Strands of Truth

by Colleen Coble

  Though he wanted to rush to his dad’s room, he stopped to talk to her. “Do you know what happened? He was improving enough that I thought I would get to take him home soon.”

  Compassion filled her hazel eyes. “I have no idea. His alarm was beeping for a new IV bag, and I went to change it. I found him unresponsive and called for help. We got his heart started again, but he’s in rough shape. We’re waiting for the results of his blood work. His condition is fragile.”

  Ridge’s gut clenched. He had a sinking feeling his dad was going to die. “Can I see him?”

  “For just a moment.”

  He hurried down to his dad’s room. The door stood open, and as he neared, he heard the sound of machines beeping and breathing for him. Ridge drew in a deep breath before he stepped to Dad’s bedside. His color was pasty and he was as still as death.

  He wasn’t ready to lose his dad. What could he do? He’d been praying constantly since the call came, but this was so much worse than he’d been expecting.

  His father’s forehead was cool when he touched it. “Dad?”

  No flicker of eyelids, nothing to indicate his father heard his voice. Ridge dropped his hand back to his side. Willow needed to know, too, but he didn’t think he could get through the phone call without breaking down. He pulled a chair closer to his father’s bed, then dropped into it.

  “Ridge?”

  He blinked and looked up into Harper’s worried face. He reached up and touched a wisp of red hair that had fallen out of her ponytail. “Harper?”

  He was tired clear to the bone and struggled to rise. All the stress was catching up with him.

  She took his arm. “I came as soon as I got your message. How is he?”

  “Totally unresponsive. I think I fell asleep for a while. What time is it?”

  “About six.”

  “He’s in a bad way, Harper.” He choked out the sentence. “I need to call Willow, but I don’t want to tell her.”

  “You want me to call her?”

  He shook his head. “It’s my responsibility.”

  And he’d do it once he could think clearly. He fixed his gaze on his father. Dad was all that mattered to him. “It would probably be best for Dad if you’re not here when Willow arrives. I don’t want him to overhear any kind of raised voices, and I don’t know how she’ll react if you’re here.”

  A flicker of hurt passed over her face, but she nodded. “Call me if you need me. I’ll be at the coffee shop with Josh and Sara.”

  He touched her arm. “I will. Thanks for coming. I’ll keep you posted.” He watched her leave. This was for her own good. Willow and his mother could be cruel.

  He clasped his dad’s hand. “Dad, can you hear me?” There was still no response, so he went back to his chair.

  A doctor entered the room, but Ridge couldn’t recall his name right now. He wobbled to his feet. “Doctor.”

  The doctor didn’t smile and went directly to check Dad’s monitors. “We’re not sure what happened overnight, Mr. Jackson. Your father seems to have had a massive heart attack.”

  “I-Is he going to pull through?” Ridge managed to ask.

  “I wish I could say yes, but it’s too soon to know.” The doctor patted Ridge on the shoulder. “I’ll do the best I can.”

  Which was doctor-speak for all that could save his dad was prayer. Ridge wheeled on his heels to go to the chapel.

  21

  Ridge heard his mother’s commanding tones in the hospital before he saw her. She had one of those loud voices that carried throughout an auditorium—and in this case down the hallway. Why had she come? He’d only called Willow. He stopped short and contemplated turning tail, but his sister was standing outside their father’s door and saw him before he could skedaddle.

  Willow didn’t match her name. She was barely five feet tall and softly rounded. Men wanted to take care of her, but the instant some guy thought he could treat her like a fragile doll, they found themselves thrust out of her apartment with the door slammed and locked before they knew what was happening. She’d been engaged three times as far as Ridge knew. He didn’t think she would ever find a guy who measured up to her exacting standards.

  She shot him an annoyed look from her green eyes and slipped her phone back into her purse. “Ridge, there you are. I was just texting you to ask where you were.”

  She wore a lace top over designer jeans and red heels. The red Coach purse—the only brand she ever carried—slung over her shoulder was nearly as wide as she was. Her blonde hair was a neat cap with the fringes grazing her jawline. She was a walking advertisement for high class and money—an image she worked hard to project.

  Her gaze skimmed over him, and her expression registered approval. He’d evidently dressed up enough to please her. “You saw Dad? Any change?”

  She shook her head. “He’s the same. The doctor said there’s no brain activity. I’m not sure he’s going to wake up. Mom wants to talk to you about turning off the machines.”

  He stiffened. “When was the doctor here? I don’t believe there’s no brain activity. And even if there isn’t, I’m not turning off the machines. I won’t kill my own father.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I told Mom you’d be difficult.”

  “It’s none of her business. She divorced us and walked away.” He stalked to the door of his father’s room and peered in at his mother, who was continuing to harangue the nurse.

  “All these machines are ridiculous. Oliver would never want to live like this.”

  “That’s not my call, ma’am.” The nurse adjusted the drip on his IV line, then darted for the door.

  As she passed, Ridge caught a glimpse of fear in her eyes. He pressed his lips together. “Mom, Willow said you wanted to talk to me. There’s an empty waiting room down the hall. Let’s go there. I don’t want to disturb Dad.”

  “He’s beyond any disturbance, Ridge.” She brushed past him, the scent of Dior wafting in her wake.

  Her red high heels clattered on the tile as she stalked down the hall to the waiting room, Willow right behind her. Even though Mom was fifty-five, she was as slim as a girl. Not a glimmer of gray was allowed to remain in her hair, and her blonde hair was short and spiky like a punk rocker’s. It suited her though, and she had a constant stream of men asking her out.

  He sighed and followed Willow into the room. His mother whirled around by the window looking out into the parking lot. Willow went to join her, and they stared at him with identical defiant expressions.

  So it was going to be war—two against one. He folded his arms across his chest. “I’m not turning off Dad’s life support. I have power of attorney over his medical decisions, and there’s no way I’ll do that, so save your breath.”

  His mother lifted a perfectly shaped brow. “Have you spoken with the doctor?”

  “Earlier this morning. I haven’t heard anything about no brain activity.”

  “He was in fifteen minutes ago.” Mom flicked her fingers as though shooing away a pesky fly. “Oliver always said he didn’t want to be kept alive by machines. He wanted to donate his organs.”

  “He changed his mind and signed a living will. He had heard some horror stories about organ donation and didn’t want to do that any longer.”

  Surprise hit her eyes. How was she going to deal with that? And why did she care what happened to Dad? She’d get nothing from his estate. His gaze landed on Willow. But she probably expected to receive half. She’d be surprised when the will was read someday.

  His mother wet her lips. “I find that hard to believe.”

  He shrugged. “I have a copy if you want to see it. We discussed this at length.” Should he tell Willow she wouldn’t be receiving what she thought? No, now wasn’t the time. This felt like they were vultures hunched around his father’s bed, waiting for their prey to die. It was odd, distressful, and repugnant.

  An alarm blared down the hall, and two nurses and a female doctor rushed past the open door. He whirl
ed. “That sounds like Dad’s room.” He raced after the medical personnel as they disappeared into his father’s room. He knew the drill and stayed outside the room. His mother tried to duck past his arm blocking the doorway, but he stopped her. His gut clenched and all he could do was pray.

  They worked on Dad for what seemed like hours before the doctor said, “I’m going to call it. Time?”

  “Ten-ten,” one of the nurses said.

  The other nurse caught a glimpse of them in the doorway and touched the doctor’s arm. They whispered together for a few moments, and then she drew the privacy curtain around the bed.

  The doctor came toward them. “I’m sorry, Ridge. I’m not sure what happened. Your dad’s heart stopped suddenly. I got some odd readings too.” She frowned. “I’d like to perform an autopsy since we aren’t sure what happened.”

  Gone. His dad was gone. A hole opened up inside him, but he fought falling into that dark chasm. His eyes burned, and he knuckled away the moisture. Not now.

  “An autopsy?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. Let me sign whatever you need.” He shook off his mother’s hand and brushed past Willow.

  Neither of them had ever loved Dad. They were no comfort, but he knew who would understand his pain.

  * * *

  He parked by the water, then ran his window down and cut the engine before he reached for his phone. At least he’d been able to eliminate one threat. He had more good news for his employer as well.

  He watched a dolphin play out in the water. “The old guy is dead.”

  “And the women?”

  He knew that question was coming, but he’d thought there would be at least one attaboy before the grilling began. “I’ve been driving by the Rice woman’s house. Her son pops in and out, so if I’m watching, I should be able to slip in while he’s gone and grab her. I might get the Taylor woman instead.”

  “I don’t care which one, just get the job done!”

  “I’d like my money for the old man.” He put as much grit in his voice as he could.

  “I’ll wire it today, but I’m keeping out the advance for taking care of the women. This should have been done a week ago. When it’s over, you’ll receive the full payment.”

  He couldn’t just sit in the car and take that, so he thrust open his door, got out, and paced through the weeds in front of his car. “That’s not fair.”

  “And it’s not fair that I’ve paid you for something you’ve failed to accomplish. I shouldn’t have trusted an amateur.”

  “You knew I’d deliver. And besides, I’m not an amateur any longer. I’ve done what you required, and I don’t expect to be treated like some kind of kid.”

  “You’re what—all of twenty-seven? You are still a kid. But maybe you’re right. You did dispose of the old man. Just bring me one of the women. Time is running out. And make sure that box of newspaper clippings disappears. It would be helpful if you get that investigator’s report as well. Besides, a robbery might throw off the police and make them think the attack on him had something to do with business or a personal matter.”

  “Not a problem.” He ended the call, got into his car, and started the engine.

  While the Rice woman would be the easiest mark, it might be problematic to abduct her by himself. He could get his brother to help. Allen loved Alex, too, and this was the only way to save his life.

  * * *

  Calm down. Ridge parked on the street and took a deep breath, then another, until the pressure eased in his chest. He blinked the moisture from his eyes and swallowed hard. His mother and sister had tried to talk to him, but knowing they wanted his dad dead made it impossible to be in the same room with them.

  Maybe he’d see things differently in a few days, but it was hard to feel his sister or mother cared about losing Dad. They only wanted his money.

  He scanned the tables out front of the coffee shop and didn’t see Harper at first. Then someone moved, and he spotted her bright hair. He shoved open his door and got out. His legs trembled a little. Shock evidently. He tried to smile as he strode her way but couldn’t. Her friends were with her, but he only had eyes for Harper.

  Her smile faltered, and her gaze searched his face. “What’s happened?”

  “I-It’s D-Dad.” He gritted his teeth and got hold of himself. “He’s dead, Harper.”

  Her eyes went wide, and the color drained from her face. “No,” she whispered. She rose and took a step toward him.

  He gave a jerky nod. “They’re performing an autopsy because it occurred so out of the blue. They got some odd readings too.”

  He didn’t know what to do with his hands so he started to stick them in his pockets, but she moved toward him and embraced him. Ridge wasn’t sure what happened, but he found himself nestled in her arms with his head tucked into the crook of her neck. She smelled of vanilla and sunshine, fresh air and sea salt. Emotion welled in his chest, but he stuffed it down.

  A man didn’t cry, not even when he lost his father.

  A few tears slipped out in spite of his resolve, but he managed to hold back the sob building in his throat.

  “I loved him too.” Her voice wobbled, thick with tears.

  He allowed himself to absorb the comfort she offered. This was why he’d wanted to come to her. She understood because she loved Dad too. Maybe the two of them were the only ones who did.

  He pulled away, and she let him go, then swiped at the tears streaming down her cheeks. Her beautiful turquoise eyes locked on to his face. “Did you call your sister?”

  He nodded. “She and Mom were there when he died. Neither of them shed a single tear.” He told her about the chat in the waiting room. “I heard the alarm going off.”

  “And the doctor has no idea what happened?”

  He shook his head. “His heart just stopped for no reason they could tell.”

  She touched his hand. “I’m sorry, Ridge, truly. He was so proud of you and loved you very much.”

  “He thought I should have done something more with my life.”

  “He might have said that, but he often showed me articles about research papers you’d written. He said he didn’t know where you got your brain, because he wasn’t that smart and neither was your mother.”

  He straightened. “He said that?”

  “Many times.” She gestured to the outside table. “Want to have a seat? We can grab coffee. We don’t have to work today.”

  Tears ran down her face again. Proof positive that he’d pegged her wrong all these years. Even after their truce, he’d wondered a little. No longer. Her expression was tragic when she pulled away from Sara and hugged Josh, then moved to stand by Ridge.

  “I need to go to Dad’s house.” He wanted to be around his father’s things, find a copy of his will, and dive in to the myriad details that went along with managing a death in the family.

  “I’ll go with you,” Harper said. “Are you hungry?”

  “I wouldn’t be able to eat anything right now.”

  “Me neither.”

  Ridge took Harper’s arm and steered her toward his truck. “Mom’s been texting me. She wants me to let Willow come by the house and take whatever she wants. I haven’t answered her.”

  Harper stopped and looked up at him with a troubled gaze. “Now would be a good time to make up with your mom and sister. I’m sure they cared more about Oliver than they’re showing.”

  “I don’t trust either of them. I don’t want them in the house until I’ve had a chance to go through things.” He drew in a deep breath. “I need to notify his attorney. He’s got the notarized copy of Dad’s will.”

  He helped her into the truck and shut the door behind her, then pulled out his phone as he went around to the driver’s side. He stood outside and called Mr. Booth, then left a message when he didn’t answer.

  Later would be soon enough for a return call. Ridge had plenty to do.

  22

  The ten-foot-high double doors close
d behind Harper, and Oliver’s mausoleum of a house seemed to swallow her up. She’d never felt this way before, but today all she felt was death. She’d stopped by her houseboat to retrieve Bear, and she set him on the floor to let him explore familiar territory.

  Ridge headed for the hallway off the entry that led to the office. “I think I’d better find Dad’s copy of his will first. There might be a list of small gifts attached. Then if Willow asks for anything, I’ll know if it’s okay. I don’t expect her to hold off her arrival long. You can come with me.”

  Harper followed him into the enormous office. The ceilings were tall in here, too, and floor-to-ceiling bookcases loomed from opposite walls. Books filled the dark oak shelves. A massive dark wood desk took up the space near the bay window that looked out onto a garden area filled with flowers. Fresh tears flooded her eyes when she saw the azalea garden. She’d given him most of the azaleas over the years she’d known him, and Oliver had loved them.

  She glanced at Ridge to see how he was doing. His set face was pale and his lips pressed into a firm line. He was powering through this like many guys, refusing to allow himself to feel and experience the grief. He’d probably hold it in until he was alone in his bed tonight.

  Ridge stepped to the bookshelf near the window on the right and fiddled with something she couldn’t see. A few moments later, he swung the hinged shelf open, revealing a recessed hidden space containing a massive safe.

  She peered past his shoulder. “I had no idea this was here.”

  “Not many people do. Maybe only I did, actually.” Ridge went inside and pressed several numbers on the keypad of the metal safe, then swung open the drawer. “It’s fireproof.”

  When he stooped to reach inside, she saw stacks of money, some files, and several envelopes. “You need help?”

  “I’m not going to touch the money. I just want to skim the papers and the envelopes.” He scooped them all up, then shut the safe door. It locked with a click behind him, and he walked to the desk and dumped the contents on top of the polished surface. “The will is probably in an envelope and labeled. Help me look if you don’t mind.”