In the midst of our aimless, gas-consuming drive around Naperville, Nate had called to let Troy know he and their mom were on their way home from the police station. That’s when we’d called it a night. A very early one since it isn’t quite six.
I throw the lock on the door. When I turn, I’m startled to see Vic standing in front of me, her arms crossed and her expression that of a mother waiting for a child who broke curfew.
“It’s about time you got home. I was just about to call you.”
My mood immediately lifts, the tension in my body easing. “I thought you weren’t flying in until tomorrow.”
“My assignment wrapped up a day early. I flew in on standby.”
A brilliant white smile spreads over her face as she opens her arms wide. I walk straight into them. We share a prolonged hug before stepping back to peruse each other.
“Your hair is getting so long,” I say, rubbing a lock of her glossy dark hair between my fingers. “You look great.” Although looking great is her usual M.O. My sister is a natural beauty. “Been getting some sun?” I tease lightly, taking in the warm caramel color of her skin.
“Last week I was told I didn’t look ethnic enough for an assignment. A girls gotta do what a girl’s gotta do,” she says with an audacious wink.
I let out a dry laugh. “Who said that? Bill Keets?”
“Speaking of…any word on if he’s going to keep his job?” She raises a perfectly manicured brow.
“He has so far. Let’s hope it stays that way.”
Vic gives a solemn nod of understanding. Then a teasing glint enters her eyes and she hooks her arm through mine. “C’mon, now you can tell me all about how you and lover boy are doing.”
Troy. Oh God.
For a few minutes, I’d let myself forget the disaster bearing down on us like a fast-moving storm. Vic doesn’t know and I have to tell her. The thought of keeping it from her—even for a minute—doesn’t occur to me.
I shoot a look in the direction of the kitchen. “Is Alan home?”
“Not yet.”
Unless my stepdad is going to be late, we all sit down together for dinner as a family.
“Where’s Mandy?”
“Watching TV with Mom.”
“C’mon.” My voice drops to a whisper for no apparent reason since no one can possibly hear me. “I have to tell you something.” I grab her by the wrist and tow her up the stairs and to my room. Inside, I close and lock the door.
It’s hard to look at her smiling face when I know what I’m going to say is going to obliterate it. My sister has had so much piled on her slender shoulders for so long, it’s not fair to do this to her. But if I don’t tell her she’ll never forgive me. We don’t keep things like this from each other.
“Mr. Ridgefield was arrested for financial fraud this morning.”
Confusion clouds her eyes and a crease appears above the bridge of her nose. She gives her head a firm shake, sending her hair swishing around her shoulders.
“What?” she exclaims in a startled, strident voice I’ve never heard come from her before.
I go on to tell her everything I know.
Her face loses all color as she reaches back to grip the lip of my dresser. She closes her eyes and begins taking deep breaths, her hand on her chest. If I didn’t know her better, I’d say she is about to pass out.
“Vic, are you okay? What’s wrong?” Beyond the obvious of course.
“Just give me a second,” she says, continuing to gulp in mouthfuls of air.
“Vic, you okay?” I never thought she’d take it this hard. Nothing fazes her. There’s a reason I call her the family rock.
When she lifts her head tears well in her eyes. “I invested everything with him, April. Everything.” Her voice wavers and then fades off.
Shock ripples through me, ping-ponging hard against every nerve ending. Frozen, I’m more stunned than she can possibly be. I can’t even feel my legs.
“No. No. Nononono. Noooooo.” For a several long seconds I can’t stop my head from shaking from side to side. If Troy losing all sense of financial security, and Mom and Alan losing whatever they’d invested are bad, this is worse.
At the age of ten, my sister had taken over being the breadwinner of the family. The life insurance payout when my dad died hadn’t been much, and had only lasted a year or so. Vic had been discovered at the Taste of Chicago by a local talent agent, and things took off from there.
When my sister cries, she doesn’t cry for herself. She cried when her modeling jobs didn’t earn enough money to keep the electricity on in our small apartment. She cried when Jake and I didn’t have enough to eat. She’d sobbed her heart out when Mom lost her second part-time job in the span of three months. Money had been particularly tight then. Then Mom had met Alan and our financial situation had changed for the better. I’d hoped for good. It seems I was wrong.
The sight of her silent, heartbreaking tears as they track a wet trail down her pale cheeks snaps me out of my stupor.
Stepping forward, I pull her urgently into my arms, offering her the comfort of my embrace. “Oh, Vic don’t cry. Everything’s going to be alright.” I try to sound reassuring even while I’m mourning the depth of loss I can’t yet comprehend.
Of course what I’m saying is based on a wing and a prayer. I have no idea if things are going to be okay. I’m looking down the barrel of a gun that holds certain financial devastation not just for my entire family but Troy’s as well. Unless everyone can be made whole again, bouncing back from this is going to be near impossible.
After a minute of holding her, stroking her hair, I lead her to my bed and sit her down before sitting next to her.
“April, I can’t lose everything,” she whispers in a voice hoarse from tears.
I keep my arms around her. “You won’t. Even if they won’t be able to recover what’s been stolen, I have money. You can have it. I don’t need it now anyway.”
Dropping her chin, she vehemently shakes her head.
“I mean it, Vic. I want you to have it.” One thing I know about my sister is that she’s proud. She’s the giver. She’s always been the one who’s taken care of us. This has to be doubly hard for her.
She lifts her mottled, tear-stained face and looks me in the eye. “April I’m not going to take your money.” Her tone is unequivocally firm. She’s not budging.
“What about the bakery?”
Straightening, she inhales a deep breath as she wipes a tear from the corner of her eye. “That’s what business loans are for. I’ll have to talk to Madison and Ireland about it. They were depending on me for most of the capital.”
“What if you used my money and made me an investor? I could own—” I rack my brain for an amount that won’t sound like charity “—like fifteen percent of the company?”
Do I have any desire to be part owner of a bakery shop?
No.
Would I do just about anything to help my sister?
Absolutely.
Her eyes soften and her mouth lifts in a wan smile. Placing her palm gently against my cheek, she says softly, “Thank you but I’m not going to let you do that.” After a long beat of silence, she removes her hand from my face. “I guess what I need to do now is find out if I’m going to need a lawyer. I’m almost sure I will,” she mutters to herself.
Yeah but lawyers cost money. “Em’s dad is a district attorney in New York. Do you want me to talk to her? Her father probably has tons of contacts.” The words are out without much thought. Then I remember Em doesn’t get along with her dad. But it’s too late to take it back.
“No. I’m going to talk to Rhonda first.” Rhonda is her agent.
“How much did you invest?” I have to know and I’m dreading the answer.
She shakes her head, clearly reluctant to tell me. Or maybe the amount is too much for her to bear to admitting is lost.
“Tell me,” I insist.
She pauses and takes a breath before stating.
“Seven hundred and fifty grand.”
I’m left gasping at the amount.
“Half a million was in an IRA and the other two fifty was in a short-term mutual fund. One hundred and fifty was earmarked for the bakery,” she goes on to explain.
Oh my god.
“I-I didn’t know you had that kind of money.”
“The Victoria’s Secret campaign paid really well. And you know me, I’m a saver.” She gives a faux-sheepish-looking shrug.
That she is. And she’s probably been able to save a lot more of her money since Mom married Alan. She no longer has to support the entire family.
“Damn, Vic, what can I do?” I hate the position I’m in. I hate feeling this ineffectual.
The look she gives me is so loving and warm, my heart constricts with love for her. “You let me cry all over you and that’s more than enough.” She squeezes my hand. “It’s done. You can’t cry over spilled milk. We’re all just going to have to move on from here and hope for the best.”
Tears sting the backs of my eyes because this is so typical of her. She never lets anything get her down too long. But she’s stark raving crazy if she thinks I’m going to let things go at this. After everything she’s done for us, she deserves someone to come to her rescue for once. I may not be able to get her back the money she lost, but I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure she has at least enough to start the business she and her friends have been planning to open for years.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
When I get home after dropping April off, I find my mom and brother in the family room. As soon as I sit down, Mom does her best to assure us that our father isn’t involved in whatever fraud occurred. Since she looks like she’s aged years within the last couple hours, I don’t think she’s completely convinced of it herself. An hour and much hand-wringing later, she excuses herself and retires for the night.
Nate and I turn in soon afterward, and for the first time in a long time, I don’t talk to April before I fall asleep. Things are already changing. I can feel it deep inside. And it scares the shit out of me.
The following morning, I’m up showered and dressed by seven-thirty. The smell of fresh-brewed coffee and the sight of my brother greet me when I enter the kitchen.
“I’m going to the jail this morning,” he informs me right off.
“I’m going with you.” I open the cupboard and take out one of the huge mugs. I’m going to need caffeine in a serious way today.
Nate places the morning edition of the Chicago Tribune on the kitchen table in front of him. “Do you think we should leave Mom?”
I’m distracted by the giant headline on the front page.
Ridgefield Financials is a Fraud.
Fuck. I hope this doesn’t become national news. The fact that it’ll probably be the leading story all over Illinois is bad enough. The last thing my mom needs are clients on our doorstep demanding blood.
“Mom’s gonna wanna go too,” I tell him and scoop a teaspoon of sugar into my coffee. I usually have it with milk but I’m taking it black today.
“Mom doesn’t need the stress right now.” My brother’s tone and manner are firm. “You stay home with her and I’ll talk to dad this morning. If you still want, you can go this afternoon.”
Carrying my coffee to the table, I take the chair adjacent to his and study him quietly. “What do you know?” He damn well knows something because he won’t look me in the eye.
He remains silent, mouth pressed into a grim line.
“Tell me, Nate,” I demand, my voice low and fierce.
My brother scrubs his hands over his face. Then he directs his gaze at me, letting out a protracted sigh. “He did it. Dad’s been stealing from the company.”
At this moment, I’m not sure where I stood on the line of my dad’s guilt or innocence. I wished for the best and feared the worse. It’s clichéd, but it’s true.
My brother’s assertion sends me hurtling over the line with crushing force. Right now all I can hear is my heart pounding in my ears, the sound amplified by a megaphone.
“How do you know? How can you be sure?”
“He told me. The SEC and the postal inspector requested his records months ago. He knew this was coming.”
Another blow to the solar plexus. It takes me a bit to gather my thoughts and wrap my head around what my brother is saying. And what it means.
“When did he tell you?”
“Last week,” Nate replies wearily.
“And you never said a word to Mom? You didn’t do anything to prepare her?”
“Jesus Christ, Troy, she’s in remission. I didn’t know when it was going to happen. I thought I’d have more time. Why the hell do you think I came home?”
“I thought you came because she called you to tell you she thought something was going on with dad.”
“I was going to tell her. Am going to tell her. I just don’t know how. I don’t want to break her heart.”
“You couldn’t have told her last night when she was swearing up and down he had nothing to do with it?” I snap.
“Fuck Troy, you saw her yesterday,” he says, waving his hand in the general direction of the front stairs. “She’s a mess. I want to give her time to—to— Well, you know.”
I tamp down my surge of anger because I get where my brother is coming from. My mom has been through enough. She shouldn’t have to go through this too.
I place my coffee mug on the table and push to my feet. “I’m going to go see him. You can stay with mom since you know a hell of a lot more than I do.” He knew and never told me. That’s really starting to sting.
“For what? You already know he’s guilty. I’m going there as a lawyer.”
“Yeah, but not his lawyer. He’s already got one.” I dig my car keys out of my pocket.
Nate looks up, his expression resigned. “Troy—”
“I’m going, Nate because I want to know why. And I want him to admit it to my face.”
***
By the time I get to the jail my anger has reached volcanic levels. It’s twenty minutes before the officer leads me into the small visiting room. I see my dad, and that’s when my anger begins to dissipate, and I’m awash in the same kind of fear and despair I felt when I found out my mom had cancer.
My dad doesn’t look like my dad anymore, especially not in the orange jumpsuit he’s wearing. He was a pretty handsome guy the last time I saw him six months ago. But Mom was right. He’s lost a bunch of weight. His face is gaunt, aging him far more than the cancer or this whole mess has aged my mom.
I stand, but I don’t know whether to step out from behind the table. He’s my dad and I love him, but right now I don’t know how I’m supposed to greet him. This is far from a normal reunion. And I’m not alone in how I feel going by the expression on his face. The trepidation in his eyes tells me he’s wary of my reception.
His mouth twitches in something between a grimace and a smile. He takes a seat in the chair across from me and the decision is made for me. No hug or handshake. Under the circumstances, I guess it would have been weird. I resume my seat.
“I didn’t know if you’d come.” He sounds as fatigued and sleep deprived as he looks.
With a nod I acknowledge that I’d seriously debated that. More than once on the way over, I’d thought about turning around and driving over to April’s. “Nate told me.”
His gaze flickers to mine then he quickly looks away. When my dad’s nervous or worried, he has a habit of playing with his wedding ring. Right now he’s rubbing the white patch of flesh where it usually is. “He said he would.”
“Why? Why the hell would you do something like this? How could you cheat not just your clients, but your friends too?”
He lowers his gaze, his lashes shielding his eyes from mine. “I didn’t set out to. Not at first. Then things got out of hand. I always meant to pay the money back.”
I make a sound of disbelief in the back of my throat and stare incredul
ously at the part dividing the top of his graying head. “Stealing one-hundred-and-twenty million dollars doesn’t just happen, Dad.” Who does he think he’s fooling? I’m not a fuckin’ idiot. “And if you don’t mind, I don’t want to talk to the top of your head.”
Maybe it’s the disgust in my voice that I can’t contain, but his head jerks up. I’ve never talked to him like that before. But then he’s never been arrested for fleecing six hundred clients out of their life savings.
“Do you think I woke up one day and decided t-to do this?” he asks, making an impassioned plea for me to understand. “When the market crashed, the company’s and this family’s survival was at stake. I was borrowing from Peter to pay Paul.”
“Yeah, well that’s what the Feds call a Ponzi scheme, Dad.”
Propping his elbows on the table, he wearily massages his temples. “I always intended to make the money back.”
I’d actually hoped he was going to tell me he’d taken the money for my mother’s treatment. I would have understood that a helluva lot better than the truth: he mismanaged his clients’ funds and in the process, ruined God knows how many lives.
I lean forward, my forearms flat against the veneer surface, and get up in his face. “How could you let April’s parents invest with you? You knew them. Alan is one of your best friends. How could you do this to Mom?”
“I would have lost everything. The house, the cars, there’d have been no money to send your brother to school.”
Unbelievable as it seems, I think he really believes that stealing the money was his only option. And that conceding failure was not.
Suddenly, I feel spent, tired of all of it. “Yeah, well we’re going to lose everything now. Us and six hundred other families.” With that, I rise to my feet.
My father stares up at me, blinking rapidly for a second. Then his shoulders slump as if he realizes the futility of his defense. He has none. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say, I’m sorry. I screwed up.”
Caught between too many roiling emotions, I don’t know what to feel. He’s my dad and as fucked up as what he did is, I still love him. The thought of him going to jail cuts straight to the heart.
Always Been You Page 26
