“I guess some information he inquired about still hadn’t come through when he gave me his report. It came through the other day, and he thought it was something I would want to know, so he called me.”
I nodded.
“So I met him at his office so he could give it to me and explain the documents.”
“What kind of documents?”
“Financial statements mostly. All dated from the year of your mother’s death. Bounced checks. Notices from the mortgage lender who financed your house. There were also more current statements showing the same kind of pattern reemerging in recent months.”
My hands tightened around the mug and a sick feeling twisted my stomach. “What pattern?”
“Your father is in debt, Rimmel,” Valerie said without heat or accusation. “Very heavy debt. He’s behind on the mortgage payment, the utility bills, and he was fired from his job.”
“That’s not true,” I ground out.
“Was your insurance card accepted at the hospital?” she asked as if she already knew the answer.
“That’s none of your concern,” I said, brushing away the correct assumption. “My father went to work every day while I was visiting over Christmas break.”
Sadness flashed in her eyes. “Are you sure it was work he went to?”
“Where else would he have gone?” I snapped.
“Apparently, he spends a lot of time at a nearby casino.”
I laughed.
She ignored it. “There is also some evidence of him visiting a few off-the-books gambling houses, and some of the documentation leads to illegal gambling and betting.”
“What the hell kind of evidence could you possibly have to support that?”
“My investigator has photos of your father going into the establishment long suspected by the local authorities there of illegal gambling.”
I felt like someone sucker punched me in the gut. But even the sick feeling wasn’t enough to convince my mind—my heart—that this was real.
“I want to see the documents.”
She nodded, abandoned her coffee, and left the room. I took the moment alone to pull in a shuddering breath and run through the couple weeks I’d been home over break.
My father dressed in his construction clothes every morning before he left. He’d leave me at the table with the newspaper and kiss me on the head. He’d take the bagged lunch I made him and tool belt every time he walked out the door.
He was gone all day long.
A couple times, he missed dinner.
He would call and say it was going to be a late night at the job and he was sorry.
I believed him.
He wouldn’t lie.
He had a couple days off while I’d been home. Those days he did seem a little distant, sort of preoccupied, but it wasn’t because he was sitting there wishing he were gambling.
What kind of man would rather sit at a betting table than spend his time with his only child?
I thought back to when I told him about Romeo, about how I was surprised he wasn’t more opposed to the idea of me dating. I still remember the look of doubt that crossed his face, the display of concern when I talked about my boyfriend. I’d thought for sure I was going to get a lecture, but then this look passed behind his eyes, and whatever he was going to say died on his tongue.
He said he only wanted me to be happy.
Was the reason he didn’t tell me I couldn’t date because he was doing something he knew I’d never approve of?
Valerie came back into the room carrying a plain-colored file folder. She slid it across the table in front of me without a word.
I set aside my coffee and opened the file.
Inside were full of bank statements, internet screenshots, security camera photos, and even information on the “underground” gambling ring going on in Florida.
It all looked so official, even if I wondered how the hell the PI got access to some of it.
At the bottom of the pile was a report. A copy of the official police report filed on my mother’s death.
This was something I’d never seen before.
As I read it, I couldn’t stop the rush of tears from falling down my cheeks. There was so much here that I didn’t know.
How could I have not known about any of this?
I curled my hand into the too-long sleeve of Romeo’s shirt and used it to mop up the tears dripping off my chin.
As I sat there and cried and read through the report, Valerie said nothing. She did nothing. She just sat there and watched.
I felt her gaze. I felt the shrewd way she stared. It was intrusive, and I hated she saw this vulnerability.
But I couldn’t stop the way I reacted to all this information.
I sniffled a little and lowered the report to take a breath, still unable to tear my eyes away from what I was reading.
Somewhere in the house, a door slammed.
Romeo appeared in the kitchen, his footsteps halting when he saw the pair of us sitting together in the small nook. He noted the tears on my face, and I was sure he caught the bleak look in my eyes.
“What the hell did you say to her?” he growled and rushed around the table and grabbed the remaining empty chair. It made a scraping sound when he dragged it close to me and sat, angling his body toward mine and spreading his legs so me and my chair were partially between him.
His left hand fingered the top of the file I was holding. “May I?”
I refused to let go of the report. Instead, I turned it toward him so he could see what I was reading.
It took him a moment to understand. I heard him whisper, “Tampa Police department, official investigation,” beneath his breath, and then he gasped with understanding.
“You fucking have the police report from her mother’s death?” he spat.
“It’s a copy,” she replied.
Romeo’s hand fell into my lap and wrapped around my thigh. “You don’t have to look at that, baby,” he murmured.
“Yes,” I said. “I do.”
“Roman.” Valerie began, and I flinched.
I wasn’t about to listen to her offer excuses.
“You had no right to do this.” My voice was cold and hard. “No right at all.”
She didn’t say anything. It was probably for the better.
“I don’t know how you got half of this information, and really, it doesn’t matter. I don’t believe it.”
“You can’t ignore the facts. They’re there in black and white,” she rebuked.
I sucked in a breath and jumped up from my chair. “All you have is black and white,” I said. “I have memories. In color. I have words and actions. I have hugs and kisses, holidays spent with two parents who loved me. Who loved each other. I don’t know what I did to make you hate me so much, but this is vile. How dare you try and take away the memories I have left of my mother.”
“I’m not trying to take away anything.”
“No. You’re just trying to make me think my father killed her,” I spat. Romeo stood and laid a hand against my stomach, gently trying to pull me into him. I resisted and faced off against his mother.
“There is nothing to suggest that in here.” I slammed the folder on the table.
“Finish reading the report,” she said without heat.
I snorted. “The truth is you disliked me from the minute you laid eyes on me. You judged me in a split second based on the way I look. I may not be beautiful like you. I might not have money for fancy clothes or a stylist to make my hair look like I just stepped out of a salon. But my insides are beautiful. I have the kind of beautiful that can’t be paid for. I have the kind of beauty my mother gave me.”
She stood and opened her mouth. I made a slashing motion in the air with my hand.
“I’m sorry you don’t approve of me. But I’m not going anywhere. I love Romeo and I’m not going to stop. I’m telling you from here on out to stay out of my life. I’ll never keep you from Roman, but I want nothing t
o do with you. This”—I held up the folder—“is too much. I’ll work with you on the fundraiser because I committed myself and because the animals need me, but once that is over, so is our relationship.”
Valerie actually paled. She looked at Romeo with pleading eyes.
“You did this to yourself, Mom.”
“I’m keeping this.” I tucked the file beneath my arm and left the room.
My heart was beating so hard within my chest that the only sound I could hear was my blood traveling through my veins. My hands trembled and my knees felt wobbly, but I stood tall. Out in the hall, I sagged against the wall and pulled in a deep breath. A rogue tear spilled down my cheek and I wiped it away.
I heard the low exchange of Romeo’s and his mother’s voices, but I didn’t even try to hear what they were saying. Seconds later, Romeo stepped into the hall and without hesitation, he pulled me into his chest. I sank into him and sighed.
Read the rest of the report. Her stupid words bounced around in my thoughts.
What good would it do?
My mother was dead and she wasn’t ever coming back.
Did it really matter how she died?
Yeah.
Yeah, maybe it did.
Chapter Twelve
Romeo
Rimmel made it clear I didn’t have to choose between my mother and her.
Yet it was my mother who had drawn a line in the sand.
She hadn’t so much as said the words, but her actions… those were loud and clear.
I had no idea she had a copy of the police report from the Rimmel’s mother’s death. The stricken look on Rim’s face when I walked in and saw her reading it told me she hadn’t even seen it.
Why my mom thought it was a good time to bring this shit out in the open was lost on me. I understood she thought she was doing the right thing, but what I didn’t understand was why she thought that.
I couldn’t stand to see Rimmel hurt this way. It twisted my guts.
My mother was in for a rude awakening if she thought I wouldn’t stand by my girl.
“Why’d you come over here, babe?” I asked Rim as I enclosed her tight against my chest.
“Because I needed answers.”
“Did you get them?”
She tipped up her face. “I have more questions now.”
I swiped the pad of my thumb across her cheek, removing the last trace of her tears. “Dad wanted to talk to us, but I’ll tell him we’ll come back later.”
“No.” She pulled back from me and straightened. “Let’s talk to him now. I’m fine.”
“You’re sure?”
She took my hand and pulled me toward my father’s office. He was sitting at his desk, staring down at some papers in front of him.
“We’re here, Dad,” I said in way of greeting.
He looked up and smiled. “How’s the eye, Rimmel?”
“It’s fine, thank you.”
He glanced at my arm but didn’t say anything. We sat in the two chairs adjacent to his desk and waited for whatever he wanted to tell us.
“I had a call from my computer guy yesterday. The one who went through your laptop, Rimmel, to see if he could find any trace of tampering with your programs.”
She sat forward in her seat, her eyes intent on my father. “Did he find anything?”
“He did.”
She sagged back in the chair like a ten-pound weight had lifted free of her shoulders.
“I knew it,” I said.
Dad nodded. “It’s really not a surprise to any of us. He’s sending over a formal report of his findings today, and I’ll forward it on to the dean.”
“What did he find exactly?” I asked.
“Some kind of software that is undetectable to the average computer user was installed that allowed a third party to access the information store.”
“So every time I saved my paper, with all the new information I added, he had access to it,” Rimmel surmised.
“Yes,” Dad replied.
“Will this be enough to get her scholarship reinstated and the probation lifted?”
“I have every reason to think so.”
“What about Zach? Will he be expelled for this?” Rimmel asked.
“We would have to have concrete proof that Zach did this, which unfortunately, we do not.”
“How the hell is that possible?” I demanded.
“Every time someone accessed her laptop and information, it was done through a different IP address. None of those addresses matched Zach’s laptop. It was mostly done through public computers. Internet cafes, a library across town, etc.”
“So he just gets off, scot free?” Frustration pumped through me and made it hard to breathe. How could someone who’d done so much not be punished?
“I wouldn’t say that,” Dad replied. “Zach is going to be put away for a very long time. There’s no way he’ll get out of what he did to you and Rimmel last night.”
Had it only been last night? God. It felt like an eternity ago.
“Where is he now?” Rimmel asked.
“He’s still in the hospital. Turns out his jaw wasn’t dislocated. It was broken. They had to wire it shut.”
Gee. I felt super bad.
Not.
“His nose is also broken, and because of the head injury from when he hit the pole, he was kept overnight for observation.
“But he’s going to jail, right?” Rimmel asked.
Dad ran a hand over his face. He looked tired. I wondered how much sleep he’d gotten. It occurred to me that both my parents were under a lot of stress right now. This shit wasn’t just affecting me and Rim, but everyone around us.
“There’s a very high chance that Zach will be sent to some kind of treatment center.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“He won’t go to jail, babe. He’s going to get locked in a padded cell.”
She fell silent as she digested the information. “Well,” she said after a few moments. “He definitely is crazy.”
Dad laughed. “I’d have to agree.”
“But he won’t be able to get out?” she asked. The underlying worry in her tone made my fists tighten.
“Correct. He will be involuntarily admitted.” Dad shuffled some papers around and continued. “But this isn’t concrete. There’s still a chance he’ll end up in jail. There is going to be a closed hearing next week. You’re both going to need to be there.”
“What’s it for?” Rimmel’s tone was between curious and dread.
“His father pulled some strings. Used the fact that he’s clearly unstable and injured to get a closed hearing in the judge’s chambers instead of an actual trial. Basically, Robert will be representing his son, and I will be representing both of you. You’ll go, tell the judge your side of the story, and then he’ll bring down a sentence.”
“Next week?” she asked.
He nodded. “This is fast. Usually, it takes longer. But because of Robert’s position in the community and the fact that this has become a high-profile case, especially on campus, all parties involved want to get it settled.”
“I’m glad. The sooner they ship him off to the loony bin, the better off we’ll all be,” I muttered.
“Yes. I agree,” Dad said. “But don’t use those exact words in court.”
Rimmel giggled, and my father winked at her.
“When I know the exact time and date we’ll need to be in court, I’ll let you know. Let’s get together in a day or so to go over everything so you’re prepared.”
“Thank you so much for doing this. You’ve really helped me, and I don’t know how to repay you,” Rimmel said.
“No repayment is necessary.” He smiled. “Family takes care of family.”
Her eyes turned misty, and I cleared my throat. “Thanks for all the info, Dad. If that’s everything, we better go. Rimmel needs to take a shower. She stinks.”
Rimmel gasped and stared at me with wide eyes. “I do not!” Then s
he fell silent. “Do I?”
Both my father and I laughed.
She picked up a pen off the desk and threw it at me. I batted it away with ease.
Rim shook her head and smiled.
Mission accomplished. I was tired of seeing that forlorn look on her face.
“Anthony,” my mom said, opening the door and coming into the room. Her steps faltered when she saw Rim and I were sitting there.
Rimmel stiffened.
“Yes, Valerie?” Dad said.
“I didn’t know you were busy,” she said, glancing at me.
I stood. “We were just on our way out.”
“Do you need anything for your arm? Is everything okay?”
I sighed. I was tired of conflict. It seemed to surround us. “No, Mom. I’m fine. But thank you.”
Her eyes softened and she nodded.
“Come on, stinky,” I said and held my hand out to Rimmel.
She snorted and took it. I shut the door behind me on the way out.
“Stinky?” she asked, lifting her eyebrow and glancing at me.
I grinned. “I know you have an aversion to taking a shower lately,” I quipped, “but I feel the need to take one.”
“And what does that have to do with me?”
“I’m gonna need some help. I can’t wash myself with one hand.”
I damn well could, and we both knew it.
“Hmm, well, that is a problem.”
We stepped outside and started across the yard to my place. It was still snowing, and the fact that I wasn’t wearing a shirt caused my muscles to tighten against the chill.
“If I protect you from the water, maybe you could wash all my two thousand parts?” I said.
The mention of the water took some of the humor and desire out of her face. I tugged her hand and pulled her around so she faced me.
“If it’s too much, you just say the word,” I told her.
She stared straight ahead at my bare chest. She lifted a finger and brushed against my pec. “The snowflakes are melting against your skin.”
“It’s because I’m hot,” I replied, smug.
She smiled. “You definitely are.” One of her fingers flicked over my hardened nipple.
I caught her hand and lifted it to my lips. Gently, I sucked the tip of her finger into my mouth and swirled my tongue around it.
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