by Brenda Novak
“Good Lord, now you’re talking about money? What’s that got to do with finding Skip before it’s too late?”
“If you could just wire enough for me to get Alexa home... Then I’ll explain everything, or as much as I know, anyway.”
There was talking on the other end.
“Sophia?” The phone had switched hands. This was Dale, Skip’s father.
She gripped her cell tighter. “Yes?”
“What the hell’s going on?”
As a rule, men treated her better than women. That was why she typically preferred them. But her father-in-law was a notable exception. “It...it’s unbelievable,” she said and told him what she’d told Sharon.
“My son would never leave his family high and dry,” he said when she’d finished. “It must be foul play, a—a kidnapping.”
“There’s been no ransom note.”
“Then something else happened. He wouldn’t abandon you and Alexa on that damn boat if he’d had a choice.”
A tear dripped down her cheek because she was pretty sure Skip had done exactly that, and she felt terrible for their daughter. How could he promise Alexa a wonderful two weeks at sea as a family—and then disappear?
“You—you’re probably right,” she said but only to get through this phone call without an argument. The more she considered the timing of Skip’s disappearance, the more she believed he’d gone on the run. He had to have known the FBI was closing in on him. Or maybe some of his investors had been pressing him for the fabulous return he’d promised, and he’d run out of excuses.
“Did he have problems with the crew?” his father asked.
Was he talking murder? “No, none. The crew is great. No one would hurt him.”
“Someone must’ve done something, by God! And now you want to leave, to come home without him? When he’s probably in trouble—maybe even stranded in the ocean? He could need your help!”
The lump in Sophia’s throat made speaking an effort. “I told you, I don’t have the money to stay. I—I can’t even provide the necessities for Lex. Think of your granddaughter, please. I need to get her home.”
“Why don’t you have money? This whole thing stinks, Sophia. What is it? What aren’t you telling us?”
She dropped her head, resting it in her free hand. She realized that this conversation couldn’t wait, after all. “The FBI has frozen our bank accounts, Dale.”
“Let go of the phone,” he told his wife. Then he spoke into the receiver again. “Did you say FBI?”
She sighed. “I’m afraid so.”
“Why would the FBI freeze your accounts? The FBI doesn’t do that unless...unless—”
“Unless they have reason,” she finished for him. “They claim Skip’s been defrauding his investors.”
“What?”
“It’s true. They’ve frozen all the money so they can return as much as possible. But Kelly tells me that’ll be a nominal amount, if any at all.”
“This is bullshit!” he exploded. “My boy would never cheat a soul. He doesn’t need to cheat. Everything he touches turns to gold. You’ve seen what he’s done, what he’s provided for you.”
Had he been breaking the law all along? Or just recently? “I hope he’s innocent, like you say. And I hope we can prove it.”
“You do? Really? Because you sound beaten.” His voice grated. “Don’t you have any confidence in him?”
“I only know what Kelly told me, Dale, and he said the FBI plans to bring Skip up on fraud charges for mishandling the SLD Fund.”
There was a brief silence. “No way. Not the SLD Fund. That fund’s making great money. I saw a report last month.”
A wave of unease swept through Sophia. “Why would you see a report? You didn’t invest in it...” Skip wouldn’t defraud his own parents, would he?
“I sure did,” his father said proudly. “I put my life savings into that fund. So did almost everyone else in Whiskey Creek. And when they see how fast my boy will double their money, they’re going to be damn glad they did.”
Sophia started laughing. And once she started, she couldn’t stop, not until she was crying instead.
“Sophia? Sophia, stop it!” Dale barked. “Are you drunk?”
That got her attention. “No,” she said. “I haven’t had a drop.”
“Then what’s wrong with you?”
Sniffing, she wiped her eyes. “Whether you want to believe it or not, your boy is gone,” she said. “And so is the money you and everyone else invested.”
4
Two days later, on Sunday, which was as soon as they could make the arrangements, Sharon and Dale met Sophia and Alexa at the airport. Her in-laws were drawn and pale, and Sophia knew she looked no better. She wheeled her luggage out to the car, while her daughter did the same, her hair smashed on one side from when she’d leaned against the wall of the plane, trying to get some sleep.
“Thank you for helping us get home,” Sophia said. “And for sending enough money for the crew to return with the Legacy.” She had no doubt the FBI would confiscate the yacht once it was safely docked. The agent who’d been dealing with Kelly, Special Agent Freeman, had contacted her when she was about to board the plane. She’d told him she couldn’t help find Skip. And he’d told her the government had seized everything of any value except the house. Since there was no equity in it, 910 Wonderland Drive wouldn’t be worth their time.
Thank God for small favors. At least she and Alexa would be able to stay in familiar surroundings until the bank kicked them out. How long that would be, Sophia couldn’t even guess. She had more pressing matters to worry about before she got to that. The way Agent Freeman had questioned her made Sophia believe he suspected her of being a party to Skip’s fraudulent activities—and when they’d hung up, he’d seemed far from convinced that she wasn’t. He kept asking her how much she knew about her husband’s business, implying that Skip couldn’t have done everything he’d done without her knowledge. Because California was a community property state, the law held her accountable for any debts he’d incurred, so her credit was going to be ruined, too.
The DeBussis hugged Alexa, then turned immediately to helping with the luggage.
“Of course we were going to make sure you got home. We would never strand our granddaughter,” Dale said tightly.
Sophia tried not to be hurt by the fact that they hadn’t greeted her quite as warmly. Maybe she hadn’t been the perfect wife. No one admired an alcoholic. But she had been part of the DeBussi family for thirteen years, since shortly after she’d found out she was pregnant with Lex. She felt she deserved a little kindness. “Since I love Alexa, too, I appreciate it,” she said.
Other than a few comments about the weather and the length of the trip, they drove the hundred and thirty miles to “The Heart of Gold Country” in silence. Sophia knew her in-laws didn’t want to discuss Skip’s situation in Lexi’s presence; neither did she. She hadn’t told her daughter that he was wanted by the police. She’d simply said there’d been a mix-up at work and perhaps he’d gone somewhere to take care of the problem.
“Do you think Alexa should come home with us?” Sharon asked when they reached the top of “DeBussi Hill” and pulled into the circular drive.
Judging by the look her daughter shot her, Alexa didn’t want to go. She was probably as eager to sleep in her own bed as Sophia was. Besides, Sophia didn’t want to be alone. All the sudden changes had left her reeling. “Not tonight.”
Sharon twisted around in her seat. “Why not?”
That her mother-in-law would challenge her answer made Sophia grit her teeth for a second. Sharon didn’t show her the proper respect because Skip had always discounted Sophia’s opinion. But she managed to respond in a normal voice. “The trip’s been hard on both of us. We’re worried about Skip and feel we should be here in case he calls.”
“Okay, but you won’t drink tonight, will you? With all the stress you’re under—” she narrowed her eyes “—I would
n’t want you to resort to your old tricks.”
Tricks? Sophia glanced at her daughter. She hated having Alexa hear that. “I haven’t had a drink since I went into New Beginnings.”
“Or so she says,” Dale muttered under his breath. “If that was true, maybe she’d have a clearer memory of...certain details.”
Like where their son had gone or what had happened to him. She understood that. But she didn’t dignify the remark with a response for fear he’d try to make her look worse. She didn’t want Alexa to blame her, to believe alcohol was the reason she had no idea when Skip had gotten up or where he might’ve gone. “Thanks again.”
When they drove away, Sophia stared after them. If Skip didn’t come back, she’d have to continue dealing with his parents on her own, and she could tell that wouldn’t be any easier than dealing with the FBI.
“You coming?” Alexa spoke as she climbed the steps to the elaborately carved front doors Skip had purchased abroad.
“Right behind you.” Normally, she would’ve stopped to admire the Halloween decorations she’d put up before they left. She loved the holidays, from Halloween to Christmas. But tonight none of that seemed important.
She bumped her suitcase up the steps because she was too tired to carry it, and let them in. The house smelled of grapefruit and mango from the expensive candles Sophia liked to burn.
“Home at last,” she breathed.
“If only Dad was home with us,” Lexi mumbled and, head bowed, started for her room.
“No kiss good-night?” Sophia called after her.
Dropping her suitcase onto the marble floor with a resounding bang, she came hurrying back. “I’m sorry, Momma. I’m just... It hurts. I’m afraid I’ll never see him again.”
“I know.” She held her daughter tight, wishing she loved Skip as much as Lexi did. At least now she wanted him back—for their daughter’s sake and because living with him, difficult as it was, would probably be easier than solving the problems he’d left behind. “Let’s get some sleep,” she said as she straightened.
After Alexa had settled in, Sophia went to bed telling herself that it would all get better in the morning. But the call that woke her in the middle of the night told her it was only going to get worse.
* * *
Ted Dixon almost didn’t attend Friday morning coffee with his friends. It was a ritual, something he looked forward to all week. As a novelist, he sat in front of his computer for hours every day, didn’t get out of the house very often. And he’d known most of the people he met at Black Gold since he was in grade school. He always enjoyed seeing them. But after the shocking news that had swept through town the past week, he could easily guess what the topic of conversation would be, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to participate. Everyone would be studying him, trying to ascertain his reaction—and although he’d had plenty of practice at pretending he wasn’t interested in anything to do with his old flame, he felt that some of his friends could see through him.
On the other hand, if he didn’t go, they’d likely figure out why. Not showing up might give away more than joining the group as if this Friday was no different from any other.
“Hey, you made it.” Callie Pendleton, a photographer by trade, was the first to greet him. She’d had a liver transplant a year and a half ago, but no one would’ve been able to tell. She looked as healthy and robust as any other woman. Levi, her husband, was in line to order, along with Riley Stinson, a building contractor who had a fourteen-year-old son but had never married.
“Why wouldn’t I make it?” he asked, pretending to be unaware of the added interest he was about to face.
“You haven’t heard?” This came from Noah Rackham, who was nursing a cappuccino while sitting next to Adelaide, his pregnant wife. Noah had recently retired from professional cycling, which had taken him to Europe for half of every year. But he still owned Crank It Up, the bike shop in town. To help her aging grandmother, Adelaide ran the diner, Just Like Mom’s—an institution in Whiskey Creek.
Ted hadn’t known Levi or Adelaide very well until they’d started coming to coffee. The same could be said for Brandon Lucero and his wife, Olivia. They were younger, had been behind them in school. Callie, Riley, Kyle, Eve and Noah were the people Ted had grown up with, as well as several others who normally came but weren’t here today.
“Heard what?” Ted strolled over to the table and slouched into his usual seat. “Don’t tell me Baxter’s not coming back for the Halloween party.” Baxter was one of their closest friends, someone who used to have coffee with them every week, but he’d moved to San Francisco a few months ago.
“This year the party’s at Cheyenne and Dylan’s, isn’t it?” Adelaide asked.
“Last I heard,” Callie said. “I don’t know why they’re not here today.” She glanced at the entrance as if she expected them to walk in any second.
“Chey went to visit her sister this morning,” Eve informed them. Eve and Chey both worked at the B and B owned by Eve’s parents, so they stayed in close touch. “But she and Dylan will be at the Halloween party and so will Baxter. I called him last night. He said he’s coming.”
“How does he like his new digs?” Ted asked.
Noah broke in before Eve could answer. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Don’t charge down that path. You know I wasn’t referring to Bax when I asked if you’d heard the news.”
Ted eyed the crowd at the register. He wasn’t a man with a lot of patience. He preferred to sit and talk until he saw an opening and wouldn’t have to wait, but today he should’ve gotten in line. That might have provided him with a buffer. Maybe they would have covered Sophia’s situation and gotten embroiled in some other gossip before he returned with his usual—a cup of Black Gold’s finest fresh-roasted coffee. “If you’re talking about Skip DeBussi, of course I heard.”
“That his body washed up on the shore of Brazil?” Noah asked.
“It’s in all the papers, isn’t it?” Ted said. “AOL even had something about it online.”
“And?” Noah prompted. “Don’t you have any reaction?”
“I’m sorry for his parents and his daughter, if that’s what you’re after.”
Riley came back from the counter with a giant muffin, a fruit-and-yogurt parfait and an apple. Apparently, he planned to eat it all himself; his son was in school so he wouldn’t be sharing it as he did during the summer. “You’re sorry for everyone but his wife?” he asked, quickly picking up on the conversation.
Ted tried not to picture Sophia’s face. He’d never seen a more beautiful woman. She turned heads, including his, wherever she went. He hated that she still had the power to affect him and often reminded himself that her beauty was only skin-deep. “I’m sure she’ll manage. She always seems to land on her feet.”
Callie frowned. “You’re so hard on her. I won’t argue that Sophia was a...a difficult personality in high school, but—”
“A difficult personality?” he echoed. “She was the meanest girl Eureka High has ever seen. She stole other girls’ boyfriends, toyed with the guys she collected, manipulated anyone who’d let her and used her power and popularity to lord it over the less fortunate. You can feel bad for her all you want, but let’s not forget the facts.” He left out that she also had a slew of good qualities. That she’d been sexy and funny and determined and just mysterious enough to keep him guessing. At one time she was all he’d ever wanted. He expected someone to call him on that, but no one did.
“People grow up,” Riley said. “She seemed nice when she was coming to coffee.”
Because they hadn’t given her the chance to be anything else. Ted was glad she’d changed her mind about trying to be part of their group. He didn’t think she should have the right to hang out with them after behaving so badly, and he’d made sure she knew it. “Don’t let those big blue eyes fool you.”
Callie shot him a quelling look. “Ted, she just lost her husband. Can’t you have some sympathy?”
No. He co
uldn’t. He needed to keep up his defenses, because he knew where any softening would lead. He’d tried to rescue her once before. It’d been years since then, but he’d learned his lesson. “Like I said, I feel bad for her daughter and Skip’s parents. Losing a son or father would be hard, but finding out he cheated almost everyone in town and then died trying to fake his own death so he could start a new life somewhere else...” He’d never liked Skip, but he hadn’t expected him to do anything quite that bad.
“Skip died trying to fake his own death?” Levi sat down with some coffee and a yogurt he slid in front of Callie. “Last I knew, they were assuming it might’ve been an accident—that he fell off the boat and drowned.”
“It was no accident,” Ted responded. “No one ‘falls’ off a yacht with a waterproof bag containing a disposable, non-traceable cell phone, a change of clothes and a hundred thousand dollars in cash strapped to his back. What you saw must’ve been before news of the FBI probe broke. I doubt anyone would’ve been leaning toward ‘accident’ if they’d possessed that little detail. Maybe suicide,” he added.
Brandon poured a packet of sugar into his coffee. “So he meant to go overboard, was prepared for it. Why didn’t he survive?”
Ted shrugged. “No one knows. They’re speculating he had some sort of flotation device that he lost for whatever reason. Maybe he encountered a shark or some rocks or fell asleep and slipped out of it. Or he might have given it up, thinking he could move faster without it. Maybe he underestimated the distance to shore or his ability to fight the currents.”
Noah finished his cappuccino. “I could see him doing that. He’s always been over-confident.”
“What he’s done, to everyone, is terrible.” Olivia wiped the condensation from her orange juice. “Especially little Alexa. How will Sophia ever explain that he died trying to skate out on them?”
Ted shifted to one side so he could cross his ankles without getting in anyone’s way. “I’m just glad I didn’t invest, and I hope none of you guys did, either.”
