by Tina Leonard
Chapter Fourteen
The old shack across from the bingo parlor smelled the same as always. Zach grimaced at the sour stench as he walked inside. That was something that was never going to change about Pop. The man simply had no use for clean living.
“Pop, it’s me,” Zach called. “You here?”
There was a muffled curse, then the sound of slowly moving feet. Pop shuffled into the living room, wearing a dirty, nappy bathrobe and looking much the worse for wear. “Are you all right, Pop?” Zach asked.
His father grunted as he sat down heavily on the busted sofa. “Well, ain’t I the special one today? The Prince himself has come to pay this worthless servant a call. My, my.”
“Ah. You’re doing pretty much the same, I see.” Zach pursed his lips and stared up at the cracked, gray-lined ceiling before leaning against the wall. He wasn’t about to sit next to his father, and other than sitting on the heavy box that served as a coffee table, there was no place else for him to go.
Still, the conversation he needed to have with Pop might be long and protracted, and Zach wanted to be looking him straight in the eyes as they talked. Zach walked into the kitchen, knocked a month’s worth of newspaper off a kitchen stool and dragged it into the living room.
Pop never even glanced his way. Sullenly, he picked at a torn piece in the sofa cushion with old, gnarly fingers, his veined legs sticking out in front of him like flimsy kindling. Zach wondered just how long Pop could go on living like he was before he killed himself.
“How’ve you been, Pop? Really,” he asked gently, the unnatural shades of gray he saw in his father’s florid face alarming him. Blue capillaries spread around Pop’s nose and toward his cheeks, a slow testament to his years of drinking. Those alcohol scars had been present for years, yet Zach realized he was looking at the deterioration of a man he’d never really known.
Something told him his life would be a lot easier without Pop in it. There would be no sharp criticism, no accusations, no boiling hatred for whatever sin Zach represented to his father.
Still, he couldn’t feel anything except bitter sadness for their relationship. He wouldn’t miss Pop when he was gone, not with a sense of deep grief. But he’d always regret not having the bond a father and son should share.
Regret was a royal pain in the ass when a man shouldn’t give a damn.
Unfortunately, Zach did.
“Look, Pop,” Zach said suddenly. “I heard something I want to ask you about. It may or may not be true, but I want you to be honest with me.”
Pop shrugged. “What you see is pretty much what you get with me. Ain’t you figured that out by now, Mr. College Education?”
“Okay, Pop.” Zach deliberately made his tone soothing, although he was gritting his teeth with the effort. “Somebody mentioned that you’d bought some property a couple hours north of here. I wasn’t aware you were interested in buying up any land, so I thought the story was far-fetched, but I wanted to ask you about it anyway.”
Pop swiveled his head to stare intently at him, bushy white brows furrowing with anger. “Why? Can’t I own land, same as you? Same as anyone in this damn state?”
“Hold on, Pop; that’s not what I’m—”
“It’s just what you’re saying! You don’t think I’m smart enough, or good enough, to have anything other than what I’ve got!” He sat up straight on the broken sofa, throwing his arms out in front of him to encompass the tiny, dirty room. “Didya think I didn’t want more out of life, Zach? I can’t do no better than this?”
Zach narrowed his eyes. “I may have overlooked some ambition on your part, perhaps, Pop. You haven’t answered my question. Is it true?”
Pop settled back down in the sofa, glaring at Zach. “Hell, yeah, I got me some land. But Carter said he’d keep his mouth shut about the deal. Said he’d keep it between the two of us, gentleman-like. Shoulda known he couldn’t keep quiet.”
“Why keep it a secret?” Zach asked.
“Everybody on planet Earth don’t need to know my business, specially you,” Pop replied meanly.
“Why would I care what you do with your money?”
“Same reason you’re asking,” Pop shot back. “You’re jealous of me being in on a deal with Carter.”
“It does occur to me that it’s a strange partnership, Pop.”
“Well, come on over to America, Prince Charles. A man can make a success of himself here if he’s got a mind to.”
Zach shifted on the cracked yellow vinyl of the kitchen stool. “Big deal, is it?”
Pop’s grin was smug. “Well, it ain’t the biggest, but Carter said he picked the land up for a song.”
Too many things weren’t fitting into place. If the land was for the purpose of selling to high-stakes business companies, Carter wouldn’t have “picked the land up for a song”. Ritter would have bought the property at close to fair market value. They weren’t in the business of shaking people down. At least they never had been before.
And Pop wouldn’t have been involved in the deal at all. The skin on Zach’s scalp tightened as he realized there had been more behind Carter wanting him to go to Annie’s farm in the first place than Carter had ever let on. But, God bless Annie’s stubborn soul and ornery father, Carter had been denied in his original bid for Annie’s land. Apparently, he’d then moved to purchase the land to the south of Annie’s farm.
Zach kicked out his legs in front of him, pretending casualness. “Why isn’t the land in both your names, Pop?” he asked, guessing that Cody would have mentioned another name being on the deed if there’d been one.
Pop pushed his bony chest out. “We got us a limited part—partnership,” he said proudly. “Carter didn’t want anything to have his name on it, so it wouldn’t get confused with his Ritter International business. It’s all legal-like. Says ‘George Smith and Partners’ right on the document.”
Zach crossed his arms over his chest, eyeing his father. “Well, I always wondered what you were doing with the money I gave you. Now I know.”
“Hell, no, sonny boy,” Pop denied heatedly, shaking a finger toward Zach. “I didn’t pay for nothing with any of your money. You ain’t give me any lately. Carter wanted a partner, but I didn’t have a dime to put in it, so he generously loaned me the money if I’d keep the partnership silent.”
“I see.” Zach was beginning to see. Not only was Carter hamstringing the Aguillars, but he’d now indebted Pop to him as well.
Suddenly, the whole dirty business was beginning to feel extremely personal to Zach—like somebody had it in for him.
“Pop, I sent you a check not a week ago What happened to that money?”
Pop shook his head belligerently. “You ain’t going to get away with making me feel guilty, Zachary Rayez. You stomped outta here last time, madder than a hornet landin’ in cold water. Said I wasn’t your father.”
Zach noticed Pop was leaving out his own damning words in their argument, but he let it slide. “Yeah, and when I cooled off, I mailed you a check.”
“Sure.” His father shook his head stubbornly. “You’re saying that to make me feel bad.”
“If you feel bad about anything, it’s because you cooked this thing up with Carter to cross me.” Zach stopped, his memory sharply recalling Carter holding the envelope with Pop’s check up to the sunlight. Carter had been awfully interested, although at the time, Zach had put it off to one of Carter’s typical maneuvers. Still, the check had never arrived, and Carter had talked Pop into putting his name on a shady limited partnership.
Zach snorted. Limited, indeed. Limited to whatever Carter could suck out of Pop. But if Carter had Pop in his sneaky grasp, then he was ultimately trying to get at Zach. If the partnership went south, Pop owed Carter money, and Pop didn’t have anything but the leaky roof over his head. That meant Zach would have to come rushing in to bail Pop out. Carter knew that.
Chilling awareness flooded Zach. “By the way, Pop,” he said slowly, “just how much did
Carter loan you, anyway?”
Finally, a trace of conscience seemed to invade Pop, because he lowered his head, refusing to meet Zach’s eyes. “Not that it’s any of your business,” he said, “but Carter paid off what I owed on this house.”
Shock lanced Zach’s mind. “You mortgaged your own home in return for your silence on a shady deal?”
Pop jumped to his feet and began stomping around the room. “You’re jealous, Zach! You don’t want me to have anything but what you dole out, like I’m too pitiful to do anything for myself. Well, this time, somebody thought enough of me to make me their partner, and I don’t care what you say, this deal isn’t shady!” He stopped to poke a gnarled finger Zach’s way. “You think you’re the only one that can live the high life, screwing beautiful women and driving that damn flashy car. Well, let me tell you something, Mr. Too-good-for-your-old-man, I can do just as well without you! I don’t know why I agreed with Carter to cut you in on the deal!”
Zach frowned, a red alert sign flashing in his mind. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“George Smith and Partners—that’s you and Carter, ’cept I told Carter we didn’t need you. I said just to give you a little bit but Carter wanted to share. Said he owed this to you—”
Zach leaped to his feet, the flimsy chair crashing over behind him, as hot, painful comprehension flooded him. Carter had made damn sure he’d closed every loop, and greedy, hate-filled Pop had made it easy for him to make certain Zach was completely under his control. Maybe it wasn’t all Pop’s fault, because he could never hope to match wits with Carter, had never seen past his own blind greed.
Zach could hardly rein in the bitter rage filling him. “Fine, Pop. You’ll have to eat from the hand you’ve chosen to feed you. Don’t blame me when you find yourself hungry.”
“What’s the matter? Can’t face the music? Don’t like your old Pop making a success outta hisself?” Pop demanded.
Zach ignored him, striding outside. He flipped his keys out of his pocket and opened the car door.
Pop made it to the porch, calling, “You’ll see! Carter says me and him are going to do more deals together! I’ll be bigger than you one day, and all you’ll have is that silly bimbo and her fat-cat daddy. They just want you for the political ride they’re hoping you’re gonna give ’em!”
At that Zach halted. “What in the hell are you babbling about?”
Pop smirked from his position on the porch, clearly enjoying this last bit of power he had over Zach. “Never knew, didya?”
“Never knew what?”
“That big-breasted blonde lover of yours is hoping your brown skin and good looks is going to get you a brass plaque and a desk in the state congress one day, good Republican that she and her old man are gonna make of ya!”
Pop bent over, roaring with laughter at his own words. Zach slid into the hot sports car, watching the old man clutch his sides with mirth. Obviously, those words had come straight from Carter’s mouth, because Pop had never had a single original thought of his own in his life.
Zach started the car, gunning it. It was past time for a heavy-duty talk with his vice president.
Annie opened the front door, expecting to see the sheriff. It took her a second to recognize the elderly lady standing on the porch, dressed in street clothes rather than hospital white.
“Gert!” Annie exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”
“Heard about your troubles from one of my nurse friends at the hospital. It’s my day off, you can see,” Gert said, gesturing at her polyester pants and print blouse. “I figured you had enough worries without trying to see to your rascal of a father’s therapy, so I came out to help.”
Annie felt gratitude—and instant recognition that Gert was harboring some kind of feelings for Travis. It was something Annie might have realized at the hospital, perhaps, but she’d been too buried in her own troubles.
Gert’s blush highlighted the wrinkles in her cheeks as she waited for Annie to invite her inside. Annie smiled and stepped back. “Please come in, Gert. I’m not sure how Papa will greet you, but you are certainly welcome where I’m concerned.”
“Thank you.” Gert nodded, no nonsense, and walked into the hall. “What have we here?” she asked, heading into the living room, where Cody eyed her cautiously from the sofa. “You’re the crazy man who tried to stop the fire with a tractor.”
Cody threw a look Annie’s way that appeared pleading. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think Slick had arranged this,” he complained.
Annie hid a smile, knowing that Gert would enjoy martialing two patients in her care. “This is Cody, my brother-in-law.”
Gert nodded sagely. “I’ve heard of you. They call you Crazy Cody in town, don’t they?”
Cody didn’t answer, but Gert sat down in a chair across from him. “Is the tractor story true?”
He sighed, realizing the determined woman wasn’t going to allow him to escape her questioning. “I’m sure it’s been greatly embellished, but yes, slowing the fire down with empty dirt rows seemed reasonable at the time.”
Gert thinned her lips. “Name fits, then.”
Annie placed a small end table near Gert’s chair and laid a frayed straw coaster on top of it. “How did you hear all this?”
“Some of the firemen came down to the hospital,” she said mildly, positioning herself in the chair to have a better view of Cody.
Annie gasped. “No one was hurt, were they?” In her shocked state, she hadn’t even thought to ask after the men who’d put out the fire.
“No one was hurt at all. Occasionally they make a run through to get supplies, whatever, maybe check on a patient they’ve drug in there. This time, I ’spect they was looking for you to give in and make a run to the hospital, Cody. But I guess being crazy doesn’t necessarily mean you got sense.” Gert grinned to take the sting out of her words. Cody eyeballed her warily, probably aware that this woman was here to stay—and likely he was going to get more caring for than he’d had in his entire life.
“Now, Ms. Gert—” he began, but Annie interrupted him with a meaningful stare.
“Cody, Gert coming by is a wonderful thing. I’ll be so busy talking to the sheriff and insurance company that taking care of Papa is going to be a handful. Not to mention that I’ve got Mary, and, of course, your mother has her share of work cut out for her trying to hold the farm down without you around—”
Cody held up a hand. “All right. I surrender. But please, ma’am, I’ve managed on my own for a good long time. I appreciate your intentions, but if you can—”
“Keep the mothering to a minimum?” Gert asked with a grin.
“If you could,” Cody replied, his smile relieved.
Gert leaned forward to whisper, “Well, you’re awfully handsome, but the truth is, I’m here to see the old man, though I wouldn’t mention it if I were you. He doesn’t think he cottons to me.”
“What the hell is she doing here?” Travis roared from the hallway.
Annie glanced up. Her father stood completely transfixed by the sight of the white-haired woman in his living room.
“Who let her in the house?”
“I did, Papa. You remember Gert, don’t you?” Annie asked unnecessarily. With a smile, she turned to the nurse. “Would you care for a glass of tea, Gert?”
“That sounds wonderful.” Gert turned a delighted grin on Travis, who hovered in the dark hall. “Come here, you old coot, and tell me you ain’t been smoking in bed and starting this fire.”
Travis’s expression was incensed. Annie couldn’t help a small giggle. Cody caught her eye, his eyebrows raised significantly, and Annie nodded. He leaned his head back on the sofa arm, grimacing as he focused his gaze out the window.
Annie went into the kitchen to get tea for everyone. Gert’s visit would mean a couple of apple carts would be upset, but Annie needed her help. God bless the old woman for caring enough about Travis to come by. Annie put a sugar bowl and some napkins o
n a tray, sighing. If her father would calm down long enough to be civil, he might actually find that Gert could be a companion for him.
Unfortunately, he was a lot like Cody in that he’d gone unbranded far too long.
Quite the opposite of Zach, who was going to be branded as a married man in less than two weeks. Why that had popped into her head, Annie didn’t know, but she wished it hadn’t. Slowly, she placed the tea pitcher on the tray, willing the pain in her chest away. Tiny stings at the back of her eyes told her she was feeling sorry for herself. She wasn’t the right woman for Zach—but oh, how she wished she could be.
Zach turned the sports car in to the parking garage. He pulled out the cardboard box he’d stopped to get. There were only a few things in his desk he wanted to retrieve and a few personal mementoes scattered about the office. After he tossed them into the box, he was going to say good-bye to his old life and start over.
Completely over.
The elevator carried him swiftly up to the top floor. He was greeted efficiently by the receptionist, whom he barely noticed as he made a beeline to his office. Tossing the box carelessly on the floor, he strode to Carter’s office. The outer office was empty, although the door to Carter’s private chamber was closed. Zach shrugged. His vice president obviously was out for a late lunch, because he was usually pacing in the office, shouting into a portable phone at some unfortunate person.
Zach walked to the closed door, thinking to knock on it just in case Carter was inside. After a second, he thought better of that. The receptionist would know whether Carter had gone out; it’d be better to ask her. Bearding the lion properly required an appropriate time and place other than the small, personal sanctuary where Carter kept only a long sofa and a cocktail table. It would be a poor choice for a major confrontation.
Zach turned to head back out to the waiting area and the receptionist when a map on Carter’s desk caught his eye. Slowly, he approached the desk, recognizing that there was a circled town on the map.
Mesmerized, he stared down. Small dots lay along the line near Desperado, but off the area where the new highway had been drawn in. In fact, the dots formed a semi-circle, as if land in the middle was being enclosed. Pinpointed.