Just a Wish Away (16 page)

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Authors: Barbara Freethy

BOOK: Just a Wish Away
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"Even if her father is implicated?"

"You just said Rob didn't know Shayla."

"I said I didn't interview him." He shook his head. "Maybe it was a mistake getting you involved. You're complicating things unnecessarily."

"I'm just trying to help."

"If you want to help, then stop trying to create a mystery where there isn't one and concentrate on what's happening now. Alexa won't thank you for trying to put her father in the middle of an affair."

"I'm not looking for thanks, just the truth."

"You are covering a lot of bases, I'll say that for you. Do you have any other questions?"

"That's it for now. Thanks, Chief."

As Edwin headed into his house, Braden returned to his car. The chief had been fairly forthcoming until he'd brought up Rob Parker. It was clear that Edwin was fond of Phoebe and very loyal to her. He wasn't going to provide any information that might hurt the Parker family.

Had Edwin Hayes always felt that way? Had he deliberately overlooked a connection between Rob and Shayla just in case there was some tie?

Or was he completely on the wrong track as Edwin had suggested?

Rolling his neck around on his shoulders, Braden considered his options. He doubted the police files would give him more information than the chief had, and it could take days to even find the case notes. How she died wasn't as important as finding out who was in her life at the time of her death. He needed to find out more about the house rental, and he knew just the person to talk to.

 

* * *

When Alexa got to the antique store, she found the door open, and her father inside. He was going through one of the boxes on the counter.

"You beat me here," she said, a little surprised. "How did you get in?"

"Evie opened the door for me."

"Oh, I didn't realize she was coming here today."

"There's a shitload of stuff in these boxes," he said.

"And there's a system for organizing," she replied, noting the haphazard collection growing rapidly on the counter.

"Well, I figured I'd just unpack the boxes first, and then it would be easier to see what's here." He took out an old carved box of dominoes. "Most of this looks like crap to me."

"Don't say that in front of Aunt Phoebe," she said.

"I guess it's good she has a store. Otherwise, she'd probably have all this in her house. She's always been a hoarder." He tossed the dominoes back in the box and rifled through a few more items.

"Dad what are you doing here?" Nothing about this moment was adding up. Her father didn't like antiques. He wasn't a big fan of Sand Harbor. And he never had time for anything but his job as a stockbroker. He was always making deals and rarely far from his phone or email.

"I'm helping," he said, glancing back at her. "I told you I would."

"It seems out of character."

"You've always told me I should spend more time with you. This seems like a good opportunity."

"What about your wife, your little kids? Don't you always tell me that they need you more?"

"I can't win with you," he grumbled.

"You never tried to win with me. When you ended your marriage, you ended your relationship with me, too. You divorced me just like you did, Mom."

He looked surprised that she'd spoken so bluntly. She was a little surprised, too. But she wasn't going to back down. She rarely had the opportunity to speak her mind with her dad, so she might as well use the opportunity to be direct.

"I'm sorry that you felt that way," he said. "It was never my intention to hurt you, Alexa. I wanted the divorce to be amicable, but your mother was so angry with me. I couldn't talk to her for five seconds without her screaming or crying. I just couldn't take it anymore."

"Why didn't you ask for joint custody?"

"Your mom needed you."

"And you didn't," she said flatly.

"It wasn't like that. And you can't pretend you wanted to be with me either. Your mother poisoned your mind. Even when I called, you didn't want to speak to me."

"You rarely called. Don't act like there were dozens of calls that I turned down. The phone only rang on my birthday and occasionally on Christmas, and after a while, not even then."

A grim expression entered his eyes. "I can't go back and change things, Alexa, even if I wanted to."

"It doesn't sound like you
do
want to."

"Some things I would definitely do differently, and that includes spending more time with you," he said. "But I'm not perfect. I make mistakes. Everyone does. All we can do is try to learn from them and move on." He turned back to the box, pulling out a tarnished silver candleholder. "This should probably just go in the trash."

"It can be cleaned up," she said. That was the problem with her father. He was always more interested in throwing things away than trying to fix them.

"If you say so," he muttered, setting it aside.

"Why did you and Mom split up?" she asked abruptly.

He sighed. "Too many reasons to count."

"Was one of those reasons that you were having an affair?"

He jerked at the question, whirling around in surprise. "Why would you ask me that?"

"Because I want to know. It's something I've thought about for a long time. I'm an adult now. I just want an honest answer."

"Did your mother tell you I cheated?"

"I'm asking you, Dad."

He stared back at her for a long moment. "What happened in my marriage is not your business. You're my daughter, Alexa. Some things are private."

She found his reply astonishing. "Some things are private?" she echoed. "Do you have any idea how loud your arguments were? I used to put in my swimming earplugs so I wouldn't have to hear you talk about personal things. I find it odd that you're suddenly so worried about me hearing anything now."

"What's the point? I don't want to drag the past between us yet again. Can't we start from now? You've reconnected with your aunt and your cousin. Let's not go back to all the ugliness. Let's move forward."

"You have to answer my question," she said, ignoring his plea to just move on. "Did you cheat on Mom with an actress named Shayla Cummings?"

He drew in a quick breath. "What do you know about Shayla?"

The way he said her name told Alexa that her father did indeed know the actress. Her stomach grew queasy. Was Braden right? Was she going to hurt herself even more with her endless questions? It was too late to turn back.

"I know she used to rent the Wellbourne's house," she replied. "I know she was fighting with someone a few weeks before she died."

"Where are you going with this?"

"That depends on your answer."

"I don't understand why you're bringing this up now."

"Someone broke into the shop right after these boxes were delivered."

"So?"

"So, there's a mysterious death that could be connected to the robbery."

"I can't imagine how you're putting the two events together. And why would you put me with Shayla?"

She debated for a moment, then said, "I saw a photograph from what appeared to be a birthday party for Shayla Cummings. There was a gold lighter next to the cake. It looked like the one Uncle Stan gave to you."

His jaw dropped. "Are you out of your mind, Alexa? Do you hate me that much that you'd try to make up some story about me and Shayla?"

"It sounds like you knew her."

"You're crazy. This is ridiculous, absolute and utter nonsense."

His tone grew angrier with each word. Alexa's stomach ache increased, the fury in her father's voice reminding her of all those fights she'd overheard when she was a little girl, when she used to pull the covers over her head so she wouldn't have to listen to him yell or hear her mother crying.

As much as she wanted to duck under the covers right now, she couldn't do that. She needed to stand up to him. "I'm not accusing you of anything. I'm just asking questions, and you're getting defensive. It makes me think you have something to hide."

"I don't recognize you any more," he said with a disgusted shake of his head.

"I wish I didn't recognize you," she returned, feeling overwhelmingly sad. "You always yelled so you wouldn't have to lie. I realize that now. All those fights you and Mom had. You never answered her. You just yelled at her for asking the questions. But I'm not her. I'm not afraid you're going to leave me, because you already did."

His face paled. "I had no idea you hated me so much."

"I wish I did hate you. That would make it easier. But instead I've spent the last fifteen years wishing you'd love me the way you did when I was a little girl. We used to go to Nini's on Sundays for breakfast. I felt so special then." Moisture filled her eyes, and she was angry with herself for still feeling the pain, but she couldn't deny it. "It was our time together. I didn't know that the last time we had pancakes there would be the last time I would
ever
have breakfast with you. I loved you then, and God help me, I still love you now. But you hurt me. And I really hope you don't do the same thing to your other children, because it feels awful." She let out a breath, feeling strangely lighter having said so many of the things she'd always wanted to say.

"I'm sorry, Alexa. I really am."

"I hope you are," she said. "I hope you change."

He stared back at her. "Maybe I should go."

"That's usually what you do." She was disappointed that he wasn't even going to try to convince her she was wrong. But then how could he? She wasn't wrong about anything, and he knew it.

"Now you sound like your mother," he told her.

"Did you ever love her?" she asked.

"More than I can say," he said with a heavy sigh.

"Really? Then what happened?"

"We weren't right for each other. We wanted different things. I couldn't make her happy. She couldn't make me happy. I know you got caught in the crossfire, Alexa. I didn't handle things as well as I should have. I realize that now."

At least he'd admitted that much.

He stared at her for a long moment. "I knew Shayla Cummings. I was at the Wellbourne house when she celebrated a birthday. It might have been my lighter you saw. But she was just a friend."

"That's it?" she asked.

"I don't want to talk about this with you. You're my daughter. It's not right."

"She was a beautiful young woman and a lot of men wanted her. It's hard to believe you didn't."

"Even if I did, Shayla had her eyes on someone else."

"Who?"

"She was cagey about it. I thought it was Jack Wellbourne, but then Daniel Stone was hanging around, so it could have been him. She didn't want to tell me. She said it made her sad to talk about it."

"Do you think Shayla's death was an accident?"

He didn't answer for a long moment. "I don't honestly know. She used to swim in the early mornings, because she thought she'd gained some weight and she didn't want the paparazzi to catch her in a bikini and point out that not only was she a flop as an actress, she was also getting fat."

"She wasn't wearing a swimsuit when she was found."

"Well, I don't know about that. Maybe she had on a cover-up. Like I said, she was worried about her weight gain."

Alexa wondered about that. In the newspaper photos she'd seen of Shayla, she'd been quite thin, but then models and actresses had a different standard for skinny.

"Shayla had a lot of problems in her life," her father added. "It's possible that depression got the best of her."

"Now you're saying it was suicide?"

"I'm saying I don't know."

"Did you ever talk to the police about her death?"

"No, we were back in Seattle when she died. And your mother and I were in the midst of the divorce. I barely knew what was going on here."

"I'm surprised no one called you. Did no one know of your friendship with Shayla?"

"I wasn't broadcasting it," he said, shifting his feet somewhat awkwardly.

"What about Aunt Phoebe?"

"God, no! My sister is a big talker. I would never tell her anything. And there was nothing to tell. But I can see the suspicion in your eyes now, and I figured that's the same look I'd get from anyone else. Look, I don't believe there's any connection between Shayla's death and the delivery of these boxes. You always had a big imagination. I guess you didn't grow out of it." He paused. "I'll leave you to do the inventory." He moved toward the front door, then turned back and said. "Would you like to have breakfast with me tomorrow before I leave?"

She was shocked at the unexpected question and also surprised that she didn't immediately say yes. Some self-protective mechanism inside her head was making her question if she really wanted to go back to Nini's with her dad. She'd been reliving a lot of her past since she'd returned to Sand Harbor; did she want to revisit that old memory?

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