The Life She Wants (26 page)

“Don't worry, Mrs. Curry,” Riley said. “We're close. We'll check on him frequently. And we're just a phone call away if Jock needs anything.”

After his mother left to pull her car to the front of the hospital, Jock said, “Thanks, Riley. But there's nothing to worry about. I'm finally going to have time to watch all those golf tournaments I recorded. I'm not going to need help with anything. I'm not going to be moving furniture.”

“You're just going to camp on the couch, right?”

“That's my plan.”

“Maddie's back in school so we'll swing by after school tomorrow and we won't stay long.”

“Stay as long as you like. Or you can just drop Maddie off if you feel like it.”

But she didn't feel like it. She wanted to take stock of his refrigerator, make sure his house was tidy because he couldn't do it; she even put fresh sheets on his bed because there was no telling how long it had been.

She left Maddie with Jock and went to her mother's house. She asked for some of her plentiful stock of frozen meals she had prepared for her volunteer meal service. For Jock, she explained.

“This is interesting—you going to such trouble for Jock,” June said.

“Did you see how frightened and upset Maddie was when he got hurt? Had surgery? I knew Maddie was close to Jock but for some reason I thought it was no closer than she is to Adam. But I was wrong—she's very close to Jock. I'm going to have to try harder to get along with him.”

June gave her a dubious look and said, “Of course.”

She didn't take the meals to Jock's house. She took them home and put them in her freezer before going to collect Maddie. Then the next day at around noon she retrieved them and dropped in on him.

He answered her knock looking a little rumpled, scruffy and slightly stooped because his incision was still sore.

“Riley?” He looked over her shoulder, looking for Maddie.

“It's just me. I brought some of Mother's meals for your freezer. And I also have some milk, orange juice, eggs, bread, lunch meat and veggie salad from the deli.”

“You didn't have to do all that,” he said, but he let her in. “Aren't you working today?”

“Uh-huh,” she said, loading things into the refrigerator and freezer. “I took a long lunch. These meals are all frozen, thaw in just a few hours and they're labeled. You have meat loaf and mashed potatoes, mac and cheese, lasagna, that meatball concoction she makes...” She raised her head and listened. There wasn't even a TV on. “Were you napping?” she asked.

He indicated the kitchen table where his laptop was set up next to a cup of coffee. “Paying bills,” he said.

“Oh, Jock, are you going to have financial issues because of the accident?”

“Not serious ones,” he said, shaking his head. “I won't get what I need on that car, but I guess the lady—a girl, really—was charged with running the light so maybe her insurance company will step up.” He chuckled. “At least she has insurance. The last guy who rear-ended me didn't.”

Riley frowned. “Did someone rear-end you?”

“Ten years ago. Maddie wasn't in the car. She was still in a car seat back then, wasn't she? She wasn't in my car very often.”

Because Riley had avoided that as much as possible. Not because Jock wasn't a safe driver. Because she liked having control. Especially over him. She shook her head a bit mournfully. Maddie obviously adored him. And Riley had tried to give Jock as little time with her as possible.

“Have you had lunch?”

“Not yet. I'll graze around in there when you're done. And thank you. That was nice of you.”

“I'll make you a sandwich and some salad. Go ahead and finish with your bills. Do you have more coffee?”

“Right there,” he said, nodding toward the counter.

She was a little uncomfortable and she could tell Jock was both confused and suspicious. But she had to start somewhere. So he went back to his computer and she got out what she needed—knife, fork, plate, bread, mayo. She was impressed to see he was very tidy. His refrigerator was clean as a whistle—that was a good sign. “Nice,” she said. The refrigerator was always one of the last things to get scrubbed. He had lettuce and tomatoes, so she added that to the sandwich.

She bravely dished up a little salad for herself as well as him then delivered the plate to him. She made herself a cup of coffee and joined him at the table.

He looked at her for a long moment. “You're joining me for lunch?”

“Just a bite of this salad,” she said. “If that's okay.”

“It's okay. So you meant it. You want to be my friend?”

“Listen, if you'd rather I leave...”

“You want to just tell me what this is about?”

She put her hands in her lap, her salad and coffee untouched. “Right,” she said. “First of all, I felt bad about Christmas night, about the argument we had, and I couldn't stop thinking about it. You nailed it, Jock—I've been angry. It's true, and I thought I had every right to be angry. But then when you got hurt and I saw how terrified Maddie was, it hit me hard that you'd always tried with me, even if it didn't go very well most of the time, and I didn't really try with you. And our daughter loves us both.”

“Yes, she does.”

“And you've had a very close relationship with her, one that I was barely aware of. It seemed you didn't see her that often.”

He shrugged. “You weren't easy about that and there was no reason to make life tough for Maddie by pushing you too hard. So I got her a phone and—”

“She was much too young for that phone!”

Jock waited patiently for her to get over that little outburst and she did. There she was again, jumping to conclusions, controlling things. She twisted her lips a little. “Ach,” she said, chagrined.

“I got her a phone and a laptop so we could communicate and we stayed in close touch. I went to all her school things, when I could. My hours weren't always good—I had the store a lot of nights. But we were able to talk. She's so smart, Riley. Like you.”

Riley felt her cheeks grow a little hot, flushing. “You're smart,” she said. “She definitely got your legs.”

He laughed. “Yeah, you've been looking up at her since she was thirteen. She's a beauty.”

“I didn't know you'd told her about Emma. I didn't know a lot of the things you talked about.”

“I told Maddie it wasn't a good idea for her to carry stories about me to you and about you to me. I told her that would cause more friction between us. And she didn't want that.”

“I don't know where we start,” Riley said. “We've been kind of at each other's throats for a long time.”

“Not really. Not always,” he said. “I really pissed you off a few times but around Maddie we were always nice to each other. At least tolerant, thanks to June. But there is one thing that kind of grates on me. I don't know if I dare talk about it.”

“Maybe you better,” she said. “Let's get it all on the table.”

“You have to promise not to scream or throw things. I'm recovering from major surgery.”

“I have never...” She stopped herself because her voice had become shrill. “I've never thrown anything.”

He smiled. “You seemed angriest with me when I tried to tell you I cared about you. I wanted us to have a chance. I thought I could be a decent husband and I liked being a father. I knew I'd screwed it up completely in the beginning, I knew I wasn't really good enough for you, but I—”

“We didn't get off to a good start...” she said.

“My fault,” he said. “I don't have any excuses. I take that back—I have nothing but excuses. I was young and dumb, terrified, confused, not to mention I felt completely incompetent. I wanted to do the right thing and I was pretty sure I wasn't capable of it. I had no education, no money, just a shitty little part-time job—”

“It wasn't all your fault,” she said. “Look, there's no way you can understand this, but I had a lot to overcome. I was a poor kid. A poor fatherless kid. I'd cheated on my best friend with her boyfriend and she hated me, which she was bound to. I was ashamed and angry and pretty desperate. It gave me a little satisfaction to blame you for all my problems. Then I started my company and I was afraid to look up for at least twelve years. When you asked for another chance, I couldn't hear you.”

“I asked a few times...”

“You married Laurie...”

“I thought it might fix what was hurting. I shouldn't have done that to her.”

“But she dumped you!”

“We knew right away it wasn't working, but I'll be honest with you—I was going to stay. I wasn't going to fail twice. But if you think our relationship is complicated? Jesus, Laurie's life was a train wreck. She's back with her ex. They probably never should've divorced in the first place. And they fight twenty-four-seven.”

“Is it even possible for us to pick up the pieces after all this time and be friends?” she asked. “Do our grudges just run too deep?”

“I don't have any grudges, Riley. I've made peace with my screwups. I have a great family, a beautiful daughter, a good job, a few friends and a decent life. If we can be friends, I'll be a happy man.”

“Did we bicker too much in front of Maddie?” she asked.

He laughed a little bit. “No more than your average married couple,” he said. “You take one look at Maddie and know—she's pretty normal for a daughter of mine. You're a wonderful mother. And you're not the poor kid anymore, that's for sure.”

She sighed. “You can't imagine the kind of desperate ambition that took. I've craved a nap for fifteen years.” She gave him a long look. “Don't you ever get...lonely?”

He shook his head. “Hardly ever. Sometimes I go too long without seeing Maddie, but I can always talk to her. But lonely? Not so much. Do you?”

She nodded. “Even though I have good people in my life, too. Sometimes it feels like there's something missing.”

“Now,
that
I understand. So—is the new guy going to be okay if you're friendly with your daughter's daddy?”

“New guy?” she asked. Then she remembered. “Oh! Logan, the police officer. Um, I'm not sure that's going anywhere. He's a great guy. But...” She bit her lip.

“Riley, he's the first guy you've dated since we split,” he pointed out.

“Nah, I went out a few times,” she said. “Nothing ever clicked.”

He just smiled. “So here we sit. Two people who had a child together, raised a little girl together, bickered like cranky old married people and could never find anyone else to fill the gap. Doesn't that make you a little curious?”

“Let's be very careful here, Jock. If we screw up again, we might end up hating each other.”

“If I screw up again, you might end up hating me, but I'll never hate you. I never have. I've gotten a little pissed here and there, but I've always loved you. I just didn't know how to behave. I was a boy.”

He's not a boy anymore
, she thought. “Go slow,” she said.

They ate their lunch, talked about Maddie, then Riley cleaned up the kitchen and said she had to go back to work. He walked her to the door. Then he turned her toward him and put a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Be very careful, Riley,” he said. “I love you. I always have. But I'm not going back and forth. If being with me doesn't work for you, that's it. I don't want to experiment,” he said. “You're not the only one with feelings.”

“I know. I know.”

Chapter Nineteen

All the way to Aaron Justice's house Emma was anxious. She was looking forward to seeing him again but a little worried about how to pay him for the work he'd done when it turned out there was no money left in that estate. She should have called him and told him to stop whatever he was doing—he'd already invested valuable time. She'd find a way to pay him eventually. And she'd made up her mind—she wouldn't try to take that house away from her sisters. Really, it wouldn't make her happy anyway.

Aaron now kept a small office in his house, the home he'd shared with his late wife. It was a lovely house that Emma had never been to before.

“Emma, how good it is to see you. Come in, I've made us tea.”

He invited her to sit down. “I'm not sure how many details you recall from our visit when we went over your father's will immediately after his death. You were so young and in a state of grief. I encouraged you to call me, but you never did.”

Emma shrugged. “I didn't see the need,” she said. “I remember that you said there should be a little money to help with school, should I go to college. And Rosemary did send me spending money sometimes.”

He frowned. “Let's go over the conditions of the will just to refresh your memory.”

The assets John Shay had accrued were to be split in two—half to Rosemary, his wife, and half to be divided by the children. Rosemary was the executor of the will. She was also the trustee, which meant the inheritance held in trust for the children couldn't be spent on some young boyfriend. Emma almost laughed out loud—
as if!
The will included all three children, even though Anna was not John's biological child. And his plan had been to distribute the proceeds over time—half of their portion when each child reached the age of thirty, the second half at the age of thirty-five. Those assets, however, were available for certain reasonable expenses—welfare—as in the cost of housing and such, education, down payment on a home, extraneous medical expenses not covered by health insurance, etc.

“I paid for my own college,” Emma said.

“I know,” Aaron said. “As I told you, Rosemary got herself another lawyer soon after your father died. A few years after that she changed lawyers again. She asked her new lawyer to write her a new will, which she was entitled to do. But the money your father set aside for you and your sisters was part of an irrevocable trust, meaning that if she withdrew any of it on your behalf for things like college, she had to have records. And she was to inherit the house, as well—it was not held in trust. Emma, did you receive anything from your father's estate?”

Emma shook her head. “Rosemary said that just maintaining the house and raising three girls to the age of independence had been all she could afford. I counted myself lucky to get an allowance while I was in school. Small, but it helped.”

“She had receipts for tuition and housing...”

“She asked me for receipts. For records, she said.”

“When you were thirty, you were due some money.”

“Wow,” Emma said. “I didn't know that. Or maybe I just didn't remember. My father was a pretty simple guy. I knew there might only be enough to get Rosemary through the difficult period of getting three daughters into adulthood.”

“Rosemary's attorney has provided an accounting of the trust. I have a balance due you that might be grossly inadequate, given the house, the funding that was misdirected, small details, and I recommend a good forensic accountant. You should challenge the trustee.”

Emma let out a huff of rueful laughter. “Aaron, the trustee is dying. I saw her. She has very little time left and she wasn't pleasant. She asked me to leave her daughters alone—said that she's leaving the house and whatever money there is to them. I'm not going to challenge them. I'm not ever going back to court.”

“Unfortunately for Rosemary, she can't redirect the terms of the trust. The sum left to you is grossly inadequate. You're entitled to more. I'm afraid she was irresponsible.”

She shook her head. “I'll take whatever it is and I'll pay you, but I'm not going to pursue this—she can take the burden to eternity with her. Those mean girls who got the house and the bulk of my father's life savings and insurance can choke on it. I've learned a few things about money, Mr. Justice. It can turn sour in your mouth.”

“You should think about your future, nonetheless...”

“And challenge a will? Oh, wouldn't the newspeople love that. No, if there's a thousand bucks left, I'll pay you. Otherwise, the idea of going after my father's money just holds no appeal at all. I know, you'd think I'd be more pragmatic, but I watched what that whole thirst for money can do to a person. I'm cleaning toilets for a living, Mr. Justice. I have a boyfriend who's a schoolteacher, a wonderful schoolteacher. I feel richer now than I did when I was married to Richard. I don't need anything more. I'm good.”

He was speechless for a moment. His hands were folded primly on his desk and he looked at her earnestly. “Emma,” he said. “It's more than a thousand dollars.”

“Well, how lucky for me,” she said with a laugh. “And here I thought Christmas was over. How much then?”

“This would be half—what you were due at age thirty, with another payment due quite soon, when you're thirty-five. Before even doing an audit to see if there's more buried in there, it's $463,072.”

Emma's mouth hung open and she stared at him in shock. Then her eyes rolled back in her head and she fainted, falling off the chair and hitting the floor with a thud.

* * *

Sitting at his desk Logan felt frustrated by his failed attempts to get Riley alone at all over the holidays. First came family, he understood that. And she had explained that people didn't cancel housekeeping services, unless of course they were out of town and the office cleaning arm of the business stayed steady.

And then there was her ex's car accident. They might never have married but there was no disputing he was the ex. And although Riley insisted it was for Maddie's peace of mind and not hers, she was spending an awful lot of time with the guy.

But now the holidays were past, Maddie was back in school and the ex was cleared to go back to work. Everyone could get on a normal schedule and by the end of next month he and George would be closing out the surveillance on Emma Shay. Six months of watching and listening, no one had talked about money, the banking was tight as a drum, Emma was still cleaning houses and all seemed right with the world. It was possible the federal judge could extend the warrant, but it wouldn't be based on anything George and Logan had discovered. No calls to Aruba, no suspicious dialogue, no funny money.

“Good news,” Georgianna said. “We caught a break. She's moving money.”

“Huh?” he asked, dumbfounded.

“Large sums, too. We got a wire transfer for almost a half million.”

“No shit?” he said, stunned. “We know where it came from yet?”

“We'll know soon. We just have to exercise the warrant. And I think we notify the feds and offer to open an investigation.”

“We can notify the feds and let
them
open an investigation,” he suggested.

“It's our investigation,” she reminded him.

“It doesn't have to be.”

“Is this you making the easy choice?” she asked. “You skipping out so you don't mess things up with the girl? Should we pull you out of this investigation for conflict of interest?”

“There's nothing to indicate Riley had anything to do with Emma Shay's financial situation.”

George sighed, took a deep breath. “Emma's tied into the Kerrigan family in a big way. A bigger way than I think you realize. She works for Riley Kerrigan, she's sleeping with Adam Kerrigan, she's socializing with June Kerrigan, and the other guy? Your girl's ex? That was her boyfriend in high school and they've rekindled their friendship. She's referred to him in conversations with Adam. And there's another twist that makes me uncomfortable and suspicious. Emma Shay is having serious dialogue with a teenage girl she calls Bethany and I'm asking myself if that could be Maddie Kerrigan with an alias or a close friend of Maddie's. Emma and the girl are close. They seem bonded over something and I'm not sure what. The girl complains about her stepmother sometimes and Emma commiserates. Is it possible that it's Emma's child, given up for adoption? Could that be her motive for hiding money? A child?”

“What?”

“Just a thought. A guess, really. Quite a coincidence that Maddie Kerrigan is fifteen and this Bethany, whoever she might be, is fifteen and troubled. That aside, just with the money transfer we have enough probable cause. We'll get the okay, we'll get a little more traction on this then bring her in for questioning.”

He winced.

“There's a reason we don't get involved with our suspects.”

“Riley isn't a suspect!”

“She's a person of interest with a close relationship to our suspect.”

Logan knew this was not going to bode well for their relationship. Riley was not dumb. She was going to have no trouble connecting the dots. He didn't simply come upon her in the deli section, innocent of agenda or intention. He knew Emma had some connection to the Kerrigans and stumbled across Riley and then damn! She was just the kind of woman he wanted. Somehow, he thought he could get the skinny on Emma without damaging his budding relationship with Riley.

“This is why we don't shit where we eat,” George told him.

He knew why. He just didn't want it to be true this time.

* * *

It was the second week in January by the time Riley finally got around to having lunch with Logan. She invited him. They met at a small, quiet restaurant on a Sunday. Riley was already having a glass of wine when he arrived. He smiled a little sadly as he sat down at her table. “This is a little obvious,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“I'm in a barely populated restaurant at a somewhat isolated table on a Sunday so you can give me some bad news.”

She sighed heavily. “Come on,” she said. “Let's have a glass of wine. Let's talk. Let's have lunch.”

“I'll join you for the wine but I reserve judgment on the lunch.” The waiter was there immediately, taking his order. “You don't have to wait for the wine. Go ahead. Lay it on me.”

“What exactly do you think is going to happen here?” she asked.

“I think you're going to break up with me.”

“First of all, I hadn't considered us steadies,” Riley said. “And second, I know I've been hard to reach the past couple of weeks—since Maddie's accident—but that's exactly the sort of thing I hate about dating. Just because we have a few nice dates and fun conversations you have this expectation of some priority when I have a daughter, a business—”

“And an elderly mother?” he asked. “Don't spoil it, Riley. Men are clumsy assholes who just don't call when it doesn't work out the way they wanted. Women are completely different. They feel the need to be honest, to explain, to iron out all the details and make sure everything is smooth. Fixed.” His wine was delivered and he took a sip. Then he tapped her glass. “Do it. Do what you came here to do.”

“Wow, you make it seem horrible. I think from now on I'm going with the not-calling route.”

“Nah, this is classier. I'm ready to hear it. I think I know but I'm ready to hear.”

“What do you think you know?”

He shook his head. “No way. It's your show.”

“I'm sorry. I'm going to put our dating adventure on hold. Maybe for a while, maybe forever, time will tell. It seems I have some old issues to sort through. Some baggage. I'm as surprised as you are.”

“The ex,” he said.

“You shouldn't really call him that. He's Maddie's father.”

“And the accident made you realize how much you care about him,” Logan said. It was not a question.

“Not exactly, but close. We all spent Christmas dinner at my mother's, which is pretty typical unless Jock could convince me to let him take Maddie to his mother's house. And afterward I dropped by his house to talk about Maddie. Nothing urgent, just the fact that we're moving into a new phase in this co-parenting. She's growing up and we'll be visiting colleges next year! I realized I had never seen the inside of his house. I didn't know Maddie had a perfectly lovely room there that she hardly ever uses. I was a little shocked to realize how difficult and distant I'd been where Maddie and Jock are concerned and... Well, the next thing you know, there's an accident and he's seriously injured.”

“And you realized you nearly lost your chance?”

She shook her head. “No, it was Maddie. She verged on hysterical. She was so shaken and terrified—her father means a lot more to her than I realized. How could I have been so dumb? So I'm trying to help out a little—visiting him in the hospital, with Maddie of course, taking him some meals while he's recovering and most of all just talking to him.”

Logan looked down.

“My daughter is almost sixteen years old, Logan. And I've spent the last sixteen years being mad at Jock for being the idiot to screw up everything. More than once! And he's the first to admit he made some incredibly immature mistakes. I've been very pigheaded. I thought maybe it's time to know the guy now that he's grown up. I don't have any expectations—you'd think if we were meant to be a couple it would've happened long before now. But I want to explore the idea of us being friends, if you can understand that. One day we'll be grandparents to the same grandchildren.”

“And we can't date while you're working on getting along with your ex for the sake of the grandchildren?” he asked. “You're not fooling me, Riley. You want to be open to something more than friendship. Deny it, go ahead. Because I already know you don't lie.”