At that, Daniela’s stomach twisted. She pushed away her dishes, grabbed his hand and said, “Tell me, please.”
He cupped both of her hands and then gently rubbed them. Sari was happily chewing away on her pasta beside them, and Shambhala had quietly taken up residence below her for any food that fell off Sari’s high chair. He half suspected Sari was deliberately dropping some for her. But nothing was in their dinner the dog couldn’t eat and having Sari happily distracted right now wasn’t a bad thing. He explained what had happened throughout the day, and then, when he told her about the loan shark coming up from Vegas, Daniela gasped in surprise.
“Would they do that?”
“If there’s money to be had, sure. Apparently Grant and his wife had pooled a little money, and the twin brother, Gregory, knew about it. He came up here but changed his plans at some point and decided to leave Grant holding the bag with the loan shark, while he took off with Ginger.”
She winced at that. “Wow, after they took all the money, I suppose?” she said caustically.
He nodded. “Ultimately the loan shark got paid and left. Grant’s brother and his wife are dead, and Grant was sitting there, trying to figure out how to rebuild his life now that the homestead is mortgaged to the hilt. He finally did admit to having killed both of them and tried to hide it by staging the accident. He pushed the truck over the edge with them in it, and, after it didn’t blow up and burn on its own, he went down and torched it.”
Her jaw dropped open.
Weston nodded. “It’s always surprising to see the extent people will go to in order to get what they want.”
“Yeah. And Angel? How did she fit into your busy day?” she asked, bewildered.
“Get this. Apparently she owed the loan shark something too, though I don’t quite understand all that yet. Grant didn’t have the details but said she’d arrived with the loan shark and made reference to an opportunity for a payout here. Something to do with a baby.”
Instinctively she turned and looked at Sari; then her horrified gaze flipped back at him.
He nodded. “I just don’t know exactly what that means yet.”
“She wouldn’t kidnap Sari, would she?”
“I hope not,” he said grimly. “The bottom line is, we’re not letting her have Sari.”
“But, if she did, what would she do with her?”
Weston had some really ugly ideas about that because he’d seen the ugly side of people too much in his life, but he didn’t want to say anything to Daniela.
“She would sell her, wouldn’t she?” Daniela said, clearly outraged.
“Until we find her, we don’t know. The detective had to bring the forensic team out to Grant’s place, and Kruger’s put out an APB for Angel. We could hope she’s disappeared, but we checked the airlines, and there’s no sign of her having left.”
Weston watched as Daniela sagged in place. “Dear God,” she said. “How can we possibly be surrounded by so many horrible people?”
“Not everybody is like your husband,” he said, “and not everybody is like Angel.”
“What about Grant, Gregory and Ginger?” she asked sarcastically.
“And what about all the other people around here, like the two mothers you spent time with today? Like the waitress at the restaurant? Like your sister? Like the detective who’s helping us?”
She calmed down and mustered up a smile. “No, you’re right. But it’s all really sad, isn’t it?” She got up, grabbed the dishes from the table and said, “I’ll put on some coffee.”
“Do you have tea?” he asked hopefully.
She stopped, turned to look at him and said, “Do you like tea?”
“I love tea,” he said. “I drink coffee all morning, but I do like tea in the evening.”
She smiled. “I don’t think I know another man who drinks tea.”
“I spent some time in England and became quite a convert,” he said.
She nodded. “Tea it is then.” As she walked by, she bent down to kiss Sari on the cheek. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I think the dog is getting fed better than Sari is tonight.” Laughing, she headed into the kitchen.
He wasn’t sure if she would go cry while she did the dishes, but he figured she needed something to do with her hands. He shuffled closer to Sari, only to see Shambhala resting her chin on Sari’s footrest Even as he watched, Sari reached down, picked up a piece of sausage and dropped it over the edge. Shambhala eagerly caught it midair.
He sighed. “Sari, doggy doesn’t need more food.”
She beamed at him. “Doggy, doggy.” Then she picked up a whole handful of pasta and threw it on the floor.
He groaned, grabbed her bowl and, using her fork, tried to pop a few more bites into her mouth, but she wasn’t having anything to do with it. He studied the bowl, then checked on the dog, her good eye giving him the most soulful look, staring back up at him.
“How am I supposed to know how much she ate if you’ll clean up all the leftovers?” he asked the dog. But no answers were to be had from Shambhala.
When Daniela came back out, he said, “How do you know when Sari’s eaten enough?”
She smiled and said, “If she hasn’t, she’ll want more later.” She looked at the bowl and shrugged. “It’s really hard to tell with Shambhala in the picture, isn’t it?”
“That’s what I was just trying to explain to them,” he said, chuckling.
Daniela lifted the high chair tray up over Sari’s head and scooped her up from the seat. “Regardless of who got what,” she said, “it’s obvious she’s wearing a good portion of it as well.”
But Sari was so happy and delighted to be feeding the doggy that, as soon as they moved away, she started screaming. Daniela wouldn’t listen though and took her straight inside.
Weston looked down at Shambhala. “What will we do, girl?”
Shambhala just looked at him as if to say,
