cancelled, as well as all others for that day. The next day’s flights were temporarily suspended as well. She clicked over to weather news: TROPICAL STORM BUILDING.
Could this “vacation” get any worse?
Her thumb hovered over the voicemail icon. She swallowed. She had never listened to Jackson’s message from a few nights back. No real reason to keep it now. She began to swipe it away, intent on deleting it before hearing his voice would cause her further heartbreak, when she noticed the time he had called. Middle of the night?
She played the message. Meg, I miss you. His voice had broken when he said it. I can’t wait for you to get back.
Confused, she played it again. How could this be? She spoke to him a few hours later and the tone of his voice had changed. He’d sounded annoyed at first, then downright tired of her. It was as if he wanted her out of the way.
Was his middle-of-the night call just a momentary lapse? Just another swing of the pendulum that too often characterized their relationship?
“I miss you too, Jackson.” A tear slid from her eye. “But I’m so, so angry with you right now.”
She wiped her eyes with the back of a hand, fighting the urge to fully grieve. Last night’s call with her mom unraveled the mystery of the checks from William. Up until then, she believed that Pepper had been trying to pry Jackson and her apart with a lie. A bitter laugh escaped her. Pepper had known more about William’s interaction with her mother than she had.
But even though her assertions were true, why had Pepper—an imposter—bothered to accuse Meg at all? Wouldn’t it have been easier for her to keep her cover if she were to lay low and not make any waves at all?
An ominous cloud darkened her thoughts. Could it be that Pepper had been trying to throw Jackson—and maybe Meg herself—off another trail? But what?
She had intimated that Meg had somehow been involved with financial improprieties—Meg had heard her screaming on the other end of Jackson’s calls. She’d uncovered and blasted information about William writing checks to Meg’s mother. Tension tiptoed up Meg’s spine. She straightened. The day Pepper had noticed her on the phone with Domenic, she shrieked something about “the money train stopping” for her.
Was Riley Holdings in trouble financially? Maybe this was Jackson’s reason for not implementing Meg’s proposals for the spa and other upgrades. He had been meeting with investors, and though she had thought this to be a fairly straightforward business move, she realized with a sinking in her gut that the company must be in trouble.
Pepper would certainly know that Meg had nothing to do with a financial shortfall. Jackson had told her once that Pepper had a “bird’s-eye view” of the company’s expenditures. So if she knew that Meg had no part in the company’s financial problems, then it stood to reason that she also knew who—or what—had caused them.
* * *
Jackson managed to keep his tone cordial and to fight his uncanny desire to lunge across the table and throttle the woman who sat across from him, lying. Her talent far surpassed his imagination. For the past twenty minutes, she had told him tale after tale, each one less believable than the one before it. Tales of loneliness as an only child, of missing the father she never knew, and now, of her talents as a seamstress.
“The clothes I made by my own hand were more beautiful than the rags that the stores sell. They were of marketable quality,” she bragged.
“I suppose you still sew in your spare time,” he said.
“To ever pick up a needle again would be to bruise my own soul.” Her voice dripped with melodrama. “Oh no, no, no. I would feel like a pauper, like when I was a child. I could not do it.”
He stilled his eyes so in a knee-jerk reaction they wouldn’t roll. A couple of men walked in and took a seat at the table next to theirs. He worked to hide a wince. This café was long overdue for a rehab. Just one of the many projects that had gone dormant as Pepper had played her games with their finances.
“Let’s talk about the new proposal that I told you about.”
Pepper nodded, her eyes unsettled.
“Did you hear what I said?”
She
zeroed in on him. “I am not deaf.”
He looked away rather than let her see the disgust in his eyes, his gaze falling on the men one table over. A couple of surfer dudes, one of them more like an aging wrestler. They both wore long sleeves over their board shorts, which made him want to turn down the a/c temperature.
“What did you want to propose?”
He dragged his gaze back to her. “For one, we need to upgrade this café. I would also like to add full food service to the poolside bar, in season.”
She shifted. “We will need to ask for more money then.”
He nodded, his lips pursed before speaking. “Exactly.”
Double doors burst open and Lucky approached their table. “I just heard Meg’s not coming.”
Jackson’s chest constricted. “She had something to attend to in California.”
Pepper shrank back. “Your girlfriend was coming here? Today? We have no room for her—unless, of course, she will be sharing your bed.”
Jackson seethed.
Lucky glanced from Pepper to Jackson, her skin tinged pink. “Didn’t know you were seeing each other.” She shrugged. “None of my business but she had asked for her own room.”
Pepper’s laugh sounded like gravel ground into earth.
Jackson wagged his head. “Don’t believe everything you hear, Lucky.”
“Well, shoot.” Lucky flopped into a chair across from them. “I wanted to tell her all about a tour coming through the hotel next month. Oh well. Can’t believe she came all the way here and then decided to leave. Hope she was able to get a plane out okay. My brother’s a pilot and he said that most of them are grounded due to the storm.”
He hadn’t thought of that and a prickle of concern seized him.
Lucky continued, “Plus, I was kinda hoping to hear about her trip to Italy, too. I’ve always wanted to go there and meet some Italian hunk who’d feed me olives and wine.” She giggled.
Pepper’s wretched grin slipped from her face. “Italy?”
Jackson tipped his head, observing the imposter. Her hostile countenance was changing before him. She twisted her hands in her lap and those eyes began to flit around again, as if she were searching for an exit.
Runaway Tide Page 19
