Take Me Home for Christmas wc-5

by Brenda Novak

  He’d said it flippantly. He hadn’t really believed any of his friends would be victims, but when Kyle and Noah exchanged a glance, Ted sat up straight. “Tell me you didn’t.”

  “He talked a good talk,” Noah said, his face turning red. “I mean, look at his house. Look at the cars he drives and all the trips he takes—or used to take. I thought he knew what the hell he was doing.”

  “He did!” Ted said with a laugh. “He got you to invest, didn’t he?”

  Kyle’s expression was just as chagrined as Noah’s but he came out fighting. “Don’t be so damn smug, Ted. The only reason you kept your distance was because you didn’t want to give Skip the pleasure of thinking he had anything you appreciated or admired.”

  That was true. Like almost everyone else, he’d been tempted by the promise of easy money, especially when so many people he respected seemed to be jumping at the opportunity. It was Skip’s connection to Sophia that had stopped him.

  For once his history with her was actually in his favor. “Doesn’t matter what saved me, I didn’t invest.” He leaned his elbows on the table. “So how much did you two lose?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” Noah said. Kyle didn’t answer.

  “You didn’t give him a lot, did you?”

  Obviously defensive of the man she loved, Adelaide put an arm around her husband. “You didn’t do anything wrong, honey. He did. I bet lots of people in Whiskey Creek lost more than you.”

  “I hope not,” Noah said, aghast. “What hurts the most is that I turned him down the first couple of times he called. Addie and I have had a rough year, as you guys know. But once our personal problems cleared up, the oily bastard offered me ‘the opportunity’ again. And he made it sound so...safe and lucrative.” He pushed the table, which was crowding him, a few inches away. “I had every reason to believe him. He’s been the richest man in town for years. None of us drive a Ferrari or have our asses chauffeured to work.”

  “You want a chauffeur to drive you ten feet from your door to your bike shop?” Levi teased.

  “No, but I’ll take one of the Ferraris.”

  “Too bad he’s not alive so I could punch him out,” Kyle grumbled.

  “Come on, how much did you guys lose?” Ted eyed Noah, since he’d had him in his sights first.

  Noah flipped him off, but then relented. “What the hell. I admit I was a stupid sucker. Fifty thousand. I lost fifty grand.”

  The way he said it showed how humiliated he was.

  Brandon whistled; Callie dropped her spoon. “That’s a lot!” she exclaimed. “Maybe Levi and I should be glad for my medical bills. We didn’t have enough money for him to bother with us.”

  Ted turned to Kyle. “And you? How much did you lose?”

  “Kiss my ass,” Kyle replied, his nose in his cup.

  “Noah just gave us a figure,” Brandon said.

  Kyle scowled at him. “So? I’m not telling.”

  Ted couldn’t help smiling at his petulant response. That meant he’d lost even more than Noah. “I’m sure there’ll be a list of victims in the paper at some point.”

  “Then you can just wait and read about what a damn fool I was,” he said flatly.

  Riley leaned forward so he could catch Kyle’s eye. “Your business has been doing great. Why would you invest with DeBussi?”

  “The demand for solar panels is going up. I wanted to expand the factory, but I guess I’ll be putting that off for a while.”

  Ted tapped Brandon’s calf with one foot to get his attention. “I’m surprised he didn’t come to you, too, Mr. Extreme Skier. I’m sure he knows you made some money in your heyday.”

  Brandon’s mouth curved in a self-satisfied grin.

  “What?” Kyle said, cluing in.

  “He did come to me,” Brandon told him. “Last time he was in town. I passed on the offer.”

  “Shit!” Kyle smacked the table, rattling the silverware. “Are you kidding me?”

  Brandon rocked back at this unhappy response, but he was chuckling when he did. “What? You wish I’d gotten ripped off, too?”

  “Pretty much,” Kyle mumbled.

  “Misery loves company, huh?”

  Everybody laughed except Kyle. It was always interesting to watch him interact with his stepbrother, to see how they got along, particularly since Brandon married the woman Kyle had wanted. Every once in a while, Ted saw Kyle look at Olivia with a touch of longing. It made him sad because he knew he did the same thing with Sophia, even though he professed to hate her.

  Brandon polished off his second doughnut, which he must’ve bought on the way in, because Black Gold didn’t sell doughnuts. “Yeah, well, thanks for that, big brother.”

  Kyle didn’t have a chance to respond. Olivia spoke up. “Do you think...”

  When she paused, everyone waited expectantly. “What?” Riley asked.

  She winced as if she hated saying what she was about to suggest. “Do you think Sophia could’ve known what Skip was doing?”

  “No.” Callie shook her head, adamant. “Sophia wouldn’t go along with him cheating anyone, especially the people here in town.”

  “I don’t think so, either,” Riley said. “It was all Skip. The guy had no shame. I heard he scammed his own parents. Took them for their retirement, their savings, everything.”

  Olivia shoved the tinfoil lid of her orange juice into the plastic cup. “That’s tragic, but I’ve never been a fan of the DeBussis.”

  “Who could be a fan of his brother?” Brandon asked. “That dude’s a mess.”

  “I wasn’t talking about Colby,” she told him. “At least Colby doesn’t act as if he’s better than everyone else. It’s Skip’s parents who swagger around this town like they own it. You’ve seen them—in the Fourth of July parade, showing off their fancy cars.” She took a bite of the coffee cake she’d been sharing with Brandon. “Still, I would never have wished anything like this on them.”

  “What’s Sophia going to do?” Callie asked, her voice filled with concern. “From what I’ve heard, Skip took all the money they had left, and now that the feds have his cash, they won’t give her a cent of it. How will she get by?”

  Ted got the impression she was asking him—maybe because she glanced in his direction. “How would I know?”

  “She’ll have to go to work to support her daughter,” Kyle said.

  Riley disagreed. “No, her in-laws will help.”

  “I don’t think they can,” Eve said. “Not after this.”

  Levi set his cup down. “He ripped them off that badly?”

  Eve gave him a helpless look. “From what I’ve heard. I doubt Sophia has many options. That’s why I encouraged her to apply for Ted’s housekeeper position.”

  Ted nearly fell off his chair. “You what?”

  “Well, I didn’t actually speak to her,” Eve said with a sheepish expression. “I just...left a message telling her that might be an option.”

  “Well, it’s not an option,” Ted snapped. “That position’s not open to her.”

  “Why not?” Callie asked, immediately taking Eve’s side.

  “Forget it.” He waved her off. “She’s been a kept woman her whole life. She probably doesn’t know the first thing about scrubbing toilets and making dinner.”

  “I don’t think she’s ever had a housekeeper,” Callie pointed out.

  She’d had the money to hire an army of domestic servants. “I bet she’s had one all along,” he argued. “Besides, I’m offering $2,500 a month. That wouldn’t even cover her spa treatments.”

  “You wouldn’t give her a chance if she applied?” Eve asked.

  “I don’t have to answer that because she’ll never apply. I’m sure she’ll find another sugar daddy before life gets too grim, even if it means moving away.” He hoped she would leave town. Then there’d be no more risk of bumping into her when he went out. He’d spent years trying to avoid her.

  Thankfully, Olivia shifted the focus of the
conversation. It was a slight shift but at least his friends were no longer suggesting he employ his ex-girlfriend. “Does anyone know when the funeral will be?”

  “Skip only washed up a couple of days ago,” Ted replied. “I doubt they’ve set a date, considering it’ll take some time to get the body home from Brazil.”

  Kyle hooked an arm around the back of his chair. “If anyone’s interested, the funeral should be announced in the Gold Country Gazette.”

  “That’s a weekly,” Noah said. “It wouldn’t be the place to go for information if they decide to have it soon.”

  “Word spreads like wildfire in this town,” Brandon told them. “I’m sure we’ll hear about it.”

  Riley gazed around at the group. “Who’s planning to go? Kyle and I aren’t. That’s for damn sure. I bet Noah won’t, either.”

  Noah confirmed that with a muttered, “Hell, no.”

  “What about the rest of you?” Riley asked.

  Ted raised both hands. “Don’t look at me.”

  “I’ll go, to support Sophia.” Callie wiped her mouth with a napkin.

  “Me, too. It’s not like any of this is her fault.” Eve sent Ted an accusing glare.

  “You don’t know that,” Ted insisted. She’d certainly stirred up enough trouble in high school. She’d also stirred his heart—and a lower part of his body—but he didn’t like to acknowledge that these days.

  “We’re giving her the benefit of the doubt,” Callie said. “You should try it sometime. Anyway, I’m guessing Gail will go, too.” Gail DeMarco-O’Neal had grown up in Whiskey Creek, but she’d left for college and never moved back. After starting her own PR firm in Los Angeles, she’d married one of her clients—box-office hit Simon O’Neal—and was so busy she didn’t visit often.

  “Since when did Gail become friends with Sophia?” Ted didn’t remember any type of rapport between them. Sophia had been part of a rival clique, was actually the leader of it—until the girls who were part of her posse moved away.

  Eve cocked an eyebrow at him. “Gail invited Sophia to her wedding, remember?”

  Seeing that the line to order food was gone, Ted stood up, intending to get his coffee. “I remember, but I thought it was strange then, and I think it’s strange now.”

  Callie folded her arms. “Why?”

  “Because Scott Harris was her big brother’s best friend. She knew him well.”

  “I don’t think you can hold Sophia responsible for what happened to Scott,” Callie said. “She didn’t force him to drive drunk.”

  He pulled out his wallet. “If it wasn’t for her, he wouldn’t have left the party.”

  Callie wasn’t about to back down. “She was sixteen or seventeen, Ted. She made a mistake.”

  “Oh, well. Actions have consequences. Ask Scott’s family about that the next time you see them, okay?” He’d given in to Callie’s kind of thinking once before, and Sophia had made him sorry he had.

  “She probably never dreamed her actions would lead where they did.” Callie crumpled the napkin she’d used and dropped it on her plate. “Haven’t you ever done anything you regret?”

  He was already on his way to the counter, so he left her question unanswered. But he had done something he regretted.

  He regretted ever getting involved with Sophia.

  5

  As Sophia had expected, hardly anyone attended the funeral. And those who came didn’t have much to say. They filed past the casket, somber and subdued. Some managed a nod for her or Skip’s parents. No one smiled but neither did anyone cry. Even Sophia didn’t know how to act. Should she behave like the grieving widow? Or the hurt and angry spouse?

  She told herself to behave as she honestly felt for a change. She was done with pretending. But Agent Freeman was there, watching her every move, every expression, and it made her nervous. How would he interpret what he saw? Would something she said or did make him decide that she was as guilty as her husband? He couldn’t understand how Skip could do so much without her knowledge, but he had no idea what their marriage had been like.

  Now she regretted telling the Brazilian police that they’d been happy together, that they’d been close.

  When she twisted around to see who might’ve come in late, her eyes met Freeman’s almost immediately, and she turned back. She hated having him there. But she couldn’t have been honest with her emotions, anyway, or she would’ve seemed crazy—because she felt a little of everything. There were moments when she mourned the fact that she and Skip hadn’t been happy together, that it had come down to this. Moments when she was grateful he was gone, that she no longer had to fear him. Moments when she felt so incredibly angry that she hoped he’d spend an eternity in hell for betraying them, especially after getting her hopes up with such beautiful promises of change and fresh commitment.

  She’d muddled through the past ten days by focusing on doing what she could to shield Alexa, and by staying busy making arrangements for the return of Skip’s body. She’d tried to arrange the funeral, too, but his parents hadn’t liked some of her decisions, so they took over. That bothered her—they were always bossy and superior. The way they treated her made her want to drink. But her concern for her daughter had kept her off the booze. Her concern for Alexa had also enabled her to tell Agent Freeman that his interrogation would have to wait until she’d given Lex the chance to say goodbye to her father. She wanted to commemorate the things Skip had done right in his life, so the young girl he’d left behind wouldn’t have to be completely devastated by his shortcomings and mistakes.

  Unfortunately, however, the eulogy offered scant comfort. The clergyman, Rudy Flores, had known Skip all his life. This was where they’d gone to church every week, mostly at Skip’s insistence. He’d demanded she attend whether he was home or not. But the reverend was obviously as disappointed in him as everyone else. Flores kept his comments almost entirely generic. Although he didn’t refer to Skip’s illegal and unethical activities, neither did he spare him any praise.

  Sophia sat in her black Chanel dress, Manolo Blahnik heels and the Dolce & Gabbana sunglasses she’d put on to hide the redness of her eyes, and clasped her hands tightly in her lap. With her hair slicked back in a bun at her nape, she knew she looked like an ice princess. But she was doing her best to cope, didn’t want anyone to know that she was shaking inside. If they understood how vulnerable she was, they might set on her en masse, like vultures. After what Skip had done, there were plenty of people in Whiskey Creek who were looking for a target. She had the feeling they’d be more than happy to pick her bones. Her own reputation wasn’t helping. Thanks to her past mistakes, there was no one to champion her, no one to insist that she was too good a person to have cooperated with Skip.

  “...just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in the newness of life....”

  Reverend Flores’s voice droned on, but Sophia tuned him out. She didn’t want to hear what he was saying, didn’t want to think about Skip being resurrected. She doubted anyone here—even his brokenhearted daughter and parents—would be too pleased to see him in the afterlife. She wouldn’t. This was one time she wanted to believe that dead was dead. The sight of Alexa sitting beside her with tears dripping into her lap convinced her that Skip had had enough second chances. How often had she forgiven his violent outbursts and agreed to try again?

  “Are you okay?” she whispered.

  When Alexa nodded, Sophia slid an arm around her. She wished she could’ve kept her from learning the ugly truth, but there’d been no way to preserve her innocence, not with the whole town talking about how Skip had used and tricked and cheated everyone. It was in the papers. It was on the news. It was on the internet, where strangers with various screen names like “chubbydate” and “village-itch” had posted nasty comments about how “vain” and “arrogant” she and Skip were to think they could “get away with it.” “The wife has to be involved,” some claimed. “It takes money to keep a w
oman as beautiful as that. He probably figured he’d lose her if he didn’t give her the world.”

  Their lives had been torn apart in the most public manner possible, the wreckage strewn for all to see. Some kids, or maybe adults, had even thrown eggs at their house two nights ago.

  “We could move,” she whispered in Alexa’s ear. The idea of a fresh start gave Sophia hope, but this suggestion just elicited more tears from her daughter.

  “No, Mom. Please!” she begged. “I—I don’t want to go. I can’t leave my friends, and Grandma and Grandpa, and Uncle Colby and my cousins.”

  Sophia could understand why. Whiskey Creek was all Alexa had ever known. It was all Sophia had known, too. But that made it harder to face the many people Skip had wronged, especially when the presence of Agent Freeman seemed to signify that she might be as guilty as Skip. The longer he remained in town, asking his insidious questions, the more convinced everyone became that she’d been living the high life at their expense. Someone online had even accused her of having a “bundle” tucked away.

  She wished she did have some money in a safe place. Then she really could move, providing she could persuade Alexa. As it was, Sophia wasn’t sure how she’d be able to scrape together the funds that relocating would require. She could sell her household furnishings and her wardrobe. They’d been expensive to begin with, but used items of that kind didn’t retain their value. In any case, as soon as she sold her belongings, there’d be people lining up to get the money.

  “Okay,” she murmured, reassuring Alexa with a quick squeeze. “I just... I thought I’d make the offer.”

  “So we’ll stay?” Alexa confirmed. “You promise?”

  “We’ll stay.” At least as long as she could hang on to the house. The cars would go first. She had no way of making the payments. She’d learned this past week that every single one had a loan against it. So did the yacht. Sophia had tried to track down her wedding ring, but there was no record of where Skip might’ve taken it, and it was nowhere to be found in the house or the cars.