05 Take Me Home for Christmas

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05 Take Me Home for Christmas Page 13

by Brenda Novak


  Ted could only imagine how happy she was to be rid of him, too.

  “Anyway,” Stacy continued, “I can’t believe Skip would give up a woman like Sophia. Beautiful. According to him, a dream in bed. Obedient.” He ticked these things off on his stubby fingers. “So I suspect that when he decided to disappear, he had a plan that included her.”

  “An interesting hypothesis. Considering that it’s obvious he tried to abandon her.”

  “He couldn’t tell her what he was up to, not without worrying that she’d give him away if the police pushed hard enough. You understand that, don’t you?”

  Ted was losing patience. He doubted Skip had any kind of plan other than to escape with as much money as possible—at the expense of those he’d cheated and abandoned. He’d even robbed his parents. That didn’t suggest he had any hope of reconnecting with his past. In Ted’s opinion, he was kissing it all goodbye.

  “What are you getting at, Chief? Why are you here?”

  “I believe Mr. DeBussi was heading to some remote corner of the world where he could change his identity and set himself up before sending for her and the kid.”

  “And how was she supposed to get by in the meantime?”

  “There must be some money for her somewhere. She just needs to find it. And when she does, those of us who’ve been hurt should be able to collect our share.”

  “With your girlfriend at the front of the line.”

  “Why not? No one else lost as much as she did.”

  “That we know of.”

  “That we know of,” he agreed.

  “So you’re hoping I’ll keep an eye on her in case she stumbles across the key to a safe deposit box filled with currency?”

  “Exactly. I don’t mind telling you that Pam’s beside herself over losing all that money. Absolutely inconsolable. I’d like to help her, and the others, if I can.”

  Ted suspected the person he most wanted to help was himself. “And what about Sophia’s well-being?”

  “Far as I’m concerned, she’s had her taste of the good life. That party’s over. Now she gets to work for a living like the rest of us. She’s finally been put in her place, right? And I can promise you, you’re not the only one who’s been waiting for it.”

  “How do you know what I’ve been waiting for?” Ted asked. It wasn’t as if he and Stacy had ever been friends. There was a decade between them; they didn’t know each other all that well.

  “It’s never been a secret how you feel about Sophia, Ted. Six months ago, you quit the task force the mayor and I organized to clean up the mine tailings the moment she joined.”

  “I was on a tight deadline, and you had enough people.”

  “Come on—you didn’t want to work with her. And I don’t blame you. I told you Pam has family in town.”

  “Yes...”

  “Well, she’s Scott Harris’s aunt.” He grew somber, as if Scott had just died yesterday. “You remember what she did to him.”

  “I remember what he did.”

  “Oh, stop pretending.” Stacy adjusted his gun so it wouldn’t cut into his stomach. “He never would’ve gotten behind the wheel if not for her. She caused the death of the best athlete ever to come through Eureka High. His entire family hates her, and I can see why.”

  That argument could certainly be made; Ted had made it once or twice himself. But Chief Stacy’s sudden reversal bothered him. When Sophia had joined the mine tailings task force, he’d been her most ardent supporter. He was switching sides now because it allowed him to press for his girlfriend’s money. “Sophia’s had her share of detractors over the years, but I didn’t know you were one of them.”

  Because he hadn’t been, not until now. The police chief had kissed Skip’s ass at every opportunity. Sophia’s, too. He’d been in awe of their money and the power that money gave them.

  “If she eventually does the right thing, I’m sure we’ll get along just fine.” Stacy came to his feet. “I’ll let you return to work. I wanted to see if you’d keep an eye on her for the rest of us, now that you’re aware of what’s at stake. Since you’ll be seeing her every day, you’ll probably be the first to know if she comes into some money.”

  Ted followed him to the door. “And you think I’d tell you, just because you came out here and asked me to?”

  Stacy turned around. “A lot of innocent people have lost money. You’d be a hero if you could get even some of it back. Why wouldn’t you want to do that? You have no loyalty to Sophia, no more reason to like her than the Harrises do.”

  “I hired her, didn’t I?”

  “I assumed the idea of her scrubbing your toilets appealed to you. That you enjoy having the upper hand, for a change.”

  Ted scowled. “It has nothing to do with being so petty.”

  “Then what’s going on?” Stacy narrowed his eyes, obviously reassessing the situation. “You can’t be making a play for her, not after what she did to you....”

  “No.” Ted denied it immediately and, possibly, too emphatically.

  “Then you want to get in her pants? Make her pay on her back? That’s between the two of you. I’m just looking to recover what I can of Pam’s money.”

  “Wait.” Ted got him to hold up. “For the record, I’m not trying to punish her. I’m not still in love with her. And I can find plenty of other women to sleep with. I need a housekeeper. It’s that simple.”

  “Sure it is,” Stacy said and laughed as he walked out the door.

  13

  Sophia stood near the glass doors of Ted’s office, watching him at his computer. She had his lunch on a tray, the salad perfectly arranged. With the colorful berries and white poppyseed dressing it looked as appetizing as it had in the cookbook. But she was nervous again. She didn’t know what to expect from one encounter to the next. And she was curious as to what Chief Stacy had wanted when he came by earlier. Had he managed to convince Ted that she was even more of a villain than he already thought?

  She couldn’t guess the answer to that question, because Ted had been in his office since she returned from the grocery store. She hadn’t dared interrupt him. She’d also been in a hurry to get lunch on—she was running thirty minutes behind schedule as it was, didn’t want that to count against her, too.

  When she bumped the door with her knee, he got up to let her in.

  “If you don’t mind leaving that door open a crack, I could deliver your food without disturbing you,” she said as she carried the tray past him.

  “Good point.”

  “Do you shut it when you’re home alone?”

  He seemed too preoccupied—or too diplomatic—to answer as he cleared a spot on her desk. Maybe he felt that if he left the door open she’d take it as an invitation to drop in and chat. Or she’d be too noisy.

  “Looks great,” he said.

  He sounded mildly surprised, so she took that to be a sincere compliment. “I hope you like berries.”

  “I do. I like most foods.”

  “Including broccoli?”

  “Broccoli’s a personal favorite.”

  “Good news for dinner. Remember I’m leaving as soon as Alexa gets out of school, so you’ll have to get it out of the fridge and warm it up.”

  “Don’t make anything for tonight. I’ve got a Halloween party.”

  She knew which party he was referring to. His friends always got together on Halloween. Sometimes, depending on who was hosting and whether Skip was out of town, she’d attended. She didn’t go last year because it was here at Ted’s.

  “I’ll make it tomorrow, then.” She put the tray down but backed up instead of turning to go. “Before I leave you to your lunch, could I ask what Chief Stacy wanted? I mean, if his purpose in coming involved me?” She clasped her hands behind her back so that he couldn’t
see what she’d done to her cuticles. She couldn’t have a drink. And, after Friday, she’d decided that smoking wasn’t for her, either. Because of the smell, she couldn’t hide it from Alexa and didn’t want to set a bad example. Her latest bad habit was destructive, too, but at least it relieved some of her stress and anxiety without hurting anyone else. Now that Skip was gone and could no longer belittle her, she could do whatever she wanted.

  Ted met her gaze. “He thinks you have money hidden away.”

  “And I’m working as a housekeeper because...”

  “You haven’t found it yet.”

  “I see. But...why would he want to meet with you about that?”

  “That was my question. The answer? He’s hoping I’ll be the first to notice if you come into money. So if you happen to stumble across a pot of gold lying around the house, be sure and tell me so I can spread the word.”

  He’d always had a dry sense of humor. She could tell he was joking, but it bothered her that Chief Stacy was creating false hope. If the people of Whiskey Creek were expecting to recover their money, they were going to be disappointed. She didn’t think that was fair—to her or to them. The money was gone. Skip had burned through it trying to maintain a lifestyle that cost far too much. She’d heard Captain Armstrong say that the yacht alone required over ten grand a month to own and maintain.

  Chief Stacy and the others needed to accept the truth and heal, get beyond the losses they’d sustained. And she wasn’t being glib; she had to do the same. Skip had put everything he could salvage on his back, and he hadn’t cared about the damage it would cause her or Alexa when he’d jumped into the ocean.

  He hadn’t even left a note.

  “Don’t worry, you won’t have to sound the alarm,” she said. “If I so much as buy a gallon of milk, it’s like bleeding in shark-infested waters.”

  “It’s still very new,” he said, watching her curiously.

  She straightened her spine. “Is that why you hired me? So you could keep an eye on me and what I might or might not have? Did you invest with Skip?”

  Although he’d taken a seat at her desk to start eating, he hesitated before picking up the fork she’d put on the tray. “No, to all three questions.”

  “You’re not an investor.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Then...why were you at the church with the others?”

  He suddenly became much more interested in his lunch. He took a bite and spoke around it, which made it difficult to hear every word. “Eve asked me to come, to...”

  She didn’t catch the rest. “Why?”

  “To make sure there was no trouble.”

  “I see. So you did it as a favor to her.”

  “More or less.” He swallowed and took a drink of his iced tea. “You honestly don’t know who they are?”

  “They?”

  “The investors.”

  “How would I?” she asked. “Skip kept his business affairs to himself. I might be able to get a list from the FBI or Kelly, his assistant—”

  “The offices are still open?”

  “No. Kelly called me over the weekend. He said they’ve been shut down. The FBI will liquidate what’s left of the assets, even the furniture, and that will be that. But he might have a list of investors on his personal computer. It depends on how much work he took home, and whether or not he had reason to save it. I didn’t ask. I’m not sure I want to know all the names. I doubt anyone will ever believe this, but I feel bad enough as it is, and not just for myself.”

  “Maybe you should call Chief Stacy and tell him that. His girlfriend lost over a quarter of a million dollars, her entire inheritance.”

  “I ran into him at Just Like Mom’s last night. It didn’t go very well. I’m not going to call him. He wouldn’t believe me, anyway.”

  “You’re probably right. He’s convinced that Skip would never leave you without a plan to reunite. And I don’t see him giving up on that anytime soon.”

  She could understand why the police chief might think as he did. Skip had loved possessing her, loved dominating her, and he’d made a show of it. At first, even she could scarcely believe that he’d just get up and leave, that she could be free so suddenly and easily after thirteen years of wishing for a “do-over.”

  But she’d since realized that he’d had no choice. Not if he hoped to avoid prison. “Knowing my husband, he measured the odds and decided his best chance was to cut loose and start over. At that point, I was just...excess baggage to him. Alexa, too.”

  “Did he say that?” Ted asked. “Did he ever indicate he might do something like what he did?”

  “Never. I had no idea we were in financial trouble. He kept that from me—had all his bank statements and even household bills go to his office. It was our anniversary. We were supposed to be—” she winced “—celebrating.”

  His fork hung suspended halfway to his mouth. “He stole your wedding ring and all the money you had between you and jumped ship—literally—on your wedding anniversary?”

  She forced a smile. “It gave a nice cover for taking the yacht to Brazil.”

  He shook his head. “God, Sophia. He really did a number on you.”

  For a second, the walls they’d erected seemed to come down, but that changed quickly. She could sense the shift and couldn’t help feeling stung by it. “Yeah, well, we all have to pay for our mistakes, right?”

  “I’m not taking any pleasure in your situation. I hope you know that.”

  “I wouldn’t blame you if you were.” She managed another smile and hoped it didn’t look as wobbly as it felt. “I’ll pick up the tray later.”

  * * *

  Sophia was several payments behind on her iPhone. But AT&T hadn’t yet shut off their service. She’d gone online and made a small payment with a prepaid Visa card she’d bought at the grocery store over the weekend. She hoped that would suffice until she got her first paycheck, especially since their home phone was no longer working. How would Ted notify her if he wanted her to arrive early or pick up something on her way in if he couldn’t reach her?

  Occasionally, partly to make sure she could still make calls on her own phone, she tried Skip’s number. His voice mail picked up right away and would as long as they had an account, even though the actual device was probably lying on the bottom of the ocean. It felt so odd to hear his voice...but she liked leaving him messages. It wasn’t important that he’d never hear them. At least she got to say all the things she’d never said. She got to tell him what she thought of him and how sorry she was that she’d ever married him. That Alexa was the only good thing to come out of their years together, and he was missing out on raising her. That stealing had cost him more than he’d ever gained. She also got to tell him that she finally had a job, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. She figured that had to be therapeutic. So when her cell rang as she was pulling to a stop at the corner a couple of blocks from the school, where she picked up Alexa to avoid the crush in the parking lot, it was already out of her purse and on her console. She’d just used her Bluetooth headset to leave him one of those messages—the one about having a job.

  According to caller ID, Eve was trying to get hold of her. Sophia remained in her car, enjoying the oven-like warmth it provided against the cold, windy afternoon, while she waited for Alexa and answered.

  “How was your first day at work?”

  Eve sounded chipper, was obviously trying to keep Sophia’s spirits up. Sophia appreciated the effort—and responded with enthusiasm. “Fine,” she said but then she laughed as she remembered certain parts of it.

  “Was that a loaded response?”

  “We both survived it. Let me put it that way.”

  “Give me more details! What was the worst moment?”

  She thought of Chief Stacy’
s visit but decided not to mention it. That was too negative for a festive night like Halloween. “When I failed my typing test shortly after I arrived.”

  “Oh, no!” She started laughing, too. “Ted gave you a typing test?”

  “He did. And I can tell you he wasn’t impressed with the results.”

  “I’ll help with the clerical stuff, if you need me to. What does he want typed?”

  “He didn’t say.”

  “Then it must not be too important.”

  “Or else he did it himself.”

  “I’ll talk to him about it. And...the best moment of your day?”

  She considered the hours she’d spent in the kitchen. They’d been enjoyable. She loved his house. It was different enough to feel free-spirited, definitely didn’t resemble the gilded cage in which she’d lived with Skip. “He seemed to like the food I made. He ate enough of it. So...I have that going for me—at the moment, anyway. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll hit your groove once you get used to the demands of the job.”

  “I hope it gets easier.”

  “The first day is always the toughest.”

  Sophia wouldn’t know. She’d never worked for anyone except her father, who’d had her create and deliver flyers for various charities or serve at community events when he was mayor. He’d paid her for her time, to augment what he gave her, which was too much to begin with.

  However, she didn’t want to point out her lack of experience. She’d felt like an exception to the rule in Whiskey Creek for too long. “Are you going to the Halloween party tonight?”

  There was a slight pause. “I am. Would you like to come?”

  “No. I wasn’t fishing for an invitation. Alexa and I have plans.” That wasn’t necessarily true. Alexa was going to see about trick-or-treating with Emily, her softball buddy. But in case that didn’t pan out, Sophia wanted to be there for her. “I was wondering if you needed a costume.”

 

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