Before she could change her mind, she scooped it off the table and tore into it, her fist going to her mouth as several photos fell onto the floor. Stiff, wooden fingers gently picked them up, and she sank to the bed, eyes glued to the images.
A dark-haired girl smiling at a friend in the park.
The same girl lacing up soccer cleats beneath a live oak tree.
Riding a bike.
Walking down a residential sidewalk, wearing jean shorts and a Beatles T-shirt.
Her features were soft and delicate, and so much like her own, it hurt to look at the photos. She studied each of them for several long minutes. Did the girl look happy? Was she content? Did she wonder about Blue? Did she know about Blue?
Pensive, Blue sat back on the bed and slammed her eyes shut. She wanted Cam. Wanted his arms around her. His voice in her ear telling her everything would be okay. Her head fell forward, and, defeated, she bit her trembling lip. She’d made the right decision. Cam and Tawny belonged together. He needed her. And with his father ill, now more than ever. If she could save one family, if she could make sure Cam and Tawny had a chance to survive, then Blue’s pain would be worth it. All she had to do was sign Edward’s papers, and it was done.
After he’d left the dance studio, she’d paid a visit to her own lawyer. Mr. McVey was a somber, serious man who’d been a close friend to David. He’d read over the agreement and advised her not to sign. However, she told him she’d take his thoughts under advisement but had him insert two clauses she was certain Edward would overlook as long as he got the company back, and she left town.
The dance studio and all the monies she’d set up in a private trust to run it were to be handed over to Poppy. She knew the woman would keep to Blue’s vision, a place of dance meant for children who couldn’t afford it. She also knew Poppy would take the responsibility to heart and make sure it ran smoothly.
Secondly, Blue arranged to set up a trust for Tawny. She would use her own money for this, but she wanted to make sure the little girl would never want for anything, no matter what. Blue, more than anyone, knew how fragile a future could be and that nothing is guaranteed.
If for some reason Cam wasn’t able to keep Tawny or give her the home she deserved, there was money there, and her lawyer would make sure it was used appropriately.
Thirdly, if any of the gardens she’d designed and discussed with David were harmed or defaced or any of the charitable organizations he supported had funding taken away, the deal would be null and void.
Blue rifled through her purse and found a pen. She signed the documents, sealed them in a manila envelope she’d grabbed from her lawyer, and then sent an email to the courier she always used, requesting a pickup by noon. Once that was done, she wrote a letter to her brother, grabbed her purse, a few things from the safe, and the information and pictures of her daughter. Silently, she made her way downstairs. She put the envelope for Cash on the counter, gave Giselle a last kiss and a quick rub behind the ears, set the paperwork for the courier on the small table next to the front door, and then headed out into the garage. She bypassed the expensive Mercedes and hopped into her Honda.
Exactly one minute later, red taillights disappeared around the bend as the car sped away. Crystal Lake was in Blue’s rearview mirror, and the image would stay hours after she left. But in her soul, she knew it was a picture she’d carry forever. Blue had left a big chunk of her heart back there. And she was pretty sure she would never get it back.
25
A jackhammer had taken up residence inside Cam Booker’s cranium and was going at it full tilt. He’d emptied the bottle of pain meds at sunrise and still no let-up. Could be from lack of sleep. Could be from the bottle of JD he’d cracked open the night before. Either way, it was self-inflicted, which made it worse.
He’d just dropped off Tawny and Silas at school, and at least now could drop the façade he’d been forced to take on. Breakfast had been brutal. He’d done his best to act like everything was good and normal—as if unicorns and fucking rainbows existed in his world. He didn’t want any of the turmoil, the betrayal and pain he felt, dumped on Tawny. No way did a kid deserve that. Did he succeed? No clue.
She’d chatted away during breakfast. Asked for a second piece of toast with butter and strawberry jam. She’d downed her orange juice and taken her vitamins. After deciding to wear a red sweater with big white snowflakes across the chest, she was ready for school. He thought he’d done a pretty good job of keeping to their routine until it was time to leave.
Tawny gave him an extra-long hug and whispered into his ear. Told him that Mrs. Eddy’s chicken soup made anyone feel better. Cam was guessing Mrs. Eddy’s chicken soup was pretty damn good. But it would take a miracle to get him out of his funk.
And then there was the anger.
He’d gone and fallen in love with a woman who cared more about money and prestige and bloodlines than she did about him and Tawny. He’d been floored. It was as if the Blue he’d come to know had disappeared and been replaced with a Stepford wife version of the one he’d first met. He needed to cut his losses and let go. That was what a smart man would do. So why was he having such a problem doing it?
It was the love thing. The handing your heart over to someone and then that someone completely destroying it. It was going to take time to get over her, and until then, his anger simmered. It heated his blood and made him miserable because he had no outlet for it. Which was why, an hour after he’d dropped Tawny at school, he found himself sitting in his parents’ driveway with no real clue as to why. Harry and Lisa had enough to worry about.
His mother’s car was gone, but that was a good thing. No way could he keep up appearances around her. She had a sixth sense for this kind of shit, and she’d be all over him. Cam didn’t want to talk it out or examine his feelings. And he sure as hell didn’t want to hear what undoubtedly would be his mother’s position on the matter. “I told you she wasn’t right for you.”
His dad was tooling around in the garage—Cam heard metal clanging against metal—and, pulling his leather jacket up around his neck, he headed there. Harry Booker was bent over the same lawnmower he’d been working on weeks ago. Johnny Cash sang “Folsom Prison Blues,” softly in the background, and the gas heater was on full tilt. Even so, it was cold. His father was bundled against the chill, a double layer of thick plaid, and for once, he wore a knitted hat. His complexion was on the pale side, but all considered, his dad looked good.
“Hey.”
His father glanced up and tossed his tool aside. “Cameron. I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing.”
“Bah.” Harry made a face. “I could do without the damn radiation and the damn cancer, but other than that, I’m not too bad, I guess. Always someone worse off than me.” His father’s eyes narrowed. “You look like shit, son.”
“I look better than I feel.”
“Oh?” Concern lit up his eyes. “Your meeting with the lawyer and children’s welfare people go badly?”
“No. The well check visit went smoothly, and good news, my lawyer found Tawny’s biological father. The guy’s in jail. He had no problem signing off on parental rights.”
“That’s good, then.”
“Yes.”
“You under the weather, then? A couple guys I have coffee with are down with the flu.”
“Nah. I’m good.”
“Huh.” Harry scratched at the whiskers on his chin. “You’ve got woman problems.”
A denial was on his lips, but it didn’t quite make it out. He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “Blue bailed on me and Tawny. She just bailed.”
“That’s surprising. I thought you two were good.” Concern laced his father’s words.
“You and me both. I gotta say it was like a kick in the ass.”
“Some women aren’t cut out for mothering.”
“It’s not that.” No way in hell. He’d see
n her with Tawny.
“What is it, then?”
Cam frowned, clamping down on his anger. “I don’t know. What I do know is that her bullshit excuse is just that. Bullshit. It’s driving me crazy because I can’t figure out why. How can someone pull a one-eighty in less than twelve hours? She left my place yesterday morning and came back last night a different person.”
His father shuffled over to the coffee pot and poured two steaming cups. He handed one to Cam and took a sip from his own before giving his thoughts.
“Seems to me something happened in those twelve hours.”
“But what?” Frustrated, Cam swore. He lifted the mug to his mouth and nearly choked on the hot liquid. He was at the end of his rope.
“I don’t rightly know. The only way to get your answer, son, is to ask.”
“I already did that last night, and she gave me nothing.”
Harry Booker shrugged. “Then you’ve got two options. You can forget about the gal or you can go see her and figure this thing out. Neither one of them is a guarantee, mind you,” his dad said quietly. “But at least with the second option, you know you tried, and that will make the first one a bit easier on you. If it comes to that.”
Cam stared down into his coffee mug. Blue had been pretty adamant that they didn’t see each other again. And truthfully, he’d needed some time, or he might have said some things he’d regret. But that was last night, and things had changed. A fresh batch of anger punched him in the gut, and he downed the rest of his coffee in one gulp. His afternoon was wide open.
He handed the cup over to his father and gave the man a quick hug. “I’ll see you Sunday for dinner. Thanks, Dad.”
“Where you headed?” his father asked as Cam turned to leave.
“I’m going to get some answers.”
“I hope they’re the ones you want to hear.”
It had started snowing by the time Cam pulled into Blue’s driveway. The place looked deserted, dead leaves piled up near the edges of the concrete steps leading to front door, and a bundle of flyers to the left. Cam strode up the steps and grabbed the advertisements before ringing the doorbell. He heard the echo inside and waited. And waited some more.
He rang it again and added a few hits with his fist, and still no answer. Maybe she was at the studio? Or Poppy’s shop? Or maybe he was crazy and should let things be. Did he really want another rejection? He turned on his heel and had taken exactly one step down when the door flew open and a gruff voice greeted him.
“This better be good.” Blue’s brother glared down at him. The guy looked like he’d just crawled out of bed, and though dressed in jeans, he was shirtless with no socks or shoes.
“I’m looking for your sister.”
“She’s not here.”
“Where is she?”
Cash Bodine muttered something under his breath—he was obviously irritated. “What’s this about?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“She’s my sister. She is my business.”
Cam had to rein in his anger. He didn’t know this man at all, but he knew family. And if some angry guy showed up at his house demanding to see his sister, well, Cam would have a problem with it. And if that guy got in his face, things would get ugly. Cam didn’t have the time or energy to go that route today.
“Look. Your sister and me… We’ve got some things to sort out. I just need to talk to her.”
“I thought you two were done.”
“Well, I need more than the bullshit excuse she gave me yesterday. I need to know what happened because none of this makes sense. I didn’t recognize the woman who came to my house.”
Cash’s eyes narrowed, and he took a step forward. “No means no, pal. So you better back away or…” He stopped cold. “Wait. You said you saw her yesterday?”
Pissed off and angrier than he could ever remember, Cam spoke through gritted teeth. “She’s practically been living at my house, so yeah, I saw her yesterday. Then she—” He looked away, his anger getting the best of him and stealing his words. “Something happened. I need to know what it is. She owes me that much.”
Just then, a small yellow-and-white van pulled in behind Cam’s truck. A young man, fresh out of his teens by the looks of it, jumped out. His thick yellow-and-white hat leaned toward the side of ridiculous, but it looked warm. His dark pants matched his parka, which sported a bright yellow logo across the chest: Zippy Courier. He approached the two men with quick steps as if in a hurry and waved hello.
“I’m here to pick up a package.” He glanced at the small tablet in his hands. “From Blue Barnes? Says here, by the front door.” He shrugged and looked up. “I’m covering for the regular guy, Mickey. Are you Blue?”
“Hold on.” Cash disappeared inside the house, and Cam turned to the courier.
“Where’s this package going?” he asked.
The kid glanced back at his tablet. “I don’t think I’m supposed to give out that kind of information.”
Cam gave him his full attention. He was way beyond pissed now, and the kid shuffled his feet nervously. “Where?”
The young man hesitated but was saved from bodily harm when Cash appeared in the doorway. He looked at Cam pointedly. “You better come inside.” Then to Kid Courier. “There’s nothing here. Sorry.”
Cam followed Blue’s brother into the house. On the small table beside the front door was a large envelope addressed to Edward Barnes and a smaller one addressed to Poppy. Cam frowned, uneasy now. He looked at Cash.
“Something’s going on.”
“I agree. Last night, Blue told me you two had been over for weeks. Now you tell me she’s been spending all her time with you. Blue doesn’t lie. Not unless she’s protecting something or someone.” He nodded at the table. “I know who Edward Barnes is, and I know Blue disliked him almost as much as she disliked Pete.”
“Pete?”
“She never got around to talking about our family?”
Cam shook his head. “No. Blue didn’t share much.”
“Pete is married to our mother.”
“Where is Blue” Cam asked. He wasn’t interested in the sibling history—at least not now. He had to find her, and they had to make things right.
Cash ignored the question. He grabbed the envelope and ripped it open. It took a few moments for him to scan several pages, and then he handed them over to Cam, who tore through them. By the time he was done reading, his jaw was clenched so damn tight, his teeth were sore. The anger that had been brewing since the night before threatened to engulf him, and Cam took a few deep, cleansing breaths. He couldn’t lose it. He needed to keep his shit together.
“This doesn’t make sense. She would never hand over control of David’s company to his son. He’s not a good guy, and he’s been a pain in her ass for as long as she’s been in Crystal Lake.”
“Not unless she was protecting something.” Cash frowned. “Or someone.”
“And this trust for Tawny? Why would she cut us both out of her life and then do this?” Fear ripped through Cam. “Something is going on, and I need to know what it is. I can’t help her if I don’t have all the information. Where the hell is Blue?”
Her brother looked Cam in the eye, his expression serious and intense. “What is my sister to you exactly?”
What was she? There weren’t enough words. No way he could convey what he felt for Bluebell Barnes.
“She’s everything,” he replied.
Cash slowly nodded. “Give me your cell number and I’ll text you an address in Nashville. I’m pretty sure that’s where she’s headed.”
“Nashville?”
“It’s not my story to tell. But I hope you find her.” He motioned for the envelope, his voice cold. “Leave Edward Barnes to me. It’s time I paid the bastard a visit.”
“Edward’s an asshole, but he’s no idiot. Don’t put yourself in a position he can use against your sister.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ve dealt wit
h his type before.” Cash flashed a smile while reaching into his pocket for his cell phone. “That’s why it’s good to have friends in low places, if you know what I mean.”
The two men shook hands, and then Cam left Blue’s home feeling more confused than ever. He had an address in Nashville and not much else. But it was a start, and he needed to see this through. He called his brother and made arrangements for Nash and Honey to look after Tawny.
And then he headed to the airport.
26
An unseasonably warm wind swept across the park, bringing with it debris and leaves from the dogwood and cherry trees that bordered it. Meandering paths snaked around bushes and vegetation, and eventually met up near a large, colorful play center. There were swings and slides and big contraptions to climb. A water pad and a large sand pit rounded out the playpark, with benches set next to an ornate water fountain.
It was early, just after eight a.m., and a lone woman was on one of the benches. Dressed casually in jeans, brown suede boots, and a pale pink sweater, she sat there, motionless. The wind caught at her hair, and it blew around her head, but she didn’t bother to clear it from her face. It was almost as if she were hiding, or trying to disappear.
Cam saw her right away, and his heart jumped, taking off like a rocket and making it hard for him to breathe. He’d been in Nashville for a couple of hours after taking a red-eye from Detroit, and he’d spent the first hour camped out in front of a house down from the park. A large, newer home in an upscale subdivision, it had remained silent until twenty minutes ago when a man who looked to be in his early forties, sporting a black sweater and dark jeans—accompanied by a woman, presumably his wife—walked out the front door. They stood on the step for a bit, chatting to each other, and then a big golden retriever bounded out, followed by a young girl who grasped a long, pink leash.
The Thing About Trouble Page 19