Harkham's Choice (Harkham's Series Book 2) (17 page)

He turned and smiled.

“I’ve got her,” he said, beaming.

“Your mom?” she asked, pushing herself up to standing with some effort.

The stitches were probably pulling. He helped her up, hoping to relieve the pressure on her side.

“Thanks,” she said, leaning in and giving him a kiss. “So, tell me where she is.”

“I’m not really certain she’s there, but I found her brother. His name’s Peter Richards. No phone number. I’ve looked and looked, but I’ve got an address. I have a good feeling she’s there.”

She hugged him. “I’m sure she is. Why don’t you write him a letter?”

“Will you help me? I don’t want it to sound childish.”

She smiled and patted his chest. “You’re the brilliant one, not me. But, yeah, I’ll help if you want. Let’s do it tonight after dinner.”

“We’ve gotta get our laundry done.”

“Hey, I’ve been saying that for two days now. You’re the one that keeps putting it off.” She smacked his tush.

He smirked. It was always a treat when she did that. “I know, but I was looking for
her
.”

She grabbed the wrapping paper, tape, scissors and Sharpie, then went to put them away. “Hopefully the search is over,” she said as he trailed behind her.

“Me too.” He pushed his bangs out of his eyes.

“Hey, I’m home!” his dad said.

“Dad! Great news!” Adam yelled, loping after him and then shared the same information he gave to Mari.

His dad’s lips formed an O. “Wow, I’m . . . I thought so . . . I put a trace on your cell phone. Sammie wasn’t using it, so it was doing me no good. But this morning I found out she used it last night, and she’s in Paris. I contacted the police we’ve been dealing with about this whole thing. They’re gonna look into it as well.”

His father looked exhausted. He’d been dealing with a ton of stuff since Sam disappeared. He had to report her missing with the police, at school, and file reports on Mari’s attack. His eyes were always red and sagging now.

Adam’s brows pinched together into a V. “So, do you think Mom’s there? Should we go there, too? We need to find her. What if Sam—”

His dad’s hand landed on Adam’s shoulder and squeezed. “Slow down. I doubt she’s gonna try to harm your mother. And Sarah made it quite clear she was done with this family. We stay here.”

“Can I send a note to Uncle Peter?” Adam asked, his voice breaking.

“Sure. You can ask if she’s there, and maybe we should go ahead and print up the wedding invitations Mari made on the computer. We can send that along too, just in case.”

Adam nodded, grinning. His heart flooded with warmth. Once Mari came back home with him after his restaurant freak-out, she was fully committed to him, and she proved it by designing their wedding invitations almost right away.

His dad hugged him, patted him on the back a few times and said, “I’m proud of you for persevering and finding out more than I ever did.”

“Did you really try, Dad? Honestly?”

“Not as hard as I could’ve. I wasn’t really sure if I wanted to know. After the divorce was final . . . I don’t know.” His dad paused, and his expression went blank. “It was difficult. What if she’d already found somebody else and had remarried?” His eyes clouded with pain and tears a split second after he said the final word.

But . . . his father never cried, ever. He was a big man and was tough. Nothing bothered him—not really.

“I love you, Dad. And I love her too—but I’ll always be near you, not her. You stayed. You never quit on me.”

His dad blinked, looking a little dazed. “Thank you, Son. It’s good to hear you don’t resent me for some of the tough choices I had to make for you. I love you, too. And I can’t tell you how happy I am that you and Mari seem to be doing well together and at school. You make me proud.”

“I do?” Adam’s voice rose quite a bit.

“Yes. And I know I should tell you that more.” His dad stood still for a moment, gave one nod and left to his office.

“Wow . . .” Adam whispered to himself.

He had a great family. If only Sam could be okay again.

* * *

“Adam, I’m fine,” Mari said on the last day of school before winter break started.

“You’re still healing,” he replied, his arm tight around her, his hand on her hip. “You do too much. Stop it.”

“It’s been over a week since I had the stitches put in.” She shoved him playfully away. The contact broke. “I think you just want an excuse at school to be all over me.”

“I don’t need an excuse,” he said, grabbing her ring finger and spinning the band around.

“You’re too damn cute, you know that?” She smirked.

He looked down at her and pretended to make a serious face. “Yes,” he said, trying to be a baritone and failing.

“So dopey, too.” She chuckled.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and answered right away. “Victor?”

“Hey . . . I’ve got some bad news for you,” Vic responded.

“What? Lemme guess . . . You’ve decided to follow my advice and leave that arm-pit town? Phoenix’s not ready for y—”

“Mari, your dad’s . . . Well . . .” Vic sighed. “He’s dead.”

Her face froze, and her heart followed right after. “He died?”

Adam was practically on top of her, bending down to listen as closely to her phone as he could.

“I’m so sorry, hon. As far as we can tell, he fell down the stairs while carrying some boxes up there and broke his neck,” Vic said, his voice shaky. She could hear him crying.

“When?” she asked, her voice breathy and barely audible.

“Two days ago . . . We think.”

“And I’m just now hearing this?” She gripped the phone so tight it hurt her fingers.

“Nobody knew. He never leaves anymore. The mailman was the one that noticed he wasn’t emptying out the mailbox. He peeked inside a window and saw him on the ground,” Vic explained, using a soothing tone. “I called you as soon as I found out.”

Tears fell down her cheeks. “O-kay, I . . . I . . . What am I supposed to do?”

“Talk to your mom. Funeral plans need to be ma—”

“I’d rather strike a match and cremate him along with all his stuff nobody wants,” Mari said, cutting him off.

“Mari, c’mon. Call your mom,” Victor pleaded. “There are people here that would like to say goodbye.”

“I’ll figure something out. Don’t worry about it,” she said, staring at Adam’s sweet, sympathetic look. She kissed him. It was the only thing she knew would hold her together. Other than his arms completely enfolded around her.

“Call me back when you do,” Vic said. “Oh, and, Mari?”

“What?” she said a little curt.

“He was your dad, and he loved you. Don’t do anything rash just because you parted on bad terms.”

“Yeah. Real sage advice by the person that had to take my dad’s loaded weapon out of my face,” Mari said, making a grunting, scraping sound at the back of her throat as soon as she was done speaking.

Adam gripped her arm, and his fingers cinched down.

Oh great. She was freaking Adam out.

“Gotta go. I’m at school. Talk to you later.” She hung up.

Adam whirled her straight into his arms.

“I’m fine,” she said, unsure of how she felt, what she thought, and how to handle all this.

A part of her knew she needed this hug more than anything, but the other part—the screechy, strong, independent, bullheaded part—told her she didn’t need anyone. Especially not now. She could handle this all on her own. Like she always did when something bad happened.

But then Adam kissed her ear and said, “It’s okay to be sad. I’ll let you be sad and hidden in my arms. It’s okay—my Mari. I’ve got you. The world won’t see. Only I’ll know, and I won’t tell a soul.” He rocked her a little.

“What if I don’t want to be sad?” She sniffed back the beginnings of tears.

“He was your father. That usually means a heavy heart when they pass.” He hummed deep in his belly, and she felt the vibration move right into her. “I’m sad. I knew him a little bit, but I’ll cry, too.”

That small act doubled how concrete and safe it felt to be here with him, tucked away.

God, he was so perfect.

“You sure he’s worth the tears? He was kind of mean the last time you saw him . . .” She paused and sealed her lips shut, fighting off the tears once more.

“It’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with a heart that feels. Even when it feels too much and too icky.” He pressed his lips to her temple. “You know he—”

“Don’t,” she said. “Just don’t. I don’t even care how he treated me at this point. I can’t stand to even think about the last time I was there and the mean things I said to him.” She kicked her foot behind her and crossed that ankle behind the other, keeping her eyes downcast at the ground. “
That’s
what bothers me. Nothing else. I don’t care about any other damned fucking thing in this whole ordeal.”

“No, you don’t. Stop it now.” He huffed. “You don’t get to be mean to yourself about this and say you’re a bad person.” He hooked his index finger under her chin and lifted her gaze to him. “It’s not your fault he made bad choices. And you told me all the things you said to him—they were all helpful, not hurtful.”

“Yeah, right.” She snorted and shook her head a little bit.

Once again, all she wanted was to go light up in the parking lot.

Why had she quit smoking? Nervous, electric energy radiated through her chest and out to her limbs, making her kind of jerky.

Oh, yeah, couldn’t really afford it—wanted to be good for Adam and get on his dad’s good side. She still really,
really
wanted one, more than anything right now.

“God! We have Christmas in less than a week! And now I’ve gotta go and deal with a funeral.” Her neck whipped back, and she moaned as she stared at the ceiling. “I . . . I was actually looking forward to this stupid holiday for the first time in years because I was going to be spending it with you and your family. Now I’ll be gone.”

“We’ll celebrate early.” He brushed her hair over her shoulder and ran his hand down her back. “And I’ll come with you. I like flying with you. You get real snuggly and kissy. It’s nice.” She could feel him smiling.

Her head fell back into place and kind of bounced at the bottom when she hit a level gaze.

“Kissy? That’s a new one. I don’t think I’ve ever been called that before.” She chuckled silently, her abs moving.

She uncrossed her ankles, leaned forward and rested her forehead on his chest. “This is a mess. Seriously—what am I going to do? I can’t afford a funeral, and I know my mom sure as hell can’t.”

“Maybe your dad prepared ahead for this type of thing and has some money set aside?” he offered, his voice going up at the end, letting on he really doubted what he was saying.

Instead of calling her mom right away, she finished out the day at school, taking the time to think this through.

Her dad, Willem Cole, had a bad habit of collecting everything and anything. He was the worst hoarder she’d ever seen, claiming everything he owned was of inestimable value. His house was an all-out disaster, and the idea of emptying it was beyond daunting. If it weren’t for the fact there were some scrapbooks, mementos of when their family had been together, she really would have the place either bulldozed or burned to the foundation.

But who knew where any of those valuable memory items might be? They were lost in mounds of unimportant knickknacks and stuff nobody needed or wanted.

When the day that dragged on forever finally ended, she made some decisions.

Adam met her at his car and let her in, then pulled out of the parking lot like he was in a hurry to take her away from here.

“Adam, I want to talk to my mom in person. Can you drop me off at her place, and I’ll call you when I’m done and need a ride back home?”

“I’ll go with you since I’m going back to Alta with you. I need to know the plan,” he said.

“Okay, but be prepared for her to act like she can’t stand me. I’m sure she’ll say some pretty awful stuff.” A lump formed in her throat.

He smiled and caressed her hand with his free one. “But it won’t matter—because this time I know everything about your past, so I’ll know when she’s lying, and I’ll know how to defend you.” His eyes were bright.

He changed the course of the car so they were heading to her old house, instead of her new one with him.

“You don’t have to do that,” she said. The idea of him battling it out with her mom was nauseating.

“I can handle it.” He pushed his chest out.

“I know you can. But she’s not worth it. You can’t reason with her. She won’t listen.” She kissed the corner of his mouth and then wiped it away with the pad of her thumb. After she had it dry, she kept rubbing her finger over that spot because that lip twitched into a lopsided smile. “Although, if you smile at her like that—I think she’ll be too dazed to respond. Do you have any idea how absolutely gorgeous you are? With your amazing personality on top of it—she’ll be defenseless.”