“Dude. I didn’t mean to bring that up.”
“You didn’t. Listen, J, you’re doing the right thing. I can tell. If you can’t trust your own instincts, trust mine. It’s worth it. It’s worth trying.”
“But what if it doesn’t work? What if she won’t talk to me?” I hate the sound to my voice. I sound desperate. I feel desperate. God.
“What if she does? What are you going to say to her?” He pulls the door to the terminal open. We sneak inside, and he holds the door. “Hey, hold Quincy for one more minute. Kelly was waiting back to grab the stroller. I’m going to go help her.” He hands the little one to me and jogs back over to where Kelly is trying to resurrect the stroller.
I look at the blonde Quincy. She’s drooling again, but she doesn’t fuss. She just hangs out with me. She raises her fat little hand and points at her mom and dad.
They’ve finally gotten the stroller to unfold, and hand in hand, they push it towards us. Kelly must say something to Andy, and he leans down and kisses her, wraps an arm around her shoulder.
They suck so bad. I look at Quincy, who plays with the end of my nose. She likes to pat it with the flat of her palm. I don’t know why, but it keeps her happy most of the time, so I humor her.
She looks like she’ll listen to me, so I rant. “Seriously, can your parents look at least a little miserable? Your Uncle Jeremy’s dying in the midst of a total fuck-up on the love front here. The poster children for love might as well take a voodoo needle to my embroidered heart.”
Quincy looks at me, seriously. “Poop.”
I laugh so hard I almost drop her.
Andy and Kelly meet back up with us. Kelly looks at me askance. “What’s so funny?”
“What words has Quincy said to you?”
“So far Mama and Dada and Bobo and Hunner. And birdy.”
“Well, add on a classic. She’s a peach.”
Andy picks her out of my arms. “What? You didn’t teach her the f-word, did you? You’ll lose your godfather designation if you did.”
Quincy chimes in. “Poop.”
Kelly snorts. “Jeremy didn’t teach her that. It’s too clean.”
Andy tucks Quincy into the stroller. “Let’s go impress everyone at the picnic. Maybe that’ll be your way in with Macy, a small child and her growing vocabulary.”
I think again about how this is going to go. “I’ll take whatever I can get.”
And here we are, driving a Yukon down a dry road in Idaho.
Sure, Kelly sits next to Quincy in the back seat, helping her drink watered-down juice and eat Melba toast. And yes, Andy knows the road better, but it’s déjà vu all over again.
“How in the world did you manage to get the house again? It’s the 4th of July weekend. No way was it just available.” I resist the urge to chew my nails. Or hang my head out the window and scream from anxiety.
Andy smiles. “Way. It was available. The crew of football coaches due to come fish all just got fired when the A.D. at Carroll College cleaned house. No fishing and bonding for them, poor schmucks.”
“I feel sorry for them and lucky for us. What about Tucker?” Tucker was with us in Toronto, and why he’d pass on the chance to come hang out with us, I don’t know. I think he likes me okay, and his and Andy’s bromance endures, movie after movie and premiere after premiere.
Andy sighs. “Poor guy had to cover some Nickelodeon girl at a baseball game. She was singing the National Anthem. It’s almost as bad as protecting a boy band.”
“Fewer ten-year-old girls squealing, but just barely. And then drunk idiots who don’t give a rip chucking beers down on the field ‘cause they want the game to start.”
Andy looks at me. “You’ve done that before. Don’t be all pious.”
“I did that at a hockey game. And it was a squid, not a beer. And it wasn’t about some tween singing, it was a show of support.”
“Children, stop squabbling. I left Hunter and Beau at home with Tessa, I thought.” Kelly chides us in a voice I’m positive I’ve heard her use with her boys.
“Careful, young lady. I’m tender.” I turn and face her, pull a goofy face for Quincy.
Kelly nods barely. “Not tender enough for my taste, but I’ll allow it. Now talk about something else.”
“Honey, we’re home!” Andy pulls the left onto the loop road off of the highway.
And my palms begin to sweat. I feel a sheen of nerves and nausea coat my tongue and my armpits.
“Jesus. This was a bad idea.”
Andy turns into the parking lot of the lodge. I scan the lot for Macy’s car. Nothing.
“This is the scariest best idea you’ve had in a while, Mr. King.” Andy points to the main building. “Go check in for us. We’ve got about a ton of small child gear to unload.”
I get out of the car and swallow my heart back down into my chest. Where is her car? Is she not here? Maybe some other guy rented her out for the day; she’s out fishing with him, giving him all of her attention.
I shake my head hard. One thing I’ve never been is jealous. Okay, I’ve been jealous as hell, but with Macy, one of the most amazing things was the way it felt. No one else got us the way we got each other. No one can compete with me, I don’t think, because we fit. We get each other. I’ve been with plenty of women who should’ve been my match. But when you meet yours, you just know. I think. Unless I’m so delusional that I’ll realize this is all shit right about the same time they lock the door on my nice little padded cell.
I pull the handle of the door to the main lodge and hear raised voices. My mouth goes dry, and my pulse shoots into high gear. It’s Macy. Macy and Richard, if I remember that voice.
“I did no such thing. I always have Irene or Daniel double count the front desk till, anyway. Every time. And most of the time I’m out on the river. I don’t even touch money most of the time.”
“All I know is there’s a serious shortfall, Macy. You can’t explain that away.”
“I shouldn’t have to explain it. I had nothing to do with it. I don’t even believe this is happening! I didn’t make the deposit that day. I was just back from Seattle, and I didn’t even work a full shift. And I hardly ever handle cash, anyway. How could we be short?”
“Lots of ways to embezzle. And it’s us, not you. You’re not short. I bet if I checked your balance at D.L. Evans Bank, I’d find it has grown. A lot. Recently.”
“Richard, come on. You know me. Why would I do that?”
“I can think of a lot of reasons why. Your car. It’s falling apart. You owe money all over Teton County. I don’t even fault you for it. I’d want a way out of this place if I were you.”
“I’m done listening.”
“That’s fine. I called the prosecuting attorney’s office. They’ll be in contact after the long weekend.”
“What? If they’ve got a reason to arrest me, why don’t they do it now?”
“They don’t have access to our accounts until Monday. Lisa’s visiting her kids in Provo, and when she’s back, she’ll fax over the bank’s statement of accounts. Then the attorney’s office can open the case.”
“I can’t even believe what I’m hearing. You’ve got no proof.”
I’ve been standing in the front lobby, trying to slow the rush of blood in my ears enough to hear the conversation. The back room behind the front desk is just out of my line of sight, but it’s the same one where I first saw Macy. When she came out to check Andy and me in, and noticed me instead of the movie star.
But what the hell am I hearing now?
I need to get out. If she sees me, there’ll be no hope we can even talk. I don’t know what’s going on, but I need to sort it out on my own before she sees me.
I push out the door, trying to figure out what to tell Andy and Kelly. My phone buzzes.
Sorry to make you wait, buddy. They left the house open for us—we just saw the sign on the door. Come over unless you’re already fixing things with fishergirl.
I swallow hard. He can’t know what I just heard. I’ve got to figure it out before he catches wind. He’s supported me through all of this because he trusted what I thought of Macy. But I don’t know if he’d forgive this. If it’s true, Macy’s sunk with my friends. Andy protects us, and he’d tell me to protect myself.
This royally sucks.
When I walk in the house, I immediately latch on to the little girl trying to waddle her way around the coffee table. “Q! Look at you, you big girl!”
Andy looks up from putting away bottles of formula. “Did you see her?”
I don’t know how I get anything out, but I do. “No one was at the desk. I waited for a bit, but then I got your text. Guess I’ll catch her later.”
We settle in, eat dinner, entertain Quincy, and then Kelly puts her down for the night. I can hear her in the bedroom, singing to the little girl. Andy sits with me on the couch, and the TV’s on, but we’ve turned the volume down so Quincy can settle.
“If we get any more domestic, I may as well check into the Golden Dawn Estates and hang it all up. I feel a hundred years old.” I can’t think straight, but I can’t let Andy know there’s a problem.
Andy smiles. “I can’t get enough of it.”
“All of it?” I look at him, wondering about this for real.
He considers, looks up at the big log beams of the ceiling for a beat. “Okay, croup, I got enough of that for a lifetime. If I could trade all of the sick baby worry for sleep—I do like sleep.”
I can’t tell him, but an idea lights in my sad, ridiculous brain. “So no Tucker, but what about Todd? He’s missing out.”
Andy shrugs. “I wasn’t able to get a hold of him in time. He’s still in LA, still saying it’s all about the new album, but I don’t know. He was way off his game the whole trip out here.”
“He didn’t tell you about the death in the family?”
Andy looks surprised. “No. What? Someone in his family died that week?”
Now I’m suspicious. Todd thinks of Andy as his BFF. He didn’t tell him about the death? “Apparently not. Very surprised that I didn’t get a straight story from Mr. Reliable.” I can’t keep the sarcasm from dripping off my tongue.
I get a jab to the ribs. Andy follows it up with a finger wag. “Now, listen. You know Todd’s like a brother to me.”
“I know, I know, the high school friend, the one who knew you when, who keeps it real. I’m with you. I must’ve misunderstood what he was upset about.”
“So now the infamously impatient and judgy Jeremy King wants to give him a chance to redeem himself? Why the sudden altruism?”
I know exactly why. The plot I’m hatching isn’t ready to crack its shell yet, so I don’t say what I’m really thinking. “It’s not altruism. I need someone to drink a 4th of July beer with, and it’s certainly not you, oh squeaky clean one.”
Andy shakes his head. “You’re insufferable.” He stands up and stretches, points to the bedroom where Kelly and Quincy are. “My wife has stopped singing, which means the wild wombat toddler’s finally asleep. I’m taking my leave of you and going to where the wife is.”
“Sayonara. I might call Todd if you’re okay with it.”
He nods. “Go for it. And let me know if you grow a pair and go looking for Macy. You know, the real reason we’re here.”
I swallow hard, put on the best poker face I have. “I got the feeling she’s not working tonight. I’ll track her down tomorrow.”
“Okay. Maybe we’ll get in some fishing before it gets too hot. You could woo her on the river again.”
“Yeah, that went so well the first time. But yes, fishing I can do.” I feel like shit for a minute. “Hey, brother, you’ve been amazing through this whole thing. I don’t know why I’ve completely gone overboard, but thanks for sticking with me.”
“You’ve apparently lost your mind.” He lingers at the hallway for a minute. “But for a good cause. Many a man has lost his shit over a woman. You’re not immune, which I find hopeful. So there you go. Good night, my insane friend.”
I hesitate to admit this, but Andy might be the wisest person I know. And I owe him for it. “Good night.”
I wait for about five minutes before I step out of the front door and call Todd.
“Hello?”
He actually answers.
“Todd, you need to come to Idaho and do me a favor.”
“Fuck you, Jeremy. Anything else?”
“Look, you told me you had a death in the family, but Andy never heard a thing about that.”
There’s a long pause on the phone. “Don’t say anything to him. It was my cat.”
“For Chrissakes. Your cat. That was the death in the family.”
He sighs. I can hear it through the phone. “I’m not lying.”
“Fine. Sorry about Fluffy.”
“Her name was Mrs. Nesbitt.”
“You’re giving me way too much to tease you about. I will try really, really hard to rise above. Now redeem yourself and get your ass down here. Andy would love for you to come hang with us, and I could really use your help. It’s for Macy, so it’s not even really for me. You’d be helping someone else.”
“So this favor would be about what?”
“I’ll cut your balls off if you leak this to Tucker or Andy, but the lodge owner, I heard him accuse Macy of stealing money from the company. Taking a deposit, skimming the hotel till.”
“And?”
“I don’t buy it.”
“Based on what? That she’s a good lay?”
“Now you may need to come here so I can kick your ass for that comment, you douche.”
He breathes into the phone for a second. “Sorry. You know you and me, we could work harder to get along. We both like Andy a lot, and he seems to tolerate you, so maybe there’s some common ground here.”
“Right now the common ground we share has something to do with the day that you bagged out of fishing to stay back at the house. I think it might help get Macy out of this mess that Richard’s accusing her of. Did you see her at all on that day?”
“I did, but I wasn’t stealing if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“I don’t give a shit what you were doing, but you can vouch for Macy on that day, and that’s the important part.”
“Huh. I see your point.”
“Are you getting on a plane, then?”
“I don’t know, Jeremy, you’re the big-time Hollywood agent. What plane are you putting me on?”
I grit my teeth. “Fine. I’ll call Aaronson and see about his plane. If not that, you better take a first class ticket. I’ll text you with the details.”
He chuckles. “I like this. Jeremy King bending over backwards to spend time with me, of all people.”
“I don’t like it one bit, but I’ll do what it takes to clear things for Macy.”
“I’ll go pack. Text me.” He makes a loud smooching sound, wet through the phone. “Love you, J.”
“Screw you, Todd.” I end the call.
An alibi is a good start, but I’ve got to track the money. However, I don’t need anybody’s help around here for that.
LA is all about money. If I need to follow money, I know plenty of LA people for that. Money leaves a trail like a big ol’ Seattle slug, and I can get someone to find it.
I just need a little time.
I spend most of the night on the phone. Eventually I come inside, and realize that I’m cold and sore and tired as hell.
And that Andy is up and humming in the kitchen. Cheerily.
“Morning, sunshine. What’s the deal with you? You look like you were hit by a bus.”
“Just trying to figure some things out. I need to borrow the Yukon this morning. I need to go find Macy.”
His eyes widen, and his voice brightens. “That’s what I want to hear. Some fighting spirit.” He tosses me the keys. “You go, girl.”
I punch him in the arm, keys in my hand. “Don’t mock me. I’m cranky, and the
‘let’s tease Jeremy ‘cause he’s in love’ shtick wears thin today.”
He laughs. “God love you, Jeremy King. See you in a bit.”
I drive over to Macy’s apartment. It’s ungodly early. Seriously, even on days when I run in LA, I don’t wake up this early. Of course, I didn’t really go to bed last night, so…
Her car is in front of the apartment, and I puzzle on why it wasn’t in the parking lot of the lodge last night.
I get out and go and knock on her door.
The little dogs, Canadian celebrity impersonators Justin Trudeau and Pierre Trudeau, are comfortingly barking their little heads off on the other side of the door. That’s a good sign.
She opens the door just a crack. Then, when she sees that it’s me, she swings it wide, and the dogs come out and bounce around my ankles, and then Justin Trudeau gets too excited and flops over, snoring loudly.
“What’s going on? Why are you here?”
I shove my hands into my pockets. “Listen. All my nerves from last night and the day before that and most of the time in Toronto are all shot and frayed and numbed by the lack of sleep and the stench of desperation. So I’ve got no game today, not a single tiny shred of it.”
She purses her lips, thinking. “Okay, I guess.” She’s quiet.
“What I mean to say is that I came back to tell you I’m sorry, and I want you in my life, and then I heard Richard the owner talking to you last night, and I know about the missing money, and I want to help you.”
She sucks in a breath. I don’t know if she’s shocked by my rambling honesty, or what. She takes a step closer to me.
“I need you to believe me. I didn’t take that money. I swear to God.” She looks up at me, the skin under her delicate jaw flushes pink, and I can see her swallow hard.
“I need to believe you. But you did steal my watch. You yourself told me you’re a compulsive thief.”
“Please. Jeremy.”
She’s never said my first name. To hear it come from those lips sends me into orbit. I bite my lip.
“Say something.” She puts a hand out, and her eyes dip to the ground between us, and then she sets that impossibly soft hand, delicate as a bird, rests it imperceptibly, over my heart. Her palm warms the cotton of my t-shirt. I bite down harder on my lip.
Use Somebody Page 19
