“Good morning, sunshine,” he said. “You’re sure the early riser today. Heard your wake-up call. Did you start the coffee?”
He wasn’t sure what to make of her expression. She was guarded, on edge, and she moved around the island in a short nightshirt that stopped just above her knees. He took in the carton of milk, the frying pan, a jug of water, and two large mixing bowls on the island, evidently the source of the banging.
“You making breakfast for us?” he said. He just couldn’t help himself.
She was still acting from that angry, hurt, and frustrated place. He took in the carafe, which was cold and empty, and pulled it out and rinsed it under the tap, then filled it with water, very aware she still hadn’t answered him.
“Where does your mom keep the coffee?” he asked, pouring the cold water in the reservoir and then lifting out the basket of yesterday’s grounds, which he dumped in the garbage under the sink. When he looked over at Alison, the frown was still on her face, and she had moved so the island was between them.
“So are you living here now?” she said, cutting right through the bullshit.
“Sounds to me like you have some issues with that,” he said. He rinsed the basket and tossed it back in. “You want to talk about it?”
She just shrugged and then pointed to the cupboard in front of him. Evidently not. “Coffee and filters,” she said. She really didn’t say a lot when she didn’t want to, and her personality had an edge to it, rough, frayed, and jagged.
“Thanks,” he said as he dumped the filter and coffee into the basket and pressed the button to start the brew. When he turned and leaned against the counter, she was eyeing him up like a wary dog who was just waiting to be kicked and would attack and bite before he could take a single step.
“You’re having sex with my mom,” she said.
If he’d been drinking coffee, he’d have spit it out.
“You’re just a kid,” he replied. “You shouldn’t be talking like that.”
But then, considering what she’d seen and done, she really wasn’t a typical fourteen-year-old, whose only worries were homework and school dances and when her favorite show was on TV.
“So what should I be saying—fucking, screwing? What are you doing with my mom?” What do you want from her? Are you toying with her, messing with her, fucking with her, trying to hurt her? Are you playing a game of some kind?” Her expression told him there was something more to her questions.
“Whoa, Alison, what’s going on?” he said. “You, me, and your mom are trying to build something here. I thought we talked about this. Are you telling me you don’t want me here?”
For a second, he didn’t think he should have put that out there, because he might not like her answer, and he had no intention of letting her push him away.
But then she shrugged. “I want to know what my mom means to you. Is she just someone for you to have fun with, toy with, hurt…?”
There it was. How much of the sick relationship between Wren and Jenny did she know about? He suspected more than a kid should. Jenny had been vague, but she’d said enough that he knew the man liked it rough.
“I wouldn’t be here if I wanted fun,” he replied. “I told your mom I want something more, and I would never hurt her or you. Besides, your mom’s already put the brakes on. If I had my way, we’d all be living under one roof now—my roof. As it is, I’m having to tread carefully until she’s comfortable. You’re not without a voice here either, Alison, but you’re my kid, which means we’re in each other’s lives forever regardless of whether your mom and I have a relationship. By the way, though, yes, your mom and I are involved. I care about her very much, and you.”
For a minute, he wasn’t sure what she was going to say. If anything, she seemed uncomfortable, hesitant.
“So you don’t have another girlfriend or someone else you’re taking out, sleeping around with?” she said. “You’re always here, yet you keep your house next door, kind of like you want the best of both worlds. You have your space, and where does that leave us?”
The coffeemaker beeped. He knew his mouth was open in shock, so he reached behind him and pulled out a mug, then poured himself a coffee, wondering what she was getting at. “First, I don’t have a girlfriend or, as you so directly put it, another woman I’m sleeping with. I’m single, or I was, but now I’m not. I wouldn’t be here with you and your mom if I was seeing someone. Told you before that your mom and I are trying to build something, a relationship. Your mom wants to take it slow, which is the only reason I’ve been leaving at dawn to my house. We’ll get there, though, and figure it out, and when everyone is comfortable, you and your mom, both of you…” He gestured with his coffee mug. “Then either you’ll move over to my place, or…” He would have to move in here. “Then there’s you and me. Aren’t you back to school today?”
After she had been kicked out of so many classes, he and Jenny had had to smooth out the problems and talk the principal into giving her another chance, and today was the day.
“I don’t feel well,” she said and forced a pathetic cough.
He just stared at her, and she stared right back at him. “Really,” he said. “You sound fine to me. You know, it’s not going to get easier, avoiding this. School should be fun. Just go and stop putting it off.”
He could vaguely hear his phone ringing from upstairs in the bedroom, and then he thought he heard Jenny answering it. He found himself looking up at the ceiling, hearing the squeak of the old floorboards. Evidently, she was up. He could hear her footsteps on the stairs.
“Fun for who? I told you, I’m sick.” Alison forced a cough again.
Jenny was still talking as she made her way down to them. He wondered what his own mom would have said to him in this situation. Probably just told him to get his ass in gear and get to school.
“Listen, you have only one job, and that’s to be a kid and go to school,” he said. “Your mom and I have already talked to the principal, and you now have a second chance, so how about meeting us halfway?”
“He’s right here,” Jenny said. She was behind him now, and he took in her long floral robe, her hair a tousled mess. She held out his cell phone to him. “It’s your sister.”
He took the phone before he could ask which one. “Hey,” was all he said as he pressed it to his ear. Behind him, he heard Jenny telling Alison to get ready for school and then asking if she’d had breakfast.
“Ryan, have you talked to Marcus yet?” It was Karen.
He turned around, staring out the small kitchen window, seeing his house right next door. He set his coffee on the counter. “No, it’s like the crack of dawn. Does no one sleep in?” he said.
Alison said something to Jenny, but he was only half listening, as he thought he heard a vehicle outside.
“Well, we kind of have a problem,” Karen said. “You know the storage locker Jenny still has in Atlanta? I told her to empty it and get rid of everything, and she said she would get around to it.”
He knew it was something she had been planning. Unfortunately, it was just one more thing she was dragging her feet on, and he had a sinking feeling he wasn’t going to like what Karen said next.
“Sure,” he said. “Why are you asking about the storage unit?”
When he turned, Jenny was looking at him with wide eyes. He had her attention, and even though it appeared Alison was completely ignoring him, he knew she was listening to everything he was saying, too.
“All I know is that Troy Johnson is out on bail, and questions are being asked about where Wren’s belongings ended up. They know about the storage locker, and the defense is pushing someone in the justice department for a warrant to get access to everything in there.”
He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes. This was supposed to have been open and shut. He heard the doorbell ring, then a knock on the door, and Jenny started toward it.
“Of course, he’s trying to get out of it,” he said. “
He knew Alison was there, and Jenny, so he’s trying to point the finger.” He blew out a breath and took in the furrowed line across his daughter’s brow. Then he heard Marcus’s voice. “Well, looks like Marcus is here.”
“Good, then pack a bag,” Karen said, “because you’re going to Atlanta. You make sure there’s nothing in that locker that could lead to Jenny or Alison. Ryan, I know I don’t need to tell you this, but if they send in a crime scene team to go through the locker and they find even a sliver of something that could link to the gun, it could allow them to question Troy Johnson’s guilt and shine the spotlight elsewhere. You know it’s not about who really did it; it’s about the story and about having the right kind of evidence.”
Marcus was right beside him now, dressed casually in blue jeans and a faded green T-shirt, shades resting in his thick dark hair. Both Jenny and Alison were giving them their full attention.
“Okay, got it,” Ryan said, then hung up and dumped his cell phone on the island.
“So you heard,” Marcus said, not pulling his gaze from him.
“Do they have a warrant yet?” he asked.
“Not yet, but we expect it,” Marcus said. “So pack an overnight bag. We need to go to the airport and catch the next flight out.”
“Okay, someone please explain what the hell is going on,” Jenny finally cut in, her voice and expression panicked, and he thought Alison had stopped breathing beside her. Ryan didn’t pull his gaze from his daughter.
“We need to take care of the locker,” Marcus stressed. “We don’t know what else is in there, Jenny. Troy’s lawyer is really good and is working at getting him off, and it appears that in doing so, he’s trying to shift the focus any way he can.”
“But you took care of the…” Jenny stopped, and Ryan cleared his throat.
“Yup, but there was a lot of other stuff in there, a lot of boxes,” Marcus said. “They found the gun at Troy’s, but if there’s anything else incriminating, that could suddenly become a problem.”
Ryan exhaled, seeing the panic on Jenny’s face and the way she pulled in a breath. “Yeah, guess we’re going to Atlanta,” he said, then reached for his phone and started around the island. “Let me go grab my things.”
“Just a second,” Jenny said. “Do you think your mom would watch Alison?”
He took in his kid, who still hadn’t said anything. “I’m sure, but why?”
Jenny firmed her lips and then nodded, shoving her hands in the pockets of her housecoat. “Because this time, I’m coming too.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Not only had Iris pulled up in front of the house less than ten minutes after Ryan called her, but she had also insisted that today was not the day her granddaughter was going back to school. She said Alison needed a fun day, and they were going to head off to meet Suzanne, who apparently also had the day off, for an afternoon of pampering, a mani-pedi, lunch, shopping, and whatever else they could think of.
Ryan had argued that Alison needed to go to school and his mom was only enabling her avoidance, but he had evidently changed his mind after seeing his daughter’s face when Iris slipped her arm around her shoulder. Iris just seemed to have a way with Alison that no one else did. Well, at least Alison had someone she liked.
After Ryan had tossed his bag in Marcus’s pickup, he’d pulled Alison aside, and whatever he’d said to her had her relaxing just a bit. There was something about watching this relationship between father and daughter, something so new. Jenny could see that her daughter was really struggling not to like him.
It was promising.
She felt watchful still as she sat between Ryan and Marcus in a tight coach seat on their last-minute flight to Atlanta. Ryan’s hand rested on her thigh, and she leaned against his arm, still considering the question Marcus had insisted on asking. Is there anything in that locker that could have the authorities looking at either of you?
She had said nothing. That fact of the matter was that she had packed up all of his files and belongings without a second thought, not wanting to deal with it. She had even given away most of his personal things, and everything that was left was now in storage. She hadn’t looked at anything too closely because she hadn’t wanted to know. Her one and only priority had been her daughter and moving to Livingston and leaving all this behind.
“You okay?” Ryan said. “You’ve been pretty quiet since we left.”
Marcus was beside her, scrolling through his phone, and didn’t seem to be paying any attention to them. She felt Ryan run his hand over her thigh, over her blue jeans. She wore a simple white sleeveless blouse, and her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, her face free of makeup. All she had packed in her carry-on was a change of underwear, her deodorant, a toothbrush, and a second sleeveless blouse just in case they didn’t make it back that night.
“What can I say? My daughter seems to prefer being with your mom and your sisters over me,” she replied. She knew she shouldn’t take it personally, but it just added to the uncertainty and worry she was feeling over the kinds of things they’d find in that locker she’d never taken the time to go through.
“It’s a phase,” Marcus said, jumping in. She hadn’t even known he was listening. “Every kid prefers their grandparents or someone who spoils them and lets them have fun, let loose. Just consider it our mom’s way of getting back at Ryan.”
Ryan only grunted. “She did say she couldn’t wait until we had kids so she could enjoy every moment of watching them give us the gears while she stepped in to be the fun one. Apparently, Mom’s being true to her word.”
“It’s payback, Jenny, but just be glad Alison has that.”
She wasn’t sure what to say to that. “So how much trouble were you for your mom?”
Marcus stared at his phone and laughed under his breath, then glanced her way and over to Ryan, shaking his head. “Oh, we were pretty bad.”
“Speak for yourself,” Ryan said. “I wasn’t as bad as Luke, and then there was Karen.”
“Don’t forget Suzanne, either. Mom just didn’t know all the trouble she got in. And Owen, I swear he’s done things none of us know about.”
Jenny didn’t know what to say.
Just then, the captain announced for them to fasten their seatbelts and prepare for landing. It was a quick arrival and a quick exit off the plane after grabbing their overhead bags. She held Ryan’s hand while they made their way through the airport, having to really work to keep up with the brothers’ long strides.
Marcus had rented a car, and she found herself tucked in the back seat of the small compact, taking in the back-and-forth between Ryan and Marcus without really listening to what they were saying. As they moved through the afternoon freeway traffic of a city that had once been home, she felt no connection to it now.
“Did you hear me, Jenny?” Ryan called out, looking over his shoulder at her from the passenger side.
“Sorry?” She leaned forward as far as the shoulder strap would allow.
“Marcus has ordered a truck to take the furniture from the locker and give it to charity. Everything else, we’ll go through it quickly and get rid of it. I know I asked you before, but is there anything in there you want to keep?”
His eyes were blue as he lifted his sunglasses, surrounded by tiny lines and freckles from the elements. He was so good looking. She pulled in a breath as the big sign for the storage units emerged in the distance. She had been there only once.
“I want nothing,” she said.
Ryan was quiet for a second, and she wasn’t sure what to make of the way he looked at her. She still hadn’t shared everything of what Wren had done, what he’d done to her, what she’d allowed him to do.
He only nodded as Marcus pulled off the freeway. “You hear anything more about if the Atlanta PD got a warrant?” he asked.
Marcus pulled up to the locked gate. “Nothing yet, but then, I may not hear anything until they’re on their way.”
Maybe that was why she sudd
enly had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Ryan climbed out, punched in the code she’d given him, and climbed back in as the gate swung open. As Marcus drove in, she could feel her heart hammering, her palms sweating.
He pulled around the corner, and when she saw nothing, she let out a breath that sounded like relief even to her own ears.
They pulled up and parked in front of the storage unit, and they all climbed out. As Ryan unlocked the padlock, she couldn’t have explained to anyone the sense of panic and urgency she was feeling. He lifted the door and stepped inside the eight-by-ten space, and the light flicked on.
Jenny took in the concrete walls, the artwork in the corner, the desk and small furniture she hadn’t disposed of. It was considerable. She couldn’t help where her gaze landed, on the small cabinet stacked on a side table, where the grease trap had once been. She reached for the handle and pulled it open, and seeing the empty spot had her breathing another sigh of relief.
She felt a hand rest on her shoulder. Ryan was there.
“We need to move quickly,” he said. “Let’s look through the files and start getting rid of stuff now.”
She moved to a stack of taped-up boxes on which she’d scribbled Wren’s name in Sharpie. Right, his files, the contents of his desk. She’d simply dumped in all the papers.
As Ryan cut open the first box, she heard a truck and turned sharply. Marcus had just stepped out of the unit to investigate when a guy pulled up with a cube van and parked. It was only the furniture truck.
She gave everything to the files in the box, seeing names of who she knew were important people. Everything Wren had done left her feeling as if the man she’d married had been a stranger. There was also a small locked box that she’d forgotten about. It had been in the bottom of his desk, and she’d never found the key for it.
#1-3--The O’Connells Page 13