“Did you call that boss of yours?” Logan said, rubbing his hand across his chin. Ben could hear the scrape of whiskers from his day-old beard.
“When I was packing up, I called Peter. You know his first response to me? He asked how I could do something like this, and then he said he was having the company lawyers and accountants do a complete audit on me: every project, every file. He believes I did it, and he let me know, loud and clear, that the bridge between us has been washed away,” Ben explained. He was having a hard time understanding how Peter could cut ties after the bond they had shared. How could Peter immediately believe Ben could do something like this? Worse, Peter had basically thrown him to the wolves.
His cell phone rang, and when he lifted it from his pocket, Logan darted a glance his way and said, “Don’t answer it.”
But he couldn’t leave it. It was Verna. He’d called three times but hadn’t been able to track her down. She’d left the office, and her cell phone had been turned off—her house phone, too. No one had answered. “I have to,” he said. “It’s Verna.”
“Watch what you say. You can’t trust anyone right now, and you need to be paranoid that everyone is out to betray you, even those you believe won’t.”
Ben just shook his head. Logan didn’t know Verna, not like he did. She was like family to him. “Hey, Verna, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you.”
“Ben, what the hell is going on? I’ve never been so scared in my life. Do you know I was called into your office by Mr. Stillwell? Rick was there, too, along with two security guards. They emptied your file drawers, and the lock was busted. Every file, every paper, every report you had in your office was scattered on the desk and the tables, piled on the floor, and there were two other men I’ve never seen before going through everything.” Her voice was tight on the other end, and he could hear how she was trying to hold it together.
“Verna, I’m so sorry. Are you all right?” He wished he could see her right now, and maybe he should have flown back to Boise, seen to Verna first.
“I lost my job, Ben. Peter fired me, said I may need to get a lawyer, because no one will believe I didn’t know what you were doing or have some part in falsifying those documents. Ben, Peter said I could be looking at jail time.” This time, her voice did catch. “I still have a kid in college! This could bankrupt us.”
“Verna, do you believe I could have done any of this?”
She sighed on the other end, and for a moment he felt another door closing. “Would you stop being ridiculous?” she snapped then. “Of course I know it’s not true, but I don’t understand how your name, your signature, appeared on all those documents. I didn’t see everything, but Peter showed me one from the steel manufacturer in China. It was your signature, Ben!”
“You actually saw one of the documents? It couldn’t be an original. Either someone has forged my signature or it’s been copied on. Who has the most to gain from my downfall?” he asked, though he knew the answer before he had even finished speaking.
“Ben, you remember when I called you to say I found Rick in your office and that he left with a file? You don’t think…”
“Yeah, I do. Listen, Verna, hang tight and try not to worry. If for some reason something happens and you hear from the Feds, Peter, anyone before I get back to you, call me, but don’t panic. And don’t say anything to anyone, okay?” he said. He had a lot to make up to Verna over this. She was too good a woman to be dragged into a mess that wasn’t even his own doing. It wasn’t right.
“Ben, I have to tell you that my husband wants some answers, too.”
“If it was me, I would, too. I promise you I’m going to get to the bottom of this. Will you be okay? Can you keep a low profile?”
She let out a sigh. “Yes, and, Ben, I really hope you can straighten this out.” She hung up before Ben could say anything else. He held the phone tightly and could feel his brother watching him.
“Ben, the only way you can protect those around you is to look after yourself, to clear your name. Do you have any idea who would do this to you?” Logan said.
He tucked his cell phone in his pocket. “I’m pretty sure it’s Rick Stillwell, Peter’s son. I couldn’t swear to it, Logan, but if it wasn’t him, I don’t have any idea who else it could be.”
“So what does this Rick have against you?”
“He’s Peter’s son, a pompous rich kid. Daddy made him vice president in my shadow, but he’s earned jack shit in that position. In theory, he reports to me, but he doesn’t.”
Logan was shaking his head. “Ben, blood is thicker. You know that--so he has it out for you?”
“Yeah, he has it out for me. He doesn’t like the idea of being below me. He wants my job and refuses to report to me. I’ve had to pull rank on him a few times. I did have Peter’s support, then. I wonder, though…” He shook his head, wondering if maybe Peter’s support had been all talk. Had he been grooming Rick all along to take over, work under Ben, learn the ropes? “I guess it all comes down to proving it, Logan.”
“Get the papers, and then we’ve got a place to start,” Logan said. He glanced over at his brother again. “Small-town sheriff I may be, Ben, but I have resources, too. Just remember one thing: No one screws with my family.”
Logan pulled into his driveway, which led to a small, box-style bungalow with a garden full of flowers. The front door flew open, and Dawn and Trinity raced out, followed by a very pregnant Julia, her dark hair pulled into a short ponytail.
Ben had only stepped out when the girls tackled him. “Hey, you two spoiled-rotten kids!” he shouted, grabbing both preteen girls and lifting them as they giggled. Julia went right to Logan’s side and kissed him as he put his hand possessively over her swollen belly and the child she was carrying.
“Ben, glad you’re here,” Julia said. “The girls made you a surprise. They were so excited that Logan was going to pick you up.”
“Yeah, what’s the surprise?” he asked. Julia’s girls from her first marriage were a handful and a ton of fun, and they thought he walked on water.
“We made you some cookies!” Trinity said.
“Shortbread, you said it was your favorite,” Dawn added.
“It is my favorite. Why don’t you go in and dish some up?” Ben said. “I’ll be right in.”
The girls took off, and Logan just watched them like a protective father, making sure everyone was where they were supposed to be.
“Ben, I’m so glad you called, really,” Julia said. “When Logan saw that news report, I thought he was going to hunt you down and drag you back here.” She had her hand on Logan’s chest, and by the way she watched him, anyone could see how much she loved Logan. That alone meant more to Ben than anything, knowing that his brother, who gave to everyone, had someone taking care of him.
“Well, there isn’t anyone else I would call,” Ben said.
Maybe Logan understood what he meant, as he simply nodded and then gestured to his brother. “Grab your bag,” he said. “Let’s start making some calls.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Carrie received the summons from her father to appear in person at home. Actually, the message she listened to on her cell phone was spoken in a tone she’d never heard from her father before. Carrie had ignored many messages from her father, but this time, for some reason, she couldn’t ignore it. There had been a second message, too, a little quieter, but she hadn’t been fooled by the calmness in the way he spoke. She could hear the outrage in the heat of his tone. He was the only man she knew who said very little, but what he did say, he meant from the depths of his soul.
She called the house, and her father answered on the first ring, as if he’d been sitting there, waiting.
“You’re not at the house,” he said. “I can only hope you’re calling to tell me you’re on your way.” His tone was sharp, and she could hear how cross he was in his breathing as he waited for her to respond.
“Can you tell me what this is about?” she a
sked. She wasn’t a coward, but she was worried about what her father would say to her.
“No. You’ll come here now, or I swear to God you will not like what I do next,” he said. He had never in her life given her an ultimatum, and she really didn’t like the direction this was going.
“I’m on my way,” she replied.
Her father didn’t respond. He actually hung up, and she shut her eyes as she let out a sigh of regret. The small office was buzzing, filled with half a dozen members of the Friends of Kit Cove. “Rex, I’ve got to go,” she said. “Can you call me if you need me?”
“Will do, Carrie.” Rex was on the computer, sending emails of the documents Carrie had been sent to all local, state, and federal government officials, as well as news channels and anyone else who could ensure this oil project would be dead and buried.
She grabbed her purse beside the computer and stared at the stack of papers, hard copies of all the documents that had been emailed to her. She picked them up again, staring at Ben Wilde’s name before folding the small stack and tucking them into her purse. Rex didn’t miss the move, and she wondered whether he’d ask her what she was doing.
“Have a good night, Carrie” was all he said.
“You too, Rex,” she replied.
She left the building, taking in the half-full parking lot. She should have been happy that they were about to stop this oil project, one she’d been told they didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of stopping, but she couldn’t be happy, because her heart had been shattered by a man who’d played her like a fool. Ben was a scoundrel, a thief—and he’d been her first.
The drive to her dad’s place took no time at all. When she pulled into the driveway, she could see her dad waiting for her, leaning on the porch railing, both hands gripping the rails. He didn’t have a coat on, just a dark brown plaid shirt and his newer blue jeans, and he was standing so still it seemed he was holding a vigil.
He said nothing to her as she climbed the steps, but with each step she took, her heart thudded a little more. She had to swallow, and her hands were sweating. He was making her feel as if she’d done something wrong, but she wasn’t the wrongdoer here, so why did she feel as if she was?
“Dad,” she said.
He nodded. “Carrie.” He moved to the door, pulled it open, and held it for her.
He was giving nothing away, so she stepped past him and inside. He closed the door behind them. She spotted Alice coming down the stairs. The woman hesitated, and her gaze went to Jack.
“I’m going to run into town,” she said. “I’ll be gone about an hour.” She paused beside Carrie, her lips tight as if she, too, was having trouble with something she’d done. Then Alice reached over and patted Carrie’s arm. She started to say something but shook her head, stepping away. She reached for her coat, and Jack took it from her hands and leaned down to kiss her cheek, holding her shoulders affectionately. It was the first time it had registered for Carrie how much her dad loved Alice.
He opened the door. “Drive safe,” he said, shutting the door behind her and holding on to the doorknob for what felt like an hour but was really only a minute. He was obviously trying to figure something out before he turned to her. “Let’s go into my study.”
He started down the hall, and Carrie followed. He took one of two easy chairs on either side of a small table, extending his hand to the other chair. The entire time he watched her, she couldn’t figure out whether he loved her, hated her, or was finally done with her. And it hurt.
“Carrie, I’m going to tell you a story, and I need you to listen to everything and to say nothing. Can you do that?”
Now she was really confused. The shit had just hit the fan, and she was numb. Her heart felt as if it had been cut open with glass, and her father wanted to tell her a story? She looked away, and he waited for her to say something.
“Dad, what’s this about?” she finally asked. She didn’t want to hear a story—and her father had never been a storyteller. The fact was that they’d never sat in a room alone together for more than five minutes. He’d always been with either Alice or her mother, and he’d never read to her or told her a story, not ever.
He didn’t say anything. The look on his face gave her the impression he’d wait all day, though he wouldn’t be happy about it.
“Fine.” She shrugged, setting her purse down on the floor at her feet.
“There was a young man who grew up in Billings,” he began. “He was arrogant, with a mouth on him that got him in trouble a time or two. He wanted nothing more than to be the best, and he didn’t care who he hurt to get there. You see, to him, succeeding and getting to the top included stepping on those close around him, using anyone to get what he wanted.
“He also liked the ladies, and he met this nice woman. She was gorgeous and sweet, and he got her pregnant. When she first told him, his response was to do what he always did. He was cruel and lashed out, accusing her of trying to trap him. She cried, and even though he'd hurt her and left her in a fine mess, she'd dried her eyes and walked away without another word to him. He expected her to call him, of course, and he waited a week, but she never did.
“Then he started to feel guilty, then remorseful, for how he’d hurt her. She was a nice young woman, a freshman in college, and he was just starting out in his career. He wanted fun and good times and nothing to tie him down, but night after night, he relived how he’d treated her. So he called her, left a dozen messages, but she never called back. He started to worry and panic that she’d done something she couldn’t undo, so he went to her school, and one night he found her walking with two girlfriends. Instead of treating him the way he deserved, she asked him how he was.
“They went for coffee, and they talked. She hadn’t aborted the baby but was planning on having it, so he asked her to marry him. At first, she didn’t agree, but he convinced her it was the right thing, and he promised he’d do right by her. A week later, in front of a justice of the peace, they were married. She was a woman he admired, a woman who was good and honest, a woman he respected—but also a woman he didn’t love.
“He told himself he’d grow to love her. She loved him, and he knew that, as she had never forgotten to tell him so in the beginning. After his daughter was born, he realized that he’d had no idea what love was until he held that tiny, precious child in his hands. He didn’t deserve her, but he knew one thing: That child of his might be the only thing he truly loved, but his wife, who’d given him that precious bundle, was someone he loved in a way that he hadn’t expected. It was love for giving him that child, it was caring, but it wasn’t, and never would be, a burning, passionate love. It was a love of friendship, companionship. It was comfortable.
“She raised his daughter for him, as he knew she would. He provided for his family and was faithful to them, but he was also a man driven in his career, and he would do anything he had to to succeed and make money. When his company asked him to falsify documents, to bury reports, to plant evidence, and to look the other way, he always complied. And he was good at it. He was paid well for what he did, and he never told anyone.
“This man was smart, though, too—smart enough to know he was responsible for the downfall of many an innocent man. He had destroyed people’s careers, all to make the company he worked for wealthier, all to keep the company from being held responsible for the problems they caused. Well, he learned to have his own safety net, so he started keeping copies of everything he’d done, copies of memos, anything that would protect him, because he knew that being in bed with the Devil would come back to bite him in the ass.”
Carrie just watched her father as he spoke. She had a sick feeling he was speaking from personal experience. She swallowed, gripping the arms of the chair so tightly her fingers were starting to hurt. “Dad…”
He shook his head. “Let me finish, Carrie. You see, when you do bad things, it always comes back on you, and always in ways you don’t expect. The man’s wife, who held their famil
y together, became sick, very sick. She fought her cancer without complaining. She was sick, in pain, but she made it into remission. The second time, when it came back, that ugly, hated, black, miserable cancer continued to destroy a good woman. The man knew it would take her, and he prayed for deliverance, for a miracle, for cancer to take him instead. The woman didn’t deserve to die, but he did. He knew this was his comeuppance for every bad, vile thing he’d done.
“Then he met a lovely, good woman, who became his wife’s friend and was there by her side day in and day out right up to the end. She loved his wife, and, in all his sick, twisted, fucked-up life, he knew he’d just met the one woman he would truly love. And it was wrong, but, you see, his wife knew. She saw something in the two of them, that they were soulmates, and before she passed over, she called them both to her bedside and all but handed him to her friend.
“He was outraged, of course. He wouldn’t hear of such a thing, but his wife told him that she understood. She confessed that she, too, had walked away from a man she loved deeply. She had already been married at the time, and her child had been young, and she’d already made a commitment. She confessed to her husband that if she could go back, though, it would be different. She would have left him and run as fast as she could for that love, and she pleaded with him not to waste any more of his life but to marry this woman as soon as she was gone and then live every day in love, not regret.”
Her dad stopped talking, and Carrie was stiff with shock. Her eyes ached. “You’re telling me Mom told you to marry Alice?”
A tear slipped from her father’s eye. She’d never seen him cry, even after her mother died. “Your mother was a gem,” he said. “I wish every day she was still here and she had the chance for the love I was given. She deserved it, but I got it. I carry her death as if I’m responsible. She knew Alice was—is--the love of my life. I’ve never felt for any woman what I do for Alice.”
Carrie’s throat was so thick with emotion that she had to clear it twice before she could speak. “You’re telling me my mother had an affair, and then she just handed you to Alice?”
A Matter of Trust Page 11