Blackberry Crumble (30 page)

“What is it that you do?” Sadie asked. Unable to stand still, as usual, she went to the sink and began rinsing dishes—all four of them that had already been rinsed twice. Gary followed her into the kitchen.

“It’s hard to pin me down with a title,” Gary said, chuckling slightly at the comment. He rested his hips against the counter a few feet from Sadie. “I have ownership in a few different businesses. I suppose you can call me a jack-of-all-trades because I do whatever it takes in whatever arena I find myself in to get the job done.” His smile sparkled.

Sadie smiled back, but she found herself hesitant to form a positive opinion about him. There was something about him that screamed “used car salesman.” Plus, he was supposedly here to pick up his sick wife, but he hadn’t asked about her at all. Instead, he was chatting up a friend of May’s whom he’d never met and had little reason to think he’d ever meet again.

“What kinds of businesses do you own?” Sadie said, feigning more interest than she felt.

“Well,” he said, smiling again and moving around the kitchen island in order to slide onto a barstool. “I’m part-owner in a thriving direct-mail company, and I also serve as CEO for a car dealership in town.”

“A car dealership,” Sadie repeated, keeping her expression from showing her smugness at having correctly determined why he came across the way he did.

“But mostly, I handle investments.”

“Like financial planning?”

“Exactly,” he said, giving her a good-girl smile for having properly figured it out. If she leaned forward, she felt sure he would pat her on the head. “I help people capitalize on their financial futures by building upon their current financial foundations, which allows them to one day attain the freedom from the day-to-day money worries that so many of us are plagued with.”

Sadie had no doubt that he rattled off that speech a few times a day. She continued to nod and appear interested.

“For instance, what do you do for a living? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“I’m retired,” she said.

Did she imagine the sudden straightening of his posture, the increased focus in his eyes?

“Oh, surely you’re kidding,” he said, dropping his chin and raising his eyebrows. “No way you’re old enough to be retired.”

Oh, he oozed with salesmanship, but she saw no reason not to play along. She might not yet have formed an opinion about him, but he was definitely intriguing.

“Nearly thirty years with the school district.” She almost said “in Colorado,” but stopped herself. Admitting she was from a different state than May would blow her cover. “I taught second grade.” She lifted her shoulders as though to indicate that she couldn’t figure out how it was she was old enough to retire either. In all actuality, she’d taken an early-retirement window and had therefore only worked twenty-four years, but it didn’t seem an important detail to bring up right now.

“So, you’re drawing a pension.”

Sadie nodded.

“Excellent! That’s a perfect scenario. What’s your percentage—three-quarters of your outgoing salary?”

“Two-thirds of my median income based on the last five years I taught,” Sadie said. She turned off the water, dried her hands, and leaned back against the counter, suspecting that her interest would simply encourage him to continue.

He shook his head and tsked. “I’ll keep to myself my personal views on how the education systems of our country
ought
to reward those committed to the cause of future generations.” He smiled at Sadie in reverence for their shared connection to the virtue of education before continuing. “Besides, we play the hand we’re dealt, right?”

“Absolutely,” Sadie said, checking the sarcasm in her tone before realizing he wasn’t catching any of it anyway.

“So, you’re given two-thirds your outgoing salary to live on for the rest of your life. What if I were to tell you that there was a way to double that amount?” He looked at her eagerly, perhaps waiting for her to clasp her hands together and gasp in astonishment.

“How?” she asked simply.

“Through the intricacies of compounding interest, maximization of real estate values, and some savvy investments on your part, this time next year you could be bringing in twice the income you’re pulling now. Not only would your quality of life improve exponentially, but you’d have the kind of security that no pension could offer you.”

“Wow,” Sadie said. “That’s really amazing.”

He winked at her. “And that’s only the beginning,” he said slyly. He pulled a card out of his pocket and handed it to her. She noticed the corners were bent. The logo consisted of a crown sitting above the words “King Me!”

“‘King me’?” she asked, looking up at him.

He was still grinning. “Like in checkers. You make it to your opponent’s side and your stature doubles. That’s exactly what I can do for you, Mrs. Hoffmiller. You and I having this discussion qualifies as you having made it across the board.”

“But I don’t even live in Oregon.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said with a confident shake of his head. “With King Me on your side, the world is your oyster, and all the pearls belong to you. It would only take a few hours to work out the details, and you would be on your way to the real American dream.”

“Which is?”

“Financial security,” he said simply. “That’s what we all want more than anything in the world—the promise that we will be cared for regardless of what challenges we might face.”

“And that’s what you’re selling,” she said, almost biting her tongue when she realized how antagonistic that sounded.

He didn’t notice her tone. “Exactly. So, do you think May will let you out of packing long enough to explore the possibilities with me?”

“Um, well, I’d have to ask her,” Sadie said, backpedaling quickly. “And talk to my brother, of course. He’s an accountant and has managed my financial affairs for years.”

Gary’s smile faltered only a little bit. “But they are
your
financial affairs, right?”

“Of course,” Sadie said. “But he’d need to be involved since he’s far more aware of where I stand than I am.”

“Well, sometimes—and I mean no disrespect to your brother—but sometimes those trained in the more rote methods of finance, such as the training expelled through most educational institutions, have a difficult time thinking outside of the box in regard to opportunity. Certainly talk to him, that’s only fair, but be wary of him dismissing the idea out of hand. It wouldn’t hurt for you and me to sit down so I can show you the opportunity first and prepare you for that discussion; put you two on equal ground, so to speak. There’s also the added consideration that—and again, I mean no disrespect—but sometimes things as petty as jealousy can get in the way. Relationships are often based on a hierarchy, and if he’s the brother who takes care of his retired sister and that role becomes threatened, well, that’s something to consider.”

Sadie nodded and kept her thoughts to herself. Jack would laugh his head off when she repeated this pitch to him. “I see your point.”

“So, what do you think, tomorrow? I could even make room for you on Saturday if you’d prefer.”

Sadie happened to glance at the clock, shocked to see it was already 8:10. She was meeting Richard in less than an hour. She held up the business card. “I’ll let you know,” she said before putting it in her back pocket. “I’m actually on my way back to my hotel, though. In fact, I’m running late.”

“Well, maybe you could give me your cell phone number, and I could follow up with you tomorrow.”

He had his phone out of his pocket within moments.

“Oh, well, I—”

He reached out and put his hand over her own. She looked down, noting that he most definitely had had a manicure recently, and then back up at him. “With all you’re doing to help May right now, the least I can do is take one more worry off your shoulders. Let me give you a call tomorrow, and we can set up a time.”

Sadie had a sudden desire to run his name through some of the sites her new book told her about. He was slick as oil on a rain-washed street, and she wondered what a basic background search on him might bring to light. “Sure,” she said, then gave him her number after he pulled his hand back.

“Well, until tomorrow then,” he said, tipping an imaginary hat in her direction. “I suppose Jolene’s in her room?”

Ah, he’d remembered his wife. How sweet. Sadie nodded.

“I’ll go look in on her,” he said, heading toward the hallway. He paused and turned back, “Unless you’d like me to see you to your car?”

“No, of course not,” Sadie said, waving the idea away. “Jolene was eager to see you, and I monopolized you long enough.”

“Until tomorrow then,” he said, apparently forgetting he’d used that line already.

He disappeared, and Sadie rolled her eyes before grabbing her purse and the files she was taking with her—only one of which she really needed. She fished for her keys as she headed toward the rental car parked at the curb. Gary Tracey was definitely someone she wanted to learn more about, but not at the risk of being unprepared for her meeting with Richard.

It wasn’t until she was halfway back to the hotel that she remembered the wording of the On Death stipulations of Jim Sanderson’s will. It said point-blank that none of his children’s spouses were to inherit in their place. Jolene was the only married beneficiary, meaning that Gary was the only person in Jim Sanderson’s circle who had, essentially, been cut out.

Chapter 34

It was 8:45 when Sadie opened the door of her hotel room. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the two beds—one still filled with newly purchased equipment and the other calling to her in a seductively soothing voice. She was tired. Her back hurt from all the bending and lifting, and she was unsettled by many things that were hard to define. But the day wasn’t over yet. Richard was coming in fifteen minutes, and Sadie felt a rush of nerves. After having Lois confirm the details of Richard’s relationship with May, Sadie wondered how May would react if she knew Sadie was meeting with her ex-fiancé. And what about the promise Sadie had made to put May and Richard in the same room? Why had Sadie promised such a thing that, after talking to Lois, sounded like a really bad idea?

Still, she needed what Richard had to give her and had to focus on that right now. She freshened up a bit and then headed to the common area of the hotel with her laptop and the files she’d copied, as well as those she hadn’t made copies of yet. It wasn’t until she’d set up her computer on a nearby table and sat down on one of the couches in the lobby that she realized she’d left her purse in her room. She grunted, not wanting to pack her stuff back up in order to get her phone and knowing it was inappropriate to leave it here while she checked. After a momentary debate, she decided not to worry about her phone. She didn’t want anything to interrupt her meeting with Richard. If for some reason he didn’t show up, then she’d have a reason to get her phone and see if she could track him down.

She opened Hugh’s file and flipped through the contents: a copy of Hugh’s birth certificate, Social Security card, school transcripts and a variety of programs, report cards, and childhood artwork that seemed brittle after so many years. As she looked through everything, she was reminded that despite who Hugh was now, he’d once been a child, a teenager, and a young man who’d lost his mother tragically. She needed to remember that as she moved forward.

After fingering though the proof of his earlier years, Sadie came upon several contracts between Jim and Hugh. She guessed Jim had typed up the financial contracts himself—they didn’t look official at all. One, dated 2001, was about Hugh repaying a $10,000 loan. In 2002, there were two contracts: one for a loan of $2,500 and another one for $4,000, in addition to $1,300 still owing from the prior loan. In 2004, there was a contract for $7,000, as well as $3,600 from the prior total. And then there were no more contracts. Did that mean Hugh didn’t borrow any more money, or had Jim stopped expecting to be paid back and therefore hadn’t bothered with contracts anymore?

At the back of the folder was an envelope. Sadie opened it and removed a letter.

Dad,

I know you’re tired of hearing this, but I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, or why I can’t get this under control. I’m going to kick it, though, I am! I’m going to make you proud of me, and I’m going to prove to you that I can be trusted again. You’re the only person who really loves me. I’ll make good this time. I swear it.

Love,

Hugh

Sadie swallowed the lump in her throat as she refolded the letter and put it back in the envelope. There was no date on the letter and the envelope hadn’t been postmarked, so she had no idea when the note had been written. Hugh sounded sincere, though, and Sadie had no doubt that as he had penned those words, he’d meant what he said. If only recovering from an addiction was solely dependent on desire to do so. She thought again about his poker-chip key chain. It was a blatant display; there was nothing being hidden. She didn’t imagine that many recovering alcoholics carted a beer around with them, and the fact that Hugh was advertising his passion made it difficult to believe that he’d left his vice behind.