The man beside him looked more like a rat, with wide front teeth, a squashed nose and watery eyes. His hair was thinning on the top of his head, which he had tried to comb over with the rest of his hair. The bag in his hands had the words Private Investigator stitched into the leather.
His eyes lingered on me a little too long and the smirk that followed made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
“What’s going on?” I asked Dad. I looked up at him and was surprised to see how pale he was, standing there in the driveway, staring at them.
In a flash, I realized he knew who they were. And he was not happy about it.
“Oh, this must be your husband. And your daughter?” Armani guy asked, as if he had just noticed us. “My goodness, she's pretty, isn’t she? Just like her mother.”
I moved to stand next to Dad, who was watching the men apprehensively. He wanted them to know that he was there, that he was watching and listening to everything that they did and said. He put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close to him as we made our way up the front walk.
Armani gave Dad one of the fakest smiles that I’d ever seen and turned back to Mom, who was now seething, all trace of the fear I'd seen before gone.
“I hope you know that I’m making you a very generous offer,” Armani said, his hook nose bobbling. It looked like it had been broken a time or two. Or maybe it was just malformed. He flashed a mirthless grin. “But it won’t last forever. Because sooner or later, these clients of yours are going to know that you've taken advantage of them —”
Mom’s eyes flashed and she straightened. “I don’t need your help,” she said.
“Oh, really?” said Armani. “What if your partners find out, hmm? You could lose your bar license. Be banned from practicing law ever again.” He made an appraising look at the house. “You could lose...” He looked over at me. “Everything.”
My skin crawled at his words. Who was this guy?
A nagging voice in the back of my mind made me ask myself about the possibility of them being right, that Mom did do something that could get her disbarred.
No way. Mom was such a stickler for ethics that she never would’ve crossed any lines like that…
Right?
Mom folded her arms across her chest. “Are you threatening my family?” she asked, her eyes flashing.
Oh, crap. They made her put on her lawyer face. This was not going to end well for them.
“Of course not,” said Armani, laughing. He sounded like a monkey. “All we want is to help you right the wrongs that have been committed.”
Mom’s face colored. I could see it even from where I was standing in the driveway. The sound of some boys playing basketball down the street filled the uncomfortable silence between Mom and the men on the doorsteps, the steady echo of a basketball against concrete punctuating the silence.
“Yes, well…” she said uncomfortably. “Thank you for your time.” She was not thankful. She was lying through her teeth. “Now, if you would please leave, it’s dinner time and I haven’t seen my family all day. Goodbye.” And then she slammed the door in their faces.
The men registered surprise, but they weren’t particularly upset by it. They bent their heads together, whispering in voices so low that I couldn’t hear what they were saying, then both turned and glanced at Dad and I, like we were intruders on their planning session.
“Come on,” Dad said to me and he put his hand on my back, steering me toward the door into the garage.
The men watched us as we slipped inside and I was glad that Dad was with me. I'd have hated to use any of Mill's sweet martial arts moves on them given that they seemed human, albeit annoying. I debated asking him what the hell was going on, but the look on his face stopped me. He looked strained, like he had aged ten years in seconds.
Whatever those guys were here for had upset him just as much as Mom.
What in the world was going on with Mom? Did this have something to do with whatever she was trying to hide from me the other day? The stacks of files, the strain in her eyes…
And what did those guys mean about the clients who’d been taken advantage of?
What happened? What had she done?
Whatever it was…Mom was in deep.
Chapter 33
We stepped inside the house and I heard Mom scraping something from a skillet into the garbage can. There was a layer of smoke hovering near the ceiling, the smell of burned chicken and garlic heavy in the air and I covered my nose.
“Honey, what happened?” Dad asked.
Mom still had high spots of color in her cheeks as we entered the kitchen, and she was running the burned skillet under the tap in the sink. “Those…men showed up here,” she said, scrubbing furiously at the pot with a steel wool scrubber. “They had the audacity to try and get me to file for —” She saw me standing there and clamped her mouth shut.
“What, I don’t get to know why there was some scuzzy PI on the doorstep when I get home?” I asked, shrugging off my backpack and putting it on the ground. “And honestly, having Private Investigator printed on your bag? That's like me having High School Student on mine.”
Mom ignored me. “Why do you have blood all over the sleeve of your shirt?” she asked, grabbing Dad’s wrist. “And you, young lady.” She turned burning eyes on me. “I got a call from the school today saying you ditched class. Where did you go?”
“She actually has a pretty good reason this time,” Dad said, white knighting for me.
“Oh, really?” Mom snapped.
“My friend’s dad is a werewolf, he kidnapped my friend and I was trying to find him,” I said, not sure that would play out as a 'good reason', but at least it was true. “Dad helped me get his mom patched up after she was attacked.”
Mom blanched. She opened her mouth to speak, but I jumped in first.
“I wanna know what’s going on here, Mom. What did you do that could get you dis-barred?” I asked.
“It’s none of your business,” Mom said, starting to dab at the sleeve of Dad’s shirt with a cold, wet paper towel.
“Honey, I thought you said that you had handled all of this,” Dad said. I could hear an edge to his voice.
“I'm handling it,” she said. “It's just taking more effort than I thought.”
I frowned at the two of them. “Dad, you were just saying how much of an adult I was. How come I can’t know what’s going on with all of this? I’m a part of this family, too, you know. And with everything we’ve gone through together —”
“Obviously things are not handled,” Dad said, also ignoring me. “A private investigator? That’s serious. If they end up telling your partners —”
“They won’t tell them,” Mom said, letting Dad go and throwing the paper towel into the trash before returning to the skillet in the sink.
“Tell them what?” I asked. “Mom, I heard them say something about your clients and how you took advantage of them —”
“I —” Mom turned, pointing a soapy spatula at me. Some of the suds dripped off the end and hit the linoleum floor. “I didn’t take advantage of them.”
My eyes narrowed. “You just lied to me, didn’t you?” Anger flared in me. “You can lie to me when you made such a big deal about me lying to you?”
“I did not lie,” she said acidly. “I’m just not telling you the whole story.”
“What did you do?” I asked. “Overbill them? Steal from them —”
I froze as Dad’s face gave it away. His eyes widened and he glanced at Mom. And then he realized what he’d done. Mom was rubbing her forehead.
“Holy crap, Mom.” I couldn't quite get my brain around this. “You stole from your clients?”
It hit me like an avalanche. There were some things in my life that were constant and always were going to be constant. One, my parents were together and always would be. Two, I was the only child. Three, Dad was a doctor, Mom was a lawyer and they both were really good at their jobs. Mom and Dad were good people. They car
ed about others, they donated money to charities, they recycled, they never smoked and only drank alcohol on holidays.
And they didn’t steal or cheat in any capacity.
“Cassie…” Mom pinched the bridge of her nose. “This is why I didn’t want you to know. You don't understand.”
The jig was up. I knew the truth. Finally, I knew the truth.
“How long?” I asked, my hands balling into fists.
“Cass —”
“How long?” I asked, even louder. “How long have you been stealing from your clients?”
She hesitated and I could see that she was fighting between being devastated and furious.
Fury won.
“Ever since the insurance company decided that having two house fires due to unsolved arson in two different states were suspicious enough to deny our claims,” she said, unloading on me with one brief, devastating salvo.
Another kick to the gut. “Wait, what?”
Dad sighed, then nodded. “They denied our claim for the cost of the house repairs here in Florida.”
“But it wasn’t our fault,” I said. “It was the —”
“The vampires,” Mom said, a glint of burning, irritated triumph in her eye. “I know. But I can’t very well tell them that, can I?”
There was a moment of silence as the truth settled over me. “So it was my fault…” I said, some of the anger fizzling out. “We’re broke…and it’s my fault.”
“Cass, we've seen what those vampires are capable of,” Dad said. “We know that you weren’t the one who started the fire —”
“But if you hadn’t gotten involved with them in the first place —” Mom said, talking over Dad.
“Like I had any control over it,” I said, glaring at her. “Byron picked me, okay? I didn't go looking for him. He saw me and – whatever. I didn't choose this. Any of this.”
“Cassie, we know that it wasn’t your fault, but we’re still in this situation because of these vampires setting fire to our homes,” Dad said.
“You’re lucky that no one in New York knew that it was you that started the fire at the nature preserve,” Mom said. “Because we'd be in a lot deeper trouble if —”
“I’ve been doing everything I can to take on extra shifts so we can pay the contractors that are fixing the house in the time being,” Dad said. He turned to Mom. “But I still can’t understand why you felt the need to borrow from your clients —”
“I had it all figured out,” Mom said, throwing the sponge into the empty sink and drying off her hands on a dishtowel as if she was trying to strangle it. “I was going to borrow the funds for a few weeks and put it back in after we had paid off all our debts and finalized the legal action with the insurance company —”
“Are you suing the insurance company, too?” I asked.
Mom rolled her eyes. “No, but I’m threatening it, because they can’t just drop us on a ‘feeling’,” she said.
“Mom, this is insane, you know that, right?” I asked.
“It isn’t insane if it is going to help us rebuild our house and keep being able to afford to feed you,” she said, her eyes narrow, angry slits.
“But have you paid any of that money back yet?” Dad asked.
She rounded on him with a groan of frustration. “No, I haven’t, because I had to pay the painters today.”
“Okay, but do you have a plan to start putting that money back?” Dad asked.
“Of course,” Mom said. “All I have to do is finish paying for the countertops and then I can start putting money toward it. It's going to be close, but I think —”
“You think?” Dad asked. “Hun, we can’t have this be so uncertain. We have to —”
“I’m going to my room,” I said, snatching my backpack off the floor and storming off towards the stairs. I was done. I couldn’t stand hearing about any of this anymore.
“You haven’t eaten,” Mom shouted after me.
“Last I checked, you dumped dinner in the trash,” I said before slamming my door behind me. I sagged against it, covering my face with my hands.
Mom was stealing from her clients. And it was all because of me.
As I sat there against the door, trying to keep myself from crying, Mom’s voice carried down the hall to my room, angrier now than she had been before and soon after, I heard Dad’s voice rise, too.
They continued their argument for some time and I listened to their anger flow out, free at last, no more need to hide it from me...until I couldn’t stand listening any longer.
Chapter 34
I was grateful that my new bedroom was on the first floor. It made sneaking out way easier.
Darkness was falling over the world and I worried that I had lingered at home too long. I didn’t want to think about the state that Derrick might be in. I had to go. I had to find him. And the only way that I could find him was for someone to give me a ride.
I'd texted Lockwood to come and pick me up. I had no intention of telling him what was going on with my mom, but that didn’t mean that I couldn’t fill him in on what was going on with Derrick.
My phone rang while I hurried down the sidewalk, heading for the next corner to wait for him. Sitting out in front of my own house would have been asking for hell to come raining down on me if my mom or dad happened to look out.
“So, we’ve caught the scent again?” Lockwood asked.
“Not yet,” I said. “Unfortunately, his mom has no idea where his dad could have taken him. I’m literally back at square one. But I need you to come and get me.”
“And do what, Cassandra?” Lockwood asked. “Drive around until we somehow stumble upon him and his father romping through the streets?”
I stayed silent. This sounded way too much like my argument with Mill. After the argument with my parents, I didn’t need someone else to make me feel worse about everything than I already did.
“I talked to Mill,” Lockwood said, almost like he read my mind.
“Oh?” I said, a flare of fear striking me through the heart. “What did he say?”
“That he’s worried about you,” Lockwood said gently. “That you’re acting impulsively. That you’re defensive and unwilling to listen —”
“Unwilling to listen?” I asked. “What about him? He hates that I'm spending any time with Jed. He’s jealous.”
“He is also worried,” Lockwood said.
Partially hurt that Lockwood didn’t immediately take my side, I pouted. “That doesn’t make it okay.”
“Perhaps not,” Lockwood said. “He said that he apologized to you and you still walked out on him.”
“What are you now, our counselor?” I asked. I was out of line, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I didn’t need Lockwood and Mill on my back right now.
“I’m not trying to attack you, Cassandra,” he said. “But you need to carefully evaluate what your next steps are. You’re moving from having to be involved in this world to choosing to be involved. Are you sure this is the direction you want to go?”
I licked my lips, my mind racing for a clever reply. None came.
“I will do what I can to protect you, of course,” he said. “Regardless of your choice.”
“I don’t need you to protect me,” I said, but I regretted the words as soon as they were out of my mouth.
“Very well,” he said.
I stared at the ground. I had pushed Mill away and now I was pushing Lockwood away. Were they both right and I was just unwilling to admit it? “Lockwood…I didn’t mean —”
“I’m almost there. I’ll pick you up on the corner.” And then he hung up.
There was a pit in my stomach and my eyes stung.
What was happening to me? It felt like I was undergoing a transformation of my own, not unlike Jed or Thomas underwent when they became a werewolf. The tension at the edges of my life as I became...whatever the hell I was becoming, maybe an adult, like Dad said, it felt like it was going to tear everything apart.
Lockwood pulled up to the curb, pretending like nothing was wrong.
I wasn't too proud to apologize. “Lockwood?” I asked, hanging on the passenger door, leaning in.
“Hmm?” He looked across the seats at me.
“I’m sorry that I got so angry on the phone.”
“It’s quite all right,” he said. “There’s a lot going on. And I do trust you. I hope you know that. I've been able to count on you when I needed help. All that we're asking of you is that you trust us, too.” His green eyes seemed to shine.
“Thank you.” I needed to hear that just as much as I needed Mill’s stubborn affection.
Someone cleared their throat and I looked into the Maserati's back seat to see Mill sitting there. “Hey…” he said, looking massively chagrined, as though I might explode at him. Again.
All the anger swelled inside of me, like helium filling a balloon. At him, at Jed, at my parents, at Thomas…And then, almost as it grew to an unbearable amount, it burst within me, fizzling out and I sighed.
“Hey,” I said, staring down at the ground, still leaning on the open door. I was too scared to get in the car, too ashamed. I had acted like a child…but I really didn’t want to have to admit that out loud, because compared to my little blowup at Lockwood, what I'd done with Mill was titanic by comparison.
I heard the soft pat pat of Mill’s hand on the seat beside him, indicating that I should slide in beside him.
I swallowed nervously and shut the front door, opening the rear one. I hesitated there until the memory of Derrick came flooding back to me, along with the panic that I had been feeling for him all day, so I pushed aside my worry and slid into the car beside Mill. Once the door was closed, Lockwood pulled away from the curb.
“Do your parents know that you’re out?” Mill asked. So quiet, so calm.
The scent of his bergamot cologne filled the car and I was surprised how calm it made me feel. He was wearing the black button up I had mentioned in passing once that I really liked and some dark washed jeans. He looked like a super model. A super model with a really big forehead, but hey, I thought he looked good. And that was all that mattered, right?
Heir of the Dog (Liars and Vampires Book 6) Page 15