“No way.” Mellie giggled. “Millionaire playboys? Is that what the headline under the picture says? Is that true?”
“It’s true or used to be, anyway,” Sheila said. “Their father was enormously rich, but he embezzled a lot of money from his stockholders a couple of years ago, and the family lost just about everything, including Bart’s and Will’s car sponsorships. It was a really big deal. Especially when their dad up and disappeared like he did. Took the police, gosh, over a year to track him down. I can’t believe you don’t know this.”
Amelia, Lily and their mother, Rose, had lived in a remote area of Idaho, and they’d never followed NASCAR, but she didn’t talk about her real life or where she’d come from, not to anyone. “So what happened to him?” she asked to get Sheila off the topic of her past.
Daisy glanced up at the screen. “That’s him, their dad, Hilton Branch. He’s in prison in Texas and probably will be for the rest of his life.”
“If there’s any justice,” Sheila added. “Bart hates talking about his dad—both twins do. So here Bart is, on cloud nine being in the championship hunt, and what do those reporters do but dredge up the old stories?”
Mellie barely heard a word either said, however. Eyes locked on the television screen, she would swear her heart stopped cold—as she looked at the man she knew as Hal Walker, standing with his twin sons.
How on earth could Lily’s father also be Hilton Branch? The man she remembered had been very kind to her mother, had genuinely loved her. Had been kind to Mellie, too, even though she wasn’t his.
How could that man have embezzled millions and left another family destitute, then eventually wound up in jail?
Poor Bart. Oh, dear God. What would Bart say if he knew—
She would never find out because she didn’t dare speak a word about it. She had no idea what to do, where to go now.
Whoever Hal Walker was or had been, he was nowhere nearby. He was in Texas, and she was in North Carolina, halfway across the country. She couldn’t begin to afford to travel there—if not for Sheila’s kindness, she wouldn’t be able to keep a roof over Lily’s head.
The trip from Idaho had been grueling, with a toddler who missed her mother, and Mellie herself aching in every cell for her mother’s love and guidance, too. She’d been responsible for all of them for many months before her mother’s death, and she’d desperately wanted to quit being in charge.
Lily had blossomed here, and Mellie felt safe. She didn’t want to pack up and run again.
But she might have to.
Her reason for being in North Carolina was gone. Whatever had led Hal Walker—Hilton Branch, she corrected—to tell her mother to look in North Carolina if she needed help, she could not imagine. Suddenly it hit her that her mother’s marriage had been a lie. Hal— Hilton—had already been married, so the wedding that made her mother so happy had been a total sham.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Sheila said, reaching past Mellie to wipe Lily’s sticky fingers. Vaguely Mellie realized Lily had been smearing peanut butter and jelly all over her hands.
Get a grip. You can’t afford to think about it now. She took over cleaning up Lily while her mind raced.
Then she escaped to the bathroom to wash her own hands while staring in the mirror at a twenty-year-old girl who felt more like a hundred.
Don’t borrow trouble was a favorite saying of her mother’s. I don’t want to, Mama. All I want is to be a normal girl, go to college, meet boys, be young.
Mellie sighed. She hadn’t ever been young, and normal was not her life. She dried her hands and headed back to join her friends.
But when Lily was ready for a nap, Mellie gratefully escaped.
CHAPTER TWO
“BART?” A FEMININE voice spoke when he answered the phone.
“Hey, Pen, what’s up? How’s my favorite niece?”
“Better be careful about calling Diane that, now that Will has a little girl.”
“Um, yeah. Favorite older niece?” He still couldn’t get over his twin being a family man—from bachelor to married man with three kids in barely over a year.
“She’s fine. Growing like a weed. Craig is already cleaning his shotgun to warn off suitors.”
“She’s a baby.” Bart wasn’t great at keeping up with birthdays, but surely dating was a long way off.
Penny laughed. “He says he’s only practicing.” Then her voice sobered. “Bart, I need to talk to you.”
“Sounds ominous,” he teased.
“It’s about Daddy.”
All notion of teasing fled. “Forget it. He can rot in jail. Whatever he wants, I don’t care.” His hand tightened on the receiver. “And I don’t know why you do. He took everything from you, and at one of the worst times of your life.”
“I know, but—”
Bart didn’t wait. “Forget how he screwed Will and me. For how he humiliated Mom and left her helpless, I will never forgive him.”
“She stood up to the test, even though she was terrified. And now she’s got Chuck. That man adores her.”
“It’s the least she deserves after how that bastard—”
“Bart, stop. This isn’t about helping him, not really. It’s about the rest of us. We’ve been threatened.”
“What? He’s threatening us?”
“Will you please chill out? No, he’s not threatening us. It’s some men he got crosswise with. They’ve threatened others, too, and they may be in greater danger.”
“What do you mean? Who else?”
Penny exhaled. “I wish I could be there to tell you this in person, but…”
“Just spit it out.”
“We have a half sister.”
Bart blinked. “We…what?”
“Our father had a second family with a woman named Rose Parsons. They had a little girl together. She’s about three now.”
“Where? Who? Why—” Bart gave up. He thought he’d plumbed the depths of his father’s depravity, but this… “Does Mom know? Where did he meet this woman?”
“Yes, Mom knows. I told her last night. Sawyer was there, too. As for Rose, he met her on a hunting trip in Idaho.”
“What kind of woman—”
“She didn’t know he was married or had a family. He didn’t mean to fall in love, he says. He met her under another name and by the time he married her, it was too late.”
“Married her?” He couldn’t help one harsh bark of laughter. “He is a piece of work. So is she aware that he’s a bigamist? That she’s only one of his victims?”
“Rose is dead. I found out when I tried to contact her. He didn’t know, and it just about killed him when I broke the news. He really loved her.”
Bart snorted. “Yeah, sure. The only person he’s ever loved is himself.”
“Bart…”
He sighed. “So why is he telling us about this woman? Doesn’t he know we don’t care? That we hate his guts?”
“I’m not asking you for help for his sake. It’s for that little girl, our half sister. She’s in danger, and she’s gone missing, along with her sister, Rose’s child from her first marriage.”
“What kind of danger? Who are these guys?”
“Some shady types at an overseas firm called Biscayne Bay. Daddy borrowed a lot of money from them to buy out his partner, Fred Clifton, and he was embezzling from the banks to pay them off and to keep up two families.”
“You don’t expect violin strings for him, surely.”
Penny continued without responding to his sarcasm. “It’s a complicated situation I’m still not sure I understand, but basically, he set aside some money for Rose and her girls when things started falling apart and he had decided to pull his vanishing act. He gave it to Clifton for safekeeping with instructions not to let even him know where it was. He only told Rose to contact Clifton if she was ever in need, not that there was money available.”
“He left this woman money and Mom with nothing?”
“I
know,” Penny said.
“Every cent you had was tied up in his bank stock. You lost it all, and he—” Rage made it hard for him to continue.
“I’m all right now, Bart.”
“How can you be? People lost jobs, you nearly lost your marriage, Will and I—” He reined in his fury.
“And he says he doesn’t know where it is? Why should we believe him? He spent years lying to all of us.”
“If you could see him now…”
“When did you become his chief apologist, Pen?”
“That’s not fair.” Her voice wobbled.
“I’m sorry. I just don’t understand—” He stopped himself. Accusing her was not what he wanted to be doing. “Tell me why we should care.”
“Because the head guy at Biscayne Bay sent a message to him in prison. They found out about the second family and learned of that money. They killed his partner, Fred Clifton, Daddy believes, trying to find it. They’re convinced that he must have also stashed away other money, and they want it. They’ve told him his children are in danger if he doesn’t tell them where all the money is. He says these guys don’t fool around, that we have to take them seriously. I’ve never seen him so intense about anything.”
“But the cops looked everywhere and determined that he’s dead broke. There is no money.”
“Right. He says the same, but Biscayne Bay doesn’t believe him. Daddy’s worried about us.”
“We can take care of ourselves.”
“But those two girls can’t.”
“So warn them.”
“That’s the problem. They’ve disappeared. We have to find them.”
“Why?”
“Bart Branch, I know you aren’t ready to forgive him. I understand why. But this is about two young girls, one practically a baby, who are out there alone. They’re innocents, and Mother taught us better than that. We have to help.”
Bart thought fast. “You can’t get any more involved, Pen. You have a family. So do Will and Sawyer. You stay out of this.”
“Does that mean you’ll look for them?”
“Damn it.” He exhaled. “I’m trying to win a championship, sis. A whole lot of people are depending on me to stay focused.” But he knew if he didn’t act, she would. “All right. I’ll do this much—I’ll hire a private investigator. But I’m not talking to that son of a bitch. He can rot in jail for all I care.”
“You have to forgive him someday, Bart—for your sake more than his.”
“I don’t have to do anything where he’s concerned. He never cared about us.”
“You were his pride and joy, you and Will.”
“We were show horses, that’s all. He liked the reflected glory.”
“He’s changed. He’s a very chastened man.”
“I don’t care.”
She sighed. “But you’ll take this on? Find our half sister?”
A child, another innocent endangered because of one selfish bastard. “For her sake, yeah. Not for his. And I’m digging into this Biscayne Bay—but you stay out of it, you hear?”
“I’ll do anything I can to help, you know that.”
“Just take care of yourself and that little girl. Tell Craig I’m expecting him to throw a brick wall around you.” He thought a minute. “Have you told Will yet?”
“No.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Thank you. Mom’s worried about that little girl, too.”
It was typical of his mother and her generous heart. “Tell Chuck to be sure she’s protected.”
“You know he will. These sound like really bad guys, Bart. You be careful yourself.”
Like he needed one more thing to worry about. But that child was blameless. “Will do. Pen, could you write up everything you’ve learned and send it to me for the investigator?”
“I already have, just to keep the facts straight in my own head. It’s a really tangled mess.”
“Why am I not surprised, given who created it?” Then he relented. “Be careful, Penny. Stay out of it from now on.”
“Not if you need me.”
“Promise me.”
“All right. But you promise, too. Watch your back. And stay in touch.”
“Anything else? Pick up my socks? Brush my teeth? Other instructions, big sis?” he tried to lighten the tone by resorting to his more usual teasing.
“Yes, all those. Plus find a good woman and settle down.”
For a second, Mellie’s face drifted before him, but he shook his head. Over the past couple of weeks, she’d become very distant, and he didn’t have the time to spare to pin her down.
Now he would have even less time.
After the season’s over was becoming his mantra. That was the place he tucked a thousand and one items he couldn’t deal with right now. Mellie Donovan was at the top of that list.
He made a crackling noise in the phone. “Sorry. You’re breaking up. Gotta go.”
“Yeah, that’s gonna work—but I get the message.” Penny’s laughter was nice to hear as she hung up.
Bart clicked off and stared into the distance. Two races down in the championship run, and he’d moved up one spot to fourth. He was spending every spare second in the shop, running simulations and dissecting the car with his crew chief, Philip Whalen, and the engineering staff.
Now he had to find a private investigator.
A name popped into his head. Hadn’t Jake McMasters found the missing Grosso daughter last year? Who did he know who would have Jake’s contact info?
Patsy and Dean Grosso would, of course, but…his lips curved, and his heart lightened a little. Sooner or later every tidbit in NASCAR came Sheila’s way. He’d ask her instead.
And if Mellie just happened to be at work at Sheila’s diner, well…he didn’t mind taking advantage of the opportunity to see her while he was there.
“HEY, GIRL. LOVER BOY’S here.” Sheila nudged Mellie as Mellie waited for a pot of coffee to stop dripping.
Mellie felt the jolt of the mere possibility that Bart was nearby. Though she tried, she couldn’t resist glancing over her shoulder.
His gaze locked on hers as he stood in the doorway. He started in her direction.
Oh, no. She nearly dropped the carafe she was holding. “Sheila, I…I need something from the back.”
Sheila frowned. “I can get it.”
“No!” Mellie heard the panic in her voice and tried to settle it. “I just… I’ll be back. Could you… I don’t want to see him.”
“Are you kidding me? Girl, when a man looks at you with blue bedroom eyes like those, you don’t run. What’s going on?”
Get hold of yourself. “It’s not—he’s not—”
“Hey, ladies,” said a very familiar baritone voice. “How ya doing?”
And her opportunity to escape was lost. Mellie swallowed hard and turned.
“Good,” replied Sheila. “Not as good as you, maybe. Moved up to fourth after Dover, I see. That was some sweet racing. Gil wasn’t happy, since it was at Rafael’s expense.”
“I feel real bad about that, I promise you.”
Sheila snickered. “I’m sure.”
Mellie risked a glance upward, but immediately cast her eyes back down when she realized that Bart’s lighthearted tone did not match the intensity of his gaze.
“Um, congratulations. I, uh—I have a table waiting.” She scooted past him, painfully aware of his big, solid presence.
He swiveled and followed her progress, one eyebrow arched, telling her he knew what she was doing. Then he frowned, obviously wondering why.
She couldn’t tell him. I’m doing this for your sake, she wanted to say. But she couldn’t. Even if he didn’t have bigger issues on his mind, how could she begin to explain what she didn’t understand herself?
His father had been married to her mother—no. His father had pretended to marry her mother, was the bald truth. He’d lied to Rose, lied to all of them.
But why? How could Hilton Br
anch want any family but his own? Mellie had never met Sawyer or the sister, Penny, but she’d seen Will in the diner often, and Bart…
Bart. He was a good man. Sexy, yes. More attractive than any man ought to be, but also intelligent and kind…look at how he was with Lily, who adored—
Lily. His sister. Well, half sister.
Mellie and Bart were not related, but Lily was family to all the Branches.
Holy cow.
“Hey!” exclaimed a customer when hot coffee overflowed the rim.
“Oh, no! I’m so sorry.” Frantically, Mellie used napkins and her apron to mop up. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay,” the man said. “Are you?”
Sheila appeared and removed the pot from her shaking hand. “I’ve got this. Go ahead and change your apron.” A quick look of concern and a dash of her head sent Mellie back toward the kitchen while Sheila calmly cleaned up and joked with the customer, telling him breakfast was on the house.
Mellie’s eyes welled. She made her way blindly across the diner, skirting around a table to keep it between herself and Bart. She scurried into the kitchen, headed toward the small bathroom at the back.
“Hey, girl, you okay?” asked Al, the cook. From his vantage point he would have seen everything. “Want to go upstairs with Louise and Lily?”
At that instant, Bart rounded the doorway. “Let me look at that,” he said. “Did you get burned?” He reached for her hand.
“You can’t be back here. I’m fine. Go outside.” She jerked away and raced for the bathroom, all but slamming the door in his face.
Heavy footsteps followed. “Mellie, I’m not leaving until I look at that arm.”
“I’m not burned. I’m okay.” She stood next to the slab of wood separating them, trembling at his nearness, at how much she wanted to lean on him.
But she had absolutely no right to. Bart had done nothing wrong and had a lot on his shoulders already.
The one who should be fixing this was the man who continued to hurt all of them.
CHAPTER THREE
“DUDE, YOU NEED A SOCIAL life,” said Bart’s motor-home driver, Jimbo Wheeler, as he flipped the burgers on the grill. “Only two races down in the championship run. You can’t afford to be this tight. Go have some fun. This ain’t healthy.”
Right Before His Eyes Page 9