Heart thudding, he peeked inside the refrigerator. A nearly empty container of milk, two eggs, and a half-empty bottle of catsup. His alarm only grew when he pulled open the rest of the cabinets and found a few packages of Ramen, a canister of oatmeal, and some saltines tucked into one shelf. A bottle of wine lay on its side beside them. Everything else was bare.
He bit back a roar, his hands shaking with rage as he gripped the kitchen faucet and filled the glasses before striding across the room and taking a seat beside Seth. After sending the PI a sidelong glance that signaled more shit, he began mentally counting the minutes until they could talk and he could make some phone calls and start changing Heavenly’s life.
“Thank you for helping Heavenly and me tonight.” Abel took a long gulp from his glass, fighting his shaking hands. “We truly appreciate it.”
“We’re happy to,” Beck assured the man.
Seth nodded. “I wish we could do more.”
“I know this place isn’t fancy. It’s certainly not as big or homey as our farmhouse in Wisconsin…”
Abel’s uneven voice told Beck the man’s strength was fading, but he rambled on with the verve of someone lonely who suddenly had an audience willing to listen. He waxed on about how cozy their house had once been, about their dairy cows, about how much it had killed him to sell the farm once his illness had progressed.
“How much has Heavenly told you?” Abel’s voice quivered even more as the joy on his face dimmed.
As little as humanly possible. But Beck would love to hear whatever details the man was willing to spill since he clearly didn’t know shit.
“I’d appreciate it if you filled in the gaps,” Seth remarked as if he had all day to listen.
“In other words, she said nothing.” Abel sighed. “That girl… She’s private, a bit shy, and even more proud. You may have noticed she doesn’t trust easily.”
No, she didn’t. Not at all. Not when it mattered most.
“We did,” Beck grumbled. “Why is that?”
“Well, my wife left after I got sick, said she hadn’t signed up to spend her life taking care of an invalid. Heavenly was just a teenager, in school and far too young to manage the spread by herself.”
Beck’s heart tripped in his chest, thundering in his ears. He forced himself to keep his expression neutral.
I’m the guy your mother warned you about.
My mother never warned me about anything. I haven’t seen her in eight years.
Their conversation careened through Beck’s head. Sympathy and fury mingled and crushed him in a single wave.
“Heavenly must have taken that hard,” Seth murmured somberly.
“She felt so abandoned after Lisa walked out. I’m afraid the experience taught her that those who should care most often don’t give two shits. Unfortunately, she’s had to shoulder most of the responsibility since. But Heavenly is a good girl. She’s taken good care of me all these years.”
The man’s words went off like a bomb in Beck’s brain. In a couple of sentences, Abel had explained the reason Heavenly kept every last one of her fucking secrets to herself. She’d had no one to rely on since she’d been a child. Her own mother had crumbled the very foundation of Heavenly’s life before she’d been mature enough to understand. When she should have been thinking about boyfriends, football games, and prom, she’d been a cook, caretaker, maid, and helper. She might still be a virgin, but the minute her mother had abandoned her, she’d lost her goddamn innocence.
And there was another fucking mole to whack on the head…maybe one that could never be vanquished.
He knew now why Heavenly hadn’t asked him for help. But Beck still intended to take control of her situation.
Seth quickly banked his shock, then pinned him with a pointed stare. Yeah, he fully planned to stick his two cents in to help Heavenly, too.
Yippee.
“After I sold the farm, I rented a little house in town for us…” Abel went on about his illness, his doctors in Wisconsin, and the reason he and Heavenly had moved to LA. By the end of his speech, his strength had waned. His voice was cracking, his sentences trailing off.
“I promise I’ll make some phone calls and set you up with the best neurologist in the city,” Beck said, patting the man’s shoulder.
When he pulled back, he couldn’t help but notice the slew of prescription meds on the table beside the bed. After a quick scan of the labels, he closed his eyes and sighed heavily. Jesus, no wonder his little girl couldn’t afford food. Every dime she made waiting tables must be paying for medicine. If she had anything left over, it couldn’t be much.
The older man smiled in gratitude. “I can’t thank you enough. If your medical friends can’t cover all the expenses, maybe we can pay some now that Heavenly got that raise at the hospital and started working so many hours. It’s the only way we’ve been able to afford that gawd-awfully expensive medicine my doctor recently prescribed…”
Raise? Abel’s words sent Beck’s warning bells ringing, his pulse racing. His mouth went dry. The old man thought she earned money volunteering at the hospital? Was that the well-meaning lie she’d been telling her father so he wouldn’t worry?
Oh, little girl… You’re going to have the reddest ass when I get done with you. You will learn never to lie again.
Beside him, Seth tensed and whipped a concerned look Beck’s way. So the PI knew her “raise” was bullshit, too.
And if she barely had money to buy meds, how the hell was she paying rent?
Skin prickling, Beck glanced at the door. Heavenly had been gone a long time for someone who merely intended to drop off cash. And she hadn’t actually taken money with her.
Because she didn’t have any. So how exactly had she planned on keeping this
