“Look, I’ll drop the whole thing if I can be assured I’ll get my money back. I can see that you weren’t planning to sell,” the Tall Guy offered congenially.
“I’ll track her down if it’s the last damned thing I do.” Ryan pushed his way through the crowd, his eyes widening when he finally registered Bree standing in the way of his dramatic retreat.
She stood her ground, holding her breath as she waited to see if he’d throw her out of the store or accept her being there as a gesture of support. They locked eyes for a long moment before he grabbed her by the hand and pulled her down the back aisle of the store.
“You shouldn’t be here. Now’s not a good time.” He spoke softly, his mouth close to her ear.
“Now is the perfect time. You need me, Ryan. You all do.” She placed her hand on his chest, and drew comfort from the fact that he seemed to lean into the touch.
He looked back toward the office.
“I have to find her. I have to make this right.”
“We’ll find her together, Ryan.”
“No, you don’t get it. I did this. I fell for her lies all over again. And this time I didn’t just ruin my own future. I ruined my parents’. I ruined yours—again. Fuck. I’ve got to go.” He started to turn toward the door and Bree held on fast.
“Ryan, stop. Let Chief Hanson do his job. Trust Chase and the rest of the police force. This is what they do, sweetheart. You take care of your parents. Your mom is so worried about you. Take care of her. Take care of your dad. This has to be so hard for him. We need to make sure he doesn’t relapse.” Her steady gaze held his as she tried to wrap him in love and support with just a look.
“And take care of you. Ry, you look like death warmed over. This is all on Haley. You are beating yourself up over something that you didn’t do.”
“Why are you here, Bree?” He pulled her into his arms, his voice cracking under the strain. “I don’t—” He didn’t finish his sentence, just crushed her close, pressing his mouth hard against the top of her head.
I don’t want you here. I don’t deserve your support. It could have been either. But it didn’t matter. She was here. And she wasn’t going anywhere.
“I’m so sorry.” He whispered against her hair, his arms quaking around her body. He didn’t elaborate and she didn’t ask.
Again, his words could have had a thousand different meanings and right now things were so chaotic that she wasn’t sure how to interpret them. Instead, she just held him close, rubbing his back through the thick denim of his shirt.
“I’ve got this. I promise not to go all vigilante. Really. I’ll talk to you soon.” Ryan stepped back enough to rest his forehead against hers.
She was being dismissed. Okay, well, at least she could say she tried.
“Call me if you need anything.” She cupped his scruffy cheek in her palm and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. Her heart shattered when he pushed her away just as gently.
Blinking hard to keep the tears at bay just long enough to make it outside, Bree put one foot in front of the other and concentrated on reaching the front door.
“Bree, I ... ”
“Yes?”
“I was just going to say that, yeah, I’ll call you if we need anything.” Ryan swiped a hand over his face and turned to rejoin the men in the office.
Regardless of the ambiguity of his earlier words, Bree knew a brush off when she heard one. Despite her efforts, a single tear tracked down her cheek as she slipped out the door and hurried to her car. Knowing she’d never be able to hide her heartache behind a cheerful enough facade to fool a group of four year olds, Bree went back to her apartment for a good cry.
• • •
Ryan watched Bree leave. He bit his tongue to keep from calling her back. He’d started to tell her he loved her. But that would have done nothing more than give her false hope. He’d had a lot of time to think last night and the only solution that made any sense was to move his parents back to California with him. Thankfully, he hadn’t burned any bridges there yet, and still had a job and a condo to go back to. It might not come to that. But he’d severely underestimated his ex-wife and now he had to scramble to clean up this nightmare if it turned out that they couldn’t find her.
“Hey, we’re gonna get out of here. If we learn anything, we’ll let you know. I’m really sorry, bud.” Chase slapped him on the shoulder as he nodded to Ryan and his parents just before following the chief outside.
Toby spoke in hushed tones with Anne and Bo, hugging them both before seeing himself out.
“You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like,” Mr. Wattley said. “I stand by my word. If your ex-wife is caught and my money is returned, the hardware store is yours. I’ll be staying at the Scallop Shores Inn for the next few days. Just in case. If the authorities cannot find her by then, I’ll make arrangements to get the keys back from you.” The man gave him an awkward handshake and hunched into his coat against the driving rain that had just come in from shore.
Ryan started to lock the door, scoffed at himself for bothering, and turned back toward the eerily silent store. No background music. No more crowded office. His mother sat behind the cash register, wringing her hands. He knew she was dangerously close to losing it and he wasn’t sure how he’d handle that when it happened. His father struggled to his feet with the aid of his new walker and shuffled slowly down the aisles that were as much a part of him as his own limbs.
He thought they’d had time. After all, he’d only just kicked Haley out yesterday. If only they had found her before she met with Wattley, before she filed the paperwork. But her treachery ran deeper than any of them knew. Ryan had assumed that it was yesterday’s debacle that had caused her to steal the offer and the store deed. In reality, she had started this ball rolling a full week before and it was too late for him to do anything but wait and see if the police could track down Haley. Doyle said she was in LA already. But how did one search for a woman paying for everything with cash? And what if she’d been lying to him too?
“So much for being a town hero, huh? More like town moron.” Using his arms, he hefted himself to the counter and swung around to face his mother.
He could tell she wanted to say something but refused to indulge him in his wallowing. She watched him steadily, her eyes dry for now.
“I wanted to secure your future, yours and Dad’s. I didn’t want you to have to worry about money.”
“It’s not your responsibility, Ryan. Your father and I set up a retirement account before you were even born. True, his stroke was not something we had planned on, but it isn’t something that is going to break us, either. We’ll be all right.” She gripped his hand and squeezed.
“He needs private nurses. Therapy. He has no money coming in. I want you to come home with me to California. You can stay with Wes and me at our condo until we find a place for you both to live comfortably.”
“Right. An old folks’ home. Shame on you!”
“No, Ma! Assisted living. Not like Kittredge Manor. You and Dad would have your own place. You could still cook and clean to your heart’s content. The only difference is that they have medical personnel on staff and he could get all the help he needed.” Ryan slapped a palm on the slick surface of the counter.
“Listen, Ma, I still have my job waiting. This is what I came out here to do. Once I sold the store, I was to go back. Not many places would offer a deal like that. Now would be the perfect time to count our blessings and be thankful I still have a source of income to go back to.”
“And what about Bree? Are we just going to ask her to pack up her life and move in with all of us? One big, happy family?” she asked in a warbling voice.
He’d found his mother’s tipping point. Damn it. Her lip trembled as she stared with red-rimmed eyes. She hadn’t been angry about his part in the store being sold out from under them. But when it came to Bree Adams? Now she was pissed.
“There are things you don’t know, Ma. I thought it wo
uld work with us. I wanted it to. I really did. But this is just too big for any of us.”
“Do you love her?” She swiped at her eyes with the sleeve of the ratty brown sweater he’d swear she had owned since he was a little kid and fixed him with a baleful glare.
“Yes, Ma. I love her. But I want her to be happy. She deserves happy. Bree has had a lot of hurt in her life. And—”
“And you’re the one who hurt her. Yadda yadda, boo hoo. You want to be a hero, Ryan? Stay and fight. Stay and face the town gossips who are going to make your life a living hell for the next few months. Stay and be the one that brings Bree some joy for once.
“Show her how much you love her instead of running from her, running from your feelings. Quit your precious job in California. Sell your fancy condo in the suburbs. Put down roots in Scallop Shores and fight for something, for once in your life.” Anne rose from her stool and skirted the counter, hurrying toward the restroom at the back corner of the store.
Feeling like the biggest jerk in the world, Ryan swiveled around to find his father standing a few feet away. He’d heard the whole conversation. The older man worked his jaw a few times, his mouth slightly open. Ryan could see his tongue moving but nothing came out. Heaving a frustrated sigh, his dad merely nodded. Message received.
He’d straighten out things with Bree just as soon as he found Haley and made her return the money she’d stolen. Snatching up a pen and a notepad beside the register, Ryan began to write down every place he could think of in Los Angeles where his ex-wife might be hiding. He added in a list of mutual acquaintances that the police could contact to see if she’d been in touch.
His mind racing, he felt better than he had in hours. He was being proactive. He was going to help them find Haley and bring her to justice. Then he was going to find Bree and ask her to forgive him for not being there when she lost their baby. They had a lot of time to make up for and he’d be damned if he wasted any more of it trying to run away from confrontation. His mother was right. It was time to stand up and fight.
Chapter 18
This wasn’t the time to feel sorry for herself. Ryan could try to push her away all he wanted, but he needed to know she was there for him. No matter what. Bree threw off her handmade afghan, picked up her mug of tea that had long gone cold and stared disgustedly at the pile of wadded up tissues scattered on the floor. She scuffed to the kitchen in her fuzzy pink bedroom slippers to rinse out her cup, pausing to dash a little cold water on her eyes at the sink.
A timid knocking at the door had her grabbing for a dish towel to blot her eyes. Good. He’d come to his senses and was ready to accept her help. Pulling the towel quickly through a drawer handle, she ran to open the door. She blinked when she realized it wasn’t Ryan.
Wesley hurled himself through the door, throwing his tiny arms about her waist and crying as though his whole world was coming to an end. He was soaked to the bone and his teeth chattered uncontrollably. Bree peeled off his coat, removed his sneakers and lifted his slightly unwieldy eight-year old body to carry him toward the couch. He wrapped his skinny arms tight about her neck, his breath hitching as he snuggled close.
Covering him in the afghan she’d just abandoned, she set him on the couch and left to make him a cup of cocoa. She debated whether or not to call Ryan as she hurried to fix his son a hot drink. But there was a reason Wesley had come to her and not his father. She owed it to him to at least explain himself before she brought Ryan in on this.
She fixed a tray with the hot chocolate, a plate of Girl Scout Thin Mints she’d just gotten the day before, a bag of mini marshmallows, and a spoon. Adding a stack of napkins she carried it out to Wesley, who sat scrunched up in one corner of the couch. Bree set the tray across his lap and sat down on the coffee table to watch as he doctored his drink with the marshmallows.
She waited for him to speak first. But now that he’d stopped crying, Wesley seemed to be trying to figure out whether he was in big trouble or not. He kept his gaze focused on the tray on his lap, twisting at a napkin with one hand and breaking a Thin Mint into little crumbs with the other.
“I might be mistaken, but I could swear school doesn’t let out for a few more hours.” She canted her head to try to catch his eye.
“And you’re supposed to be at the library. I looked for you there first.” Wesley finally looked up, thrusting out his jaw stubbornly.
Touché. Bree sighed.
“So what was so important that you needed to come find me before school let out for the day?”
“The big kids on the playground were being really mean. They were saying that my mom stole my grandfather’s hardware store. Then they were making fun of my dad, calling him a dork for just letting her get away with it. My dad is not a dork!” He looked miserably down at the tray.
“When we were supposed to line up for recess, I snuck out the back. And you know what? They were wrong! I went to the store and it’s there. It’s still there. Why would they say that?” Cupping his hands around the huge mug, he brought it to his mouth and took a few sips.
“Was your dad still at the store, Wes? Did he see you? I’m sure the school has reported you missing and no doubt he’s worried sick.”
“I didn’t think about that.” He frowned.
“Why don’t I call him and tell him you’re here? You don’t have to see him just yet, if you aren’t ready.” She made to pull her phone out of the pocket of her pleated khakis but Wesley put up his hand in a gesture that bordered on desperate.
“Wait! I saw him. But you’re right, he didn’t see me. I heard him talking to Grandma. Bree, it’s real bad. He wants Grandma and Grandpa to come live with us—in our condo in California.”
The poor child was confused. He’d walked in on a conversation already in progress and he wasn’t getting the whole story.
“He said we had to go back. But I don’t want to go. I don’t want to leave you.” Had the tray not been sitting firmly across his legs, Bree was sure he would have launched himself into her arms again. Poor child.
“Okay, well then he feels he doesn’t have a choice, sweetheart. He wouldn’t do this unless he couldn’t think of any other way.” Her heart ached for all of them, herself included.
How did one explain to an eight year old that his mother had sold the family business right out from under his dad and grandparents and then stolen the money? In little Wesley’s world, bad guys were more recognizable, like Voldemort. Bree didn’t have the heart to tell him that his own mother was the evildoer in this case.
“Maybe if we could just ask my mom to take back what she did? Make it all right again?” Wesley looked up hopefully.
“That would be great, Wes. It’s just that your mom isn’t in Scallop Shores anymore. She bought a plane ticket to Los Angeles and that’s a really big city. There is no telling where she is right now.”
“She’s not in Los Angeles. She’s in New Hampshire.” Wesley looked just as confused as she felt.
“What makes you think she’s in New Hampshire?” Everyone knew she wanted to go back to her career, back to the chance for fame and fortune in Hollywood. And New Hampshire was only one state away. If she was looking to hide, wouldn’t it be smarter to give herself a bit more space?
“I heard her on the phone one night. Dad was over here. She was talking to a friend that she used to go to school with. Um ... Willow?” He rubbed at his forehead as he searched for the right name.
“Willow Fox? They were on the cheerleading squad together.” Maybe if they could track down Willow they might have a shot at finding Haley.
“Yeah, that’s the one. My mom said she needed a place to lie low until things died down. Is she not feeling well?”
“You think Willow is living in New Hampshire and that’s where your mom went?” But would Willow still have the same last name? Did they have enough information to track down her address? Maybe her parents were still in town. No, they’d sold their lobster pound and moved to Santa Barbara ages ago.
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“I know that’s where she went. 94281 Badger Falls Road, Chester, New Hampshire,” he recited.
Bree’s jaw dropped. She stared at the boy. How on Earth?
“Wesley?”
“I know. Weird, huh? I’ve noticed that happening more and more lately. I hear something once and it just stays there, in my head. It sticks.” He grinned broadly. “Comes in real handy at school though.”
Wesley had a photographic memory. Holy crap!
“Kiddo, I think you may have just saved the day.”
If she hurried, she could get to Haley first, convince her to return the money. Ryan would see that she was willing to do anything to help him, help his family. Then maybe he’d forgive her for not telling him about the baby. He and Wesley would stay, right? They could still have a chance at making things right.
“Wes, put on your shoes and coat. I’m going to drop you off at the hardware store, assuming your dad is still there.”
“But you’re going to get my mom, aren’t you? I want to help.”
And his father would kill her for driving his child to another state, possibly putting the boy in danger if Haley was feeling cornered.
“Buddy, you’re in deep enough as it is. Don’t forget there are already going to be consequences for leaving school property without telling a teacher.”
“Oh yeah.” Wesley hung his head, pushing at the glasses that started to slide downward.
“Come on. I’ve got a long drive ahead of me.” Bree lifted the tray so Wesley could scoot out from underneath it.
“And Wes? Your dad needs to know where I’ve gone. But he doesn’t need to know right away. Do you understand what I mean? If you could give me a head start, I’d appreciate it. I think your mom would much rather talk to me than the police, don’t you agree?”
The boy nodded gravely and ran to the hallway to put his things back on.
Bree grabbed her purse, checked to see that her phone was charged and shrugged into a raincoat. At the last minute she realized she was still wearing her fuzzy pink slippers. A heroine off to save the day she was not!
Always My Hero Page 20
