Take Me Home for Christmas

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.”