Patrick chose his words carefully. They needed time to prepare for the proposal and he didn’t want to give away the reason for his visit to his parents’ house.
“Dad said that he planned to sue for custody of PJ if I don’t end our relationship.”
“What?” Lucy paled visibly.
“The fuck he did,” Beck growled. He looked down the hallway. “Sorry.”
Patrick shrugged. A little foul language in light of this situation wasn’t a concern. “He has it in his head that I’m gay. Beck, he thinks you and I are just going at it 24/7, when we’re not both screwing Lucy. He has it in his head that PJ is being exposed to sexual perversions.”
Lucy’s eyes grew big as saucers. “He thinks—Why?”
“I asked him where his information came from and he refused to tell me. Then in the next breath, he asks me why I never went out with Tabitha Lester after I split up with Elizabeth. So you can guess who his source was.”
Waldo chose that moment to jump down from the back of the couch into his lap, making him grunt when the cat’s heavy weight landed too close for comfort. He stroked his head and the old ginger tabby flopped on his back for a belly rub and purred loudly.
“Tabitha?”
“Evidently, she confessed her deep, undying devotion for me when last she spoke with my father. She seemed to think that she was a better choice for me. I guess in her fantasy we were married.” The thought made him shudder. “Anyway, she went to him, and told him this pack of lies. She was probably Roberta’s source for misinformation as well. I didn’t realize they all knew each other that well but he and Mom have evidently joined Tabitha’s church.”
“He’s going to sue you for custody?” Lucy asked, still looking shocked.
“Yes. Despite the fact that he’s not actually a blood relative.”
“He’d never succeed.”
Patrick shook his head. “Probably not but the scandal would hurt PJ, and the family, in the process. Then he’d have more to blame me for. My main concern is PJ and how it would affect him.”
“What will you do?” Lucy asked.
“I told him that I wouldn’t consider it. I’m an adult. We’re adults. And if he is concerned about PJ perhaps he should spend more time around him and get to know him a little better before he makes accusations about him being ‘scarred for life by our reprehensible behavior.’ He said he’d give me two weeks to think it over and then his lawyer would be in touch.”
Frowning, Lucy said, “Why did Tabitha tell him all of that? What did she hope to gain?”
Patrick shook his head but it was Beck that replied. “The way she looked at you at the trade and craft fair makes more sense to me now. I think she must’ve thought that after you got over Elizabeth betraying you that she’d just slide in and fill that position for her.”
Patrick groaned at the memory of his father’s words. “Dad said that Tabitha would make a perfect mother for PJ.”
“I feel like puking at the thought,” Beck replied.
Lucy made a little gagging noise and then grinned. “Val thought he recognized her this evening when she stopped on the sidewalk to lecture me and Val. She made an unkind remark and when I replied, he got a good look at her. And you should’ve seen her face. I’d swear she recognized him, too.”
Patrick rested his head against the back of the couch and smiled as Waldo got up and went to Lucy and rubbed his head against her breasts. “You know there has to be a story there somewhere.”
The smile faded from Lucy’s face as she stroked Waldo’s belly. “What will you do about your dad?”
“I’ll just talk to my lawyer. He’s not getting PJ.”
Lucy shook her head and so did Beck.
Lucy squeezed his hand and he gazed onto her earnest blue eyes. “If it came down to it, and by some chance he took this to court, Patrick, I’d understand if you had to call it quits between us. You know that, right? PJ’s welfare means just as much to me as the two of you do. I hate that your dad is using him as a pawn to get what he wants.”
Patrick turned to her and said, “I don’t like what you’re thinking, Luce. There’s no way in hell I’m letting my father dictate my private life. I don’t give a damn what he thinks about my relationship with you or Beck.”
“Did you tell him you’re not gay?” Lucy asked.
“No. It shouldn’t matter. It’s still none of his business.”
* * * *
The Monday after the July Fourth holiday weekend, Beck pulled up in front of Patrick’s house. Before getting out, he dialed Lucy’s phone and left a message when he got her voice mail. Maizy Owen’s red VW Bug was parked out front and Beck surmised that she was staying with PJ while they went to the meeting at the Dancing Pony.
The about-to-be-five-year-old dynamo collided with his knees the second he walked through the door and called out a greeting.
“Save me, Beck! The Maizy-monster’s gonna eat me!” PJ screeched and then cackled in delight when Beck flipped PJ and planted his bottom on his shoulder.
Maizy came racing around the corner growling and giggling with her hands clawing playfully at his legs. “Rowr! I’m gonna eat me a PJ and peanut butter sandwich!”
PJ hooted with laughter. “I don’t taste good, Maizy-monster! I’m stinky!”
“And ticklish,” Beck added as he flipped PJ again and landed him gently on the wood floor.
“Don’t tickle me or I’ll pee!”
“Ew! No peeing,” Maizy said with a giggle as she smoothed her curly black hair from her face. “How are you, Beck?” she asked as she gave him a hug.
“I’m good, Maizy. You enjoying your vacation from a classroom full of kindergarteners?”
She shook her head and her black curls bounced around her shoulders. “No, I’m not. I’m already gearing up to go back. I miss my last class like crazy and can’t wait for the new one.” She tickled PJ’s belly. “Including this little punkinhead. Go eat your sandwich, buddy.”
PJ ran off, after hugging Maizy’s leg, and Beck heard him climbing into his seat at the table to eat his snack.
Patrick walked out of his office just then. “Thanks again, Maizy. I appreciate you doing this.”
As he hugged her, she replied, “I know you do. Someday I’m sure I’ll be hitting you up for babysitting services, too, if I don’t wind up being an old maid.”
Patrick and Beck both chuckled. As beautiful and vivacious as Patrick’s curvy sister was, that was highly unlikely. It was just a matter of time before some lucky guy snatched her up.
They climbed into Beck’s truck and headed over to the Dancing Pony. The cold air in the club was sweet relief from the heat, which was intense that day, even by his standards.
Inside the club, they greeted Ace Webster and Kemp Whittier, who had been involved in the private investigation into Chloe’s situation. Ethan greeted them and poured coffee into mugs for them after they’d taken a seat.
Ethan introduced the two men who were leading the private investigation. Mel Richardson and Connor Talbot looked imminently capable of finding justice for Chloe. It impressed him and said a lot about the people of Lusty that the investigation had been instigated by their Town Trust. He was grateful that Chloe had found her home in a safe little town like Lusty. Beck was also pleased that he and Patrick had been asked to help get Chloe a little justice.
Connor gave a brief rundown on the situation, most of which Beck and Patrick were familiar with, before he moved into the specifics of what they’d done in the investigation to date, including their manner of surveillance. Beck wondered if they had any pictures of this bastard who’d thrown Chloe and her little sister, Carrie, to the wolves.
Connor said, “As part of the surveillance that we’ve been conducting on our Mr. Smith, we introduced a couple of high-tech audio transmitters, one attached to his telephone, and the other under his computer desk.”
“So what you’re saying is, you’ve bugged the place?” Beck asked.
Conn
or looked like he wanted to smile as he replied, “We did, yes. We know that we can’t use anything we catch on tape in a court of law, per se, but if he were to talk out loud about having killed Neil Jackson, or hell, even where he’s got the body buried, we could use that as probable cause to get a warrant. Unfortunately, that didn’t pan out.”
The investigation hinged around finding probable cause to search Baxter’s property for the body of Neil Jackson, the lawyer representing Chloe and Carrie’s interests, who Baxter was suspected of murdering.
Beck said, “I have no problem with the concept of bugging his place. The fucker stole from two little orphan girls. He deserves to be some jail inmate’s fuck buddy for that.” Realizing that showing any emotion might limit how much good he would be to them in a tight spot, he let out a deep breath. “Sorry, I know that doesn’t help—and I know about the statute of limitations.” Then he looked around the table. “Who’s this guy, anyway? Ethan said he’s been around Divine for a decade or so. Would we know him if we saw him?”
Connor removed a black and white photograph from his briefcase and slid it across the table to him and Patrick. “I took this a few weeks ago. Take a good look, so you’ll recognize him if you do see him.”
Beck lifted the eight by ten photo and stared at it along with Patrick for a few seconds before a cold chill swept over him. “Son of a bitch. I told you there was something wrong about that guy.” Looking at Patrick, he said, “We’ll have to tell Lucy about this. Let her know our suspicions were spot on about him, and not just sexist bullshit…whatever.”
“I take it you’ve seen the man?” Ace Webster asked.
“Yeah.” Patrick nodded before dragging his fingers through his hair in a gesture that clearly showed his agitation.
They’d had the guy within arm’s reach. “He came into Lucy’s place a couple of months back, looking for his computer. I guess he’d left it with Marvin and didn’t know the guy had changed locations. This asshole made an insulting comment to Lucy about her ‘massage parlor.’ Jackass.”
Looking pleased with the development, Ethan said, “Well at least you’ll recognize him when you see him.”
“No shit,” Beck said as he slid the photo back across the table.
“So, our audio surveillance failed to turn up anything that we could use to help us get a warrant. Smith does, however, seem to be talking to himself more and making sense less. Is he going off the deep end? I don’t know. But this makes him more unpredictable, and therefore probably more dangerous.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Patrick said. He shared a glance with Beck and a cold knot formed in Beck’s stomach. That crazy fucker was just running around Divine and had been for years?
“None of us does,” Mel said.
Beck vowed to himself that Baxter wouldn’t be a free man much longer if he had anything to say about it. The discussion veered to matters of Baxter’s financial maneuverings involving accounts in the Cayman Islands, wire transfers, and safety deposit boxes. Patrick asked a question and the discussion continued. All Beck wanted to know was what he could do to make a difference, to bring that bastard to justice.
Chapter Twenty-One
Lucy slipped out of the larger of her two massage rooms to let her customer get dressed and ready to leave. She went into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator. It was still early in the day but she was already feeling tired. The massage she’d just given had been a workout for her hands and she shook one out, then the other, and flexed her fingers.
The heat outside didn’t help either. The last few weeks it had intensified until she could barely stand being outside for long. Beck loved it, worked in it every day, and she didn’t know how he managed. It didn’t seem to bother Patrick very much either and of course, as was the case with children, PJ hardly noticed it at all. She’d gladly spent the majority of the July 4th holiday weekend either in Grace Warner’s pool or in the air-conditioning at home.
With big eyes, Tamara trotted in. “I hope this was okay, but while you were in with Mrs. Eckols, your next appointment cancelled. Right after I hung up with them, another person called wanting to know if they could possibly get in today, so I told them to come. Was that okay? It’s a full body massage.”
Lucy smiled and patted the eager teenager’s shoulder. “It’s fine. I’ll just take a shorter lunch. You did the right thing so that I don’t lose the business. I’ll get the room ready. Can you take care of Mrs. Eckols?”
“Sure. The lady said she could be here in just a few minutes.”
“Who is it?”
Tamara bit her lip and looked apologetic. “I’m sorry, Lucy. I was so happy to fill the spot I didn’t even think to ask. That was dumb.”
Lucy put a hand on Tamara’s shoulder. “You’ll remember next time. It’s not that big a deal. Just find out her name and pencil her in the book when she gets here.”
Lucy carried extra towels into the small massage room and set to work preparing.
Moments later, the front doorbell rang and she exited the room to greet her replacement client. She stopped in the doorway when she saw the woman standing there, gripping her purse in her hands. She was of short stature but the resemblance was clear as she cast her gaze around the interior of the retreat. She seemed a little confused.
“Hi, I’m Lucy,” she said as she stepped forward and put out her hand to shake the woman’s.
The woman smiled at her and shook her hand. “Lucy, I’m Amelia Owen.”
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mrs. Owen. Shall we?” she asked, gesturing to the room.
Mrs. Owen followed her into the massage room and put down her purse. “Lucy, I’m sorry we haven’t met before today.”
Unsure how to react, Lucy sat in the chair nearby. “I’m sorry, too. I could’ve reached out to you and Mr. Owen and I didn’t.”
Mrs. Owen smiled and shook her head, which made her abundant white curls bob around her head. “Patrick’s father has some unrealistic expectations for his son. Couple that with the fact he’s constantly working, and it’s unlikely… Well, I’m making a mess of this, aren’t I?” she said with a soft chuckle. She wrung her hands in her lap and Lucy noticed when her chin quivered the tiniest bit.
“I love my husband very much, Lucy. He’s a wonderful man and a strong leader in this community but he… He’s very set in his ways. Rigid, Patrick would say. Anyone who goes against him feels his wrath…including family.”
“So I’ve gathered,” Lucy said softly. She didn’t want to make this obviously kind woman feel worse.
“I love all my children. I’ve never played favorites. Each of them has a quality that makes them my favorite. But I want you to know that when Patrick refused to toe the line with his father in his firm, and set out to make his own way and be his own boss, I was so very proud of him.” Mrs. Owen’s cheeks pinkened as her words grew stronger.
“Growing up, he cared so much what his father thought of him. Tried endlessly to please him, but I could see, and eventually he must have, too, that he was never going to live up to his father’s expectations. Then Elizabeth made a fool of herself…and him…and his family. I don’t think my husband ever forgave him for that.”
“Forgave him?” Lucy asked incredulously.
Mrs. Owen nodded, as though in solidarity with Lucy. “Yes. Asinine, isn’t it? I never could stand Elizabeth. The day all that bad business happened at Stigall’s, George—Patrick’s father—told him that if he’d been in control of his family, it would never have happened.” She looked up at Lucy with sad blue eyes. “I was there. I saw how much it hurt Patrick to be told that. That…That was the moment that I should’ve stood up to my husband, but I didn’t. I was weak, and dealing with a serious illness at the time. I prayed for someone to come into Patrick’s life who could heal him.”
Lucy wasn’t sure what to say to that. Mrs. Owen seemed to need to talk, so Lucy sat in the other chair and waited. She reached out and took Mrs. Ow
en’s hands.
“I’ve heard wonderful things about you and I’ve heard terrible things about you, Lucy. George has railed against this relationship Patrick has with you and Beck until I don’t know what to think. I raised my son to be a kind, compassionate man, to the best of my ability and in spite of his father. Lucy, I promise, he is not a horrible man or abusive, he’s just so…so…damned stubborn and pigheaded.”
A smile crossed Mrs. Owen’s face and she glanced at Lucy. She had the feeling Mrs. Owen didn’t cuss very often. “George’s father was the same way and it pained me that he followed in his footsteps. I believe that cycle has been broken with Patrick. I’m hoping that you can confirm that.”
Lucy tilted her head. “Why is it that PJ doesn’t see you more often?”
“Before all the trouble, I saw him weekly. Elizabeth would leave him with me for an entire day if I asked her to. We would have a grand time,” she said with a smile, memories shining in her eyes. “Lord, but that boy was a handful even before he could crawl. I became ill right about the time all that trouble happened, with a female complaint, and was hospitalized numerous times. There was little I could do or say about the matter.”
“Are you all right now?”
Mrs. Owen looked up at her and smiled, then looked down at Lucy’s hands holding her own. Her smile grew. “It took a while. I had complications from surgery. George was extremely aggravated over the whole embarrassing situation and basically cut ties with Patrick for a time. I needed more surgery and before we knew it months had gone by. Patrick seemed to be doing fine, so I left well enough alone and contented myself with phone calls and cards.”
“That must’ve been very hard for you.” Lucy wanted to say more but Mrs. Owen continued on, seeming to need to get it all out. Her hands felt fragile in Lucy’s.
“I was happy to hear that Patrick had a friend in Beck, and then I heard rumors that he might be dating a local woman. I thought perhaps he’d remarry. An old woman hopes, you know. I thought that eventually I’d have my family back the way it used to be…if I was just patient. Then that woman called the house.”
Lucy's Revenge [Divine Creek Ranch 15] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 33
