“Lockbox?” He glanced up at Maggie and she nodded.
“It was in the garbage bag. Knew I shouldn’t have left that shit behind,” she muttered.
“You gotta key?”
“I busted it open with an ice pick.”
Ollie grunted and bent over, slowly brushing the dirt from the nondescript, black metal box buried in the soil. He dug around until he could lift it out. Then he stood, holding it carefully.
“As far as I’m concerned,” he told Maggie, “you get none of this.”
Maggie’s eyes were bleak, but Ollie chose to ignore her. Maggie Quinn was not his problem. If she’d come to him in the beginning, he would have bent over backward to help her. But she hadn’t done that. She’d put Allie and her kids in danger, and no bear would forgive a threat against his children.
He held the box out to Allie, but she shook her head. “I don’t have a safe. Do you? What do I do with it? I can’t take it to the bank.”
Ollie glanced at Alex. “The wolves have a safe.”
“We have a few of them,” Alex said. “I’ll keep it for you, Allie. Get it counted. We can figure out what to do about it after this is over.”
She nodded and hooked her arm through Ollie’s after he passed the box off to Alex. Then the six of them walked back to Maggie’s trailer where Ted pushed her to sit on the old picnic table while she cleaned her split lip.
Maggie kept her eyes on her brother. “What are you going to do to me?”
“I already told you,” Sean said quietly. “You’re gone.”
Maggie’s eyes sparked fire. “You can’t do that.”
“Watch me.” He kicked the tongue of her trailer. “Hope this thing moves, because you’re not staying in the Springs, Mags. I’m serious. And the old man will back me up. You’re gone.”
The color drained from her face. “For how long?”
“Ask me in a year.” Sean turned and started walking away.
Ollie had never seen his friend’s eyes so cold. But then, he didn’t have any siblings. Betrayal on the scale that Maggie had committed had a way of changing everything, even ties of blood. There was a coolness in Sean’s gaze. A weariness in the set of his shoulders. Leadership was never an easy burden, but Ollie wondered if it was one that would end up breaking his friend.
ALLIE hadn’t been able to kick him out of her bed that night either, but she had insisted he put on a shirt with his sweatpants.
“Loralie and Chris will come barging in. It’s almost a guarantee.”
“There are locks on the doors for a reason,” he muttered, closing his eyes and pulling her head to his shoulder.
“But not when they’re away from home and there are all these guards around. Not when everything is so… chaotic.”
He grunted, but he was quickly falling asleep. Ollie could hear his clan and the wolves circling the house. His bear approved. More predators in the den wasn’t usually a good thing, but if it kept the children safe, it was acceptable.
“Tell me this will be over soon,” she said quietly.
Ollie’s heart jumped.
What? No!
Allie sighed. “Tell me we’ll be able to go back to our house. Have normal lives again. You and I could… go to the movies. Take my dad’s boat out to the river on a Saturday. Have regular Sunday dinner and worry about Nerf guns instead of real guns.”
His heart calmed down when he realized she was just talking about the looming danger.
“It will,” he said. “I’m going to take care of this, and life will go back to normal.”
She snuggled in and whispered, “Okay.”
“Not gonna lie though.” He kissed the top of her head. “I like having you guys around.”
“You might not think that when you find out Chris broke your torque wrench this afternoon while Kevin was working on the Charger.”
Ollie winced. “The Craftsman?”
“The Snap-on.”
“The old one or the one with the digital read out?”
“Since one of the things he was using it for was taking the dog’s temperature, I’m guessing it was the digital.”
Okay, he could admit it. That hurt.
“Still glad we’re around?”
“Yes.” He pulled her onto his chest and swatted her backside. “But I may demand repayment for the torque wrench.”
She laughed. “I can live with that. For the first time in my life, I have some extra money lying around.”
Ollie lifted one eyebrow and spread a broad hand over her cheek. “Oh, that wasn’t the kind of repayment I had in mind.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
ALLIE STILL HADN’T WRAPPED her brain around the idea of having two hundred thousand dollars. She’d brought her bills over from the house but had hidden them in her room, embarrassed by how much red ink was on them. Now she spread them nervously across the kitchen table where she and Alex were drinking coffee.
“This all of them?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Have you totaled it up?”
“Around sixty grand all together. A little over that.”
Alex let out a low whistle but nodded and started tapping on the calculator with almost manic glee.
Allie let out a slow breath. It felt good to plan. She’d been holding on by the skin of her teeth for so long she’d forgotten that she’d been great with budgeting when she’d had a real paycheck to work with. This was all manageable. She could pay everything off and even stop asking for charity.
And Alex loved handling money. It was the reason she’d called him. Ollie was at the Cave, trying to catch up on his own paperwork after so many days off his regular schedule. Ted and Jena were both working. Sean was holed up with his uncle. He’d said something vague about making things right, but she didn’t know what that meant.
The whole town felt like it was on guard. There were extra volunteers at the schools, and ranchers and farmers had been warned to watch for any unfamiliar vehicles and call Alex or Ollie immediately.
People. She had them.
And this threat had gone far beyond her own small family. Simon Ashford, his mysterious boss, and whatever foreign shifters they had were a threat to everyone.
For now, she’d just concentrate on keeping the water running.
“So,” Alex said, “the first thing we need to do is get you current and pay off the smallest creditors. These casinos… I’m going to look into what they might take as a settlement. I don’t know if it’ll be successful, but we can try. After that—”
“What am I going to do with all that cash?” Allie felt the anxiety rising again. “I can’t just deposit it in the bank. Or can I?”
“Not if you don’t want a lot of questions from the IRS,” Alex said, still scribbling notes on a legal pad. “But… I think I just hired you as a consultant, so we’ll figure out a salary that gets you your money and still keeps things mostly legal. Just let me figure it out.”
Her eyes bugged out. “What?”
“Listen,” he said, folding his hands and looking up. “I was thinking about having you working at the resort anyway. You have a natural gift for hospitality. You could easily work in event planning once Loralie is in school full time. I’ll just… start paying you a little early.”
Allie blinked her eyes. “But… Alex, I have no experience in that kind of stuff.”
“Don’t be humble. I saw Christopher’s last birthday party, remember? You had thirty-two seven-year-olds at your house and no one was bleeding. That’s practically a miracle according to Jena. You ran that like a drill sergeant. And I should know, I was raised by one.”
“But that’s kid stuff!”
“So?” He laughed. “Is a business retreat going to be more difficult than thirty seven-year-olds and assorted younger siblings?”
Allie shrugged. Since grown-ups could pour their own lemonade, Alex might have a point.
“All that cash would raise flags if you deposit it, but the pack can always us
e cash. My dad was practically salivating when he saw all those small bills. I’ll pay you a regular salary starting now—you’ll have to pay taxes on it, but I’ll make sure you don’t get slammed—and when you start working for real, you’ll get the rest. It won’t be a lump sum, but you won’t get any inconvenient questions, either. Does that work for you? It’s up to you. That was just my first thought.”
“If I worked for you, I wouldn’t have to work at my dad’s store anymore,” she mused.
“Nope. And there are plenty of people looking for jobs. He’d have a line out the door when he started hiring.”
“But I might still want to work at the Cave.”
Alex shrugged. “It’s all details. We can work it out. The point is, Joe left you something to work with. And I’ll make sure you get to keep most of it.”
Allie thought for a moment. “Do you think I should pay Maggie back her fifty thousand?”
“I’m not going there. Talk to Sean.”
She nodded.
“Allie, there was something else.” Alex’s voice dropped, and he pulled an envelope out of his pocket. “This was mixed in with the money.”
He slid a battered envelope across the table. It had her name on it in Joe’s handwriting.
Allie froze, staring at it.
“It hasn’t been opened,” he said.
“It’s from Joe.”
“I figured.”
Her hand was trembling when she reached for it. All these months. Every harsh word she’d said to her friends about him, every resentment she’d held, it all rushed into her mind. The anger was there, but so was the confusion.
What was there left to say that he hadn’t already yelled at her over the years?
Alex said, “You don’t have to read it right now, but I wanted to give it to you. Want me to throw it away?”
“No.” She hesitated. Maybe. “It’s from Joe.”
“I know.”
The last words he would leave her with. Would they be sweet? Bitter? Angry or sorry? She didn’t know. She had never known.
“Allie?”
She cleared her throat and tapped a finger on the envelope. “You know, if Ollie gave me a letter, I’d never worry about opening it. He’d never be hurtful. Not on purpose. With Joe? You just never know.”
“Okay,” he said softly. “So wait. Wait until life has settled down. Or don’t open it at all.”
“No, I have to.”
“Why?”
She smiled sadly. “Because of fifteen years and four kids. This—whatever it is—is the last thing he’s gonna give me. Good or bad, I’ll handle it, Alex.”
“You always do.”
ALLIE wore a sweater when she walked to the park. Fall weather was finally starting to break the heat, and the change was more than welcome. She saw Jim following her from a distance, knew Ollie had assigned him to watch her when she went out, but she tried to ignore him. She sat on the benches across from Willow’s mural, Joe’s letter burning in one pocket and a handful of Kleenex in the other.
Trying to calm her nerves, she pulled out the letter and opened it, sliding the single sheet of lined paper from the envelope. With a deep breath, she braced herself.
Dear Allie,
If you’re reading this, I’m probably dead. I’m sorry. Just another mess for you to deal with, right?
I left you too many messes.
I’m trying to do the right thing, but I’ve always been pretty stupid about knowing what the right thing was. I was a shit husband. A shit dad. I guess this money is my one way of paying you back for all the stuff you had to put up with.
I’m sorry, honey. I tried, but not hard enough. This is my fault. I know you tried your best. And you’re such a good mom. I’m sorry that I took it out on you. I was the one who wasn’t good enough, not you.
I didn’t deserve you. I grabbed on to something I wanted and didn’t care that I was dragging you down with me. I knew it. Everyone did. The fact that I resented how good you were is on me, not you. You were a way better wife than I deserved.
The only good thing I ever accomplished was our kids, and I know that’s mostly you anyway. Tell Kevin I’m sorry about his Bowie knife. I’m going to try to get it back to him, I promise. I see so much of myself in Mark that it scares me sometimes. But I know you’ll do a better job than my parents did, so he’ll be fine. I’m sorry I was mean to Chris. He never deserved that. Tell him I miss reading him bedtime stories in funny voices. And the baby. God, Allie, I can still feel how small she was. She’s getting so big already, and I’m going to miss it.
Allie saw old tearstains marking the page. She pulled the Kleenex from her pocket to wipe her own away.
I’m going to miss everything. Every funny story. Every silly joke. Every football game. Their graduations. Their weddings.
I hate myself so much.
This is all I can give them. I had to do something. I knew it wasn’t a good idea, but I had to do something.
I love them. I love you. I know it’s not enough.
It wasn’t all bad, was it? We had some good times, right? Can you remind the kids of that sometimes? They probably hate me. I know you do. I deserve it.
You should be with Ollie. He’s loved you for years. I know nothing ever happened between you guys, but he loves you and the kids. Just let him help, because you can be stubborn as hell. I guess you had to be, being married to me. But I can’t remember the last time I heard you laugh. And you have such a great laugh. Maybe he can make you laugh again.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.
I think this is the longest letter I’ve ever written. I don’t know what else to say, but I don’t want to stop writing.
Please remember when I made you laugh.
Please tell the kids how much I love them. How proud I am. How amazing they are.
Please remember our first kiss. Because it was perfect.
I didn’t know how to love you right, but I loved you.
I always will.
Joe
She could barely see the last words he wrote.
Allie crumpled the letter to her chest and cried. For everything that was. For what might have been. For everything Joe would miss and for the good things he’d never seen about himself.
She remembered the hours he’d spent walking Kevin up and down the hallway when he wouldn’t sleep in his crib. The way he’d laughed hysterically the first time Mark had peed on him when he changed his diaper. The way he’d tickle Chris until neither one of them could breathe. His insistence in dressing Loralie in the frilliest dresses they could find, so delighted to have a little girl after three rowdy boys.
She didn’t know how long she cried, but the sun had started to go down when she felt Ollie sit down next to her. He didn’t say a word, just put his arms around her and scooted her onto his lap, surrounding her with his presence. Kissing the top of her head and rocking her back and forth as he wiped her tears with the edge of his flannel shirt.
“Jim called me,” he said after her tears were spent.
“There was a letter from Joe. With the money.”
He paused. “Should I have left you alone?”
“Never.”
“Okay.”
Allie took a deep breath and rested her cheek against his chest. They were silent for a long time, but it felt good. It felt right to be there with him, mourning the past so she could move into their future.
“We never did a memorial for him. Nothing. I was so shocked… They gave me his ashes, but they’re at my dad’s.”
“We’ll plan something.”
“The kids probably needed that, but I didn’t even think about it. I’m a bad mom.”
She felt his chest shaking with laughter.
“Stop,” she said throwing a wadded-up Kleenex at his chest.
“You’re not a bad mom.” He tugged on her ponytail until she looked up at him. “You’re an amazing mom, and they love you. So do I.”
“Joe mention
ed that.”
Ollie frowned, so she held out the letter to let him read it. She didn’t mind. She’d be feeling sore from it for a while, so he should probably know why. He read it silently and then folded it up, put it back in the envelope, and sighed.
“You’ll remind the kids about the good stuff,” he said softly, hugging her tighter. “When you’re ready. When they need to hear it. You’ll remember.”
She nodded.
“You ready to go home? Eli and Paul are hanging with the kids.”
“Can we keep your cousins?” she asked. “When we’re no longer in mortal danger? They’re great babysitters, and they have driver’s licenses.”
“They love your cooking. You probably won’t be able to get rid of them until they leave for college.”
They held hands in the car, and Ollie wasn’t able to make her laugh, but he did make her smile.
The laughter could come later.
SHE skipped her shift the night she received Joe’s letter, but she couldn’t skip two, even if Ollie gave a token protest. She could spot a token protest from a mile away; she knew he needed her there. It was a Thursday, and there was a band coming in from San Diego. The Cave would be slammed.
Allie left Elijah and Kevin with instructions while Ollie briefed the bears and the wolves outside.
“Are you sure we should both be going?” he asked as he climbed into the truck. “It’s not that I don’t trust everyone, but—”
“Ted’s coming over later,” she said. “She’ll be in the house with the kids, just in case.”
Ollie said nothing.
“I know,” she added, “but I’m trying not to be paranoid. Careful, but not paranoid.”
“I want to go hunting,” he growled. “You shouldn’t have to live like this.”
“Do we even know where to start looking?”
He paused. “Not really. Alex is working on it.”
“And when he finds something, you’ll know. Until then…” She slid his hand in hers. “…we have great people.”