Take Me Home for Christmas (3 page)

“More than he’ll ever be able to come up with.”

“So...who’s been hurt? Which investors?”

“Anyone who gave him money for the SLD Fund.”

“And the SLD Fund is...”

“The money that was supposed to be invested in a diverse array of assets and publicly traded equities.”

Wait. The “publicly traded equities” reference jogged her memory. She’d heard Skip talking about the SLD Fund with various people around town. That was the big moneymaking opportunity he’d been pushing for the past year. “You’re saying these investors have lost their money? There’s no way to get it back?”

“Now you’re catching on,” Kelly retorted. “I’m guessing he wouldn’t have taken it if he didn’t need it, but that doesn’t make this right. He’s been struggling to cover our overhead here for months. I thought he’d get the finances straightened out when he closed the next deal. That’s what he told me. He said he had a big one coming down the pike. But now...I’m wondering if he’s been saying that just to buy time, so I’d stick around until the end and help him keep up appearances.”

“You’re making it sound like...like DeBussi Investments is defunct. Broke!”

“It
should
sound that way. Because unless he’s sitting on a secret stash somewhere, it’s true.”

“That can’t be possible.” Skip always had money. Although he’d entered the business world right out of high school and hadn’t attended a day of college, he’d been independently wealthy by the time she married him, when they were twenty-two. And he’d grown richer as the years passed. Not long ago,
California Business,
a respected magazine, had touted him the best investment consultant in the state.

“But if there’s no money in DeBussi Investments, what about our
personal
finances?” she asked. “Maybe
I
can pay some of it back.” At least to the people she knew.

“I have no idea how things stand on the personal side,” Kelly said.

That gave Sophia
some
hope, but she found out soon enough that she wouldn’t be able to right Skip’s wrongs. When she tried to buy fuel for the
Legacy
the next morning, she learned that the FBI had frozen
all
of their bank and credit accounts.

3

S
ophia squinted against the bright afternoon sun. She’d never been fond of her in-laws, especially Skip’s mother. Generally, they treated her with a sort of mild neglect, and she pretended not to notice, but occasionally she detected real disdain. She could only assume that her husband had complained about her to them the way he did to Lexi. She’d never said or done anything that should put her out of favor—but there
was
her drinking problem. Their disapproval and their coolness toward her made it difficult to turn to them, even in her hour of need. She’d called them today because they deserved to know that their son was missing. He was fairly close to them, as close as he was to anybody, and she needed money to fly Alexa and her home. It wasn’t as if she could go to
her
parents for help. It’d been twelve years since her father had died of prostate cancer, fourteen since her mother had been hospitalized for good.

“What are you talking about?” Sharon snapped. “This can’t be true.”

Sophia had just told her that Skip hadn’t been on the boat when she woke up yesterday and she hadn’t seen him since. She’d decided not to mention the FBI. She figured hearing that their son had disappeared and was likely dead would be hard enough; they could deal with the rest once she got home and had more information. Despite the harsh reality of her current financial situation, or perhaps because of it, Sophia kept hoping that there was a logical explanation—other than what the facts seemed to suggest.

“Sharon, it’s true,” she said. “I have no idea where he could be. I contacted the Brazilian police, of course, and they’ve been searching ever since. But it’s been thirty-two hours and there’s no sign of him.”

“Have you called his cell?”

“Over and over.”

“He must’ve had business in Rio,” his mother said in her usual brusque manner. She always acted as if she had all the answers. “You know how he is. He works nonstop.”

“Are you saying he
swam
to his appointment? Because that’s the only way he could’ve gotten there—unless we all missed the fact that a boat came alongside us in the night.”

Silence met this response. Sharon had heard the sarcasm, but at this particular moment Sophia couldn’t tolerate her mother-in-law’s supercilious attitude. She was having trouble holding herself together. Although she’d made it through the entire night without a drop of alcohol, she hadn’t slept. Her eyes felt like sandpaper, her head and her stomach ached, and she had some terrible truths to face—truths that would change her whole life. If Skip didn’t come back, if he didn’t straighten out the mess he’d made, she’d have no way to survive, let alone take care of their daughter.

She stared at her naked ring finger. On their tenth anniversary, Skip had replaced her wedding ring with a five-carat diamond that was worth over two hundred thousand dollars. But when she entered rehab, he’d taken it back, saying he wanted to have it appraised for insurance purposes....

In light of what she’d been told during the past two days, she suspected it hadn’t gone to an appraiser.

“I’m sorry.” She hid her hand from view, so she wouldn’t have to be reminded of the ring, and struggled to gain control of her emotions. “I—I’m upset, as you can imagine. Like I said, I have no idea what happened, why Skip isn’t here or where he might be. I hope he’s okay, that everything will end well. But I desperately want to come home. I
have
to come home. I can wait for him there.”

“It’s been a day—
one
day. Surely you wouldn’t give up hope and leave your husband so quickly.”

Flinching, she grappled for an explanation that wouldn’t include admitting that the FBI had accused Skip of being a criminal. She knew what that would do to his parents. They thought he walked on water. They’d always preferred him to his brother, who worked as a plumber and had five kids with four different women. “I
can’t
stay here. There’s been a...a mix-up with our accounts, and I’m not able to cover food and supplies or pay the crew.”

“Good Lord, now you’re talking about
money?
What’s that got to do with finding Skip before it’s too late?”

“If you could just wire enough for me to get Alexa home... Then I’ll explain everything, or as much as I know, anyway.”

There was talking on the other end.

“Sophia?” The phone had switched hands. This was Dale, Skip’s father.

She gripped her cell tighter. “Yes?”

“What the hell’s going on?”

As a rule, men treated her better than women. That was why she typically preferred them. But her father-in-law was a notable exception. “It...it’s unbelievable,” she said and told him what she’d told Sharon.

“My son would
never
leave his family high and dry,” he said when she’d finished. “It must be foul play, a—a kidnapping.”

“There’s been no ransom note.”

“Then something else happened. He wouldn’t abandon you and Alexa on that damn boat if he’d had a choice.”

A tear dripped down her cheek because she was pretty sure Skip had done exactly that, and she felt terrible for their daughter. How could he promise Alexa a wonderful two weeks at sea as a family—and then disappear?

“You—you’re probably right,” she said but only to get through this phone call without an argument. The more she considered the timing of Skip’s disappearance, the more she believed he’d gone on the run. He
had
to have known the FBI was closing in on him. Or maybe some of his investors had been pressing him for the fabulous return he’d promised, and he’d run out of excuses.

“Did he have problems with the crew?” his father asked.

Was he talking murder? “No, none. The crew is great. No one would hurt him.”

“Someone must’ve done
something,
by God! And now you want to leave, to come home without him? When he’s probably in trouble—maybe even stranded in the ocean? He could need your help!”

The lump in Sophia’s throat made speaking an effort. “I told you, I don’t have the money to stay. I—I can’t even provide the necessities for Lex. Think of your granddaughter, please. I need to get her home.”

“
Why
don’t you have money? This whole thing stinks, Sophia. What is it? What aren’t you telling us?”

She dropped her head, resting it in her free hand. She realized that this conversation couldn’t wait, after all. “The FBI has frozen our bank accounts, Dale.”

“Let go of the phone,” he told his wife. Then he spoke into the receiver again. “Did you say
FBI?
”

She sighed. “I’m afraid so.”

“Why would the FBI freeze your accounts? The FBI doesn’t do that unless...unless—”

“Unless they have reason,” she finished for him. “They claim Skip’s been defrauding his investors.”

“What?”

“It’s true. They’ve frozen all the money so they can return as much as possible. But Kelly tells me that’ll be a nominal amount, if any at all.”

“This is bullshit!” he exploded. “My boy would never cheat a soul. He doesn’t need to cheat. Everything he touches turns to gold. You’ve seen what he’s done, what he’s provided for you.”

Had he been breaking the law all along? Or just recently? “I hope he’s innocent, like you say. And I hope we can prove it.”

“You do? Really? Because you sound beaten.” His voice grated. “Don’t you have
any
confidence in him?”

“I only know what Kelly told me, Dale, and he said the FBI plans to bring Skip up on fraud charges for mishandling the SLD Fund.”

There was a brief silence. “No way. Not the SLD Fund. That fund’s making great money. I saw a report last month.”

A wave of unease swept through Sophia. “Why would
you
see a report?
You
didn’t invest in it...” Skip wouldn’t defraud his own parents, would he?

“I sure did,” his father said proudly. “I put my life savings into that fund. So did almost everyone else in Whiskey Creek. And when they see how fast my boy will double their money, they’re going to be damn glad they did.”

Sophia started laughing. And once she started, she couldn’t stop, not until she was crying instead.

“Sophia? Sophia, stop it!” Dale barked. “Are you
drunk?
”

That got her attention. “No,” she said. “I haven’t had a drop.”

“Then what’s wrong with you?”

Sniffing, she wiped her eyes. “Whether you want to believe it or not, your boy is gone,” she said. “And so is the money you and everyone else invested.”

4

T
wo days later, on Sunday, which was as soon as they could make the arrangements, Sharon and Dale met Sophia and Alexa at the airport. Her in-laws were drawn and pale, and Sophia knew she looked no better. She wheeled her luggage out to the car, while her daughter did the same, her hair smashed on one side from when she’d leaned against the wall of the plane, trying to get some sleep.

“Thank you for helping us get home,” Sophia said. “And for sending enough money for the crew to return with the
Legacy.
” She had no doubt the FBI would confiscate the yacht once it was safely docked. The agent who’d been dealing with Kelly, Special Agent Freeman, had contacted her when she was about to board the plane. She’d told him she couldn’t help find Skip. And he’d told her the government had seized everything of any value except the house. Since there was no equity in it, 910 Wonderland Drive wouldn’t be worth their time.

Thank God for small favors. At least she and Alexa would be able to stay in familiar surroundings until the bank kicked them out. How long that would be, Sophia couldn’t even guess. She had more pressing matters to worry about before she got to that. The way Agent Freeman had questioned her made Sophia believe he suspected
her
of being a party to Skip’s fraudulent activities—and when they’d hung up, he’d seemed far from convinced that she wasn’t. He kept asking her how much she knew about her husband’s business, implying that Skip couldn’t have done everything he’d done without her knowledge. Because California was a community property state, the law held her accountable for any debts he’d incurred, so her credit was going to be ruined, too.

The DeBussis hugged Alexa, then turned immediately to helping with the luggage.

“Of course we were going to make sure you got home. We would never strand our granddaughter,” Dale said tightly.

Sophia tried not to be hurt by the fact that they hadn’t greeted her quite as warmly. Maybe she hadn’t been the perfect wife. No one admired an alcoholic. But she
had
been part of the DeBussi family for thirteen years, since shortly after she’d found out she was pregnant with Lex. She felt she deserved a
little
kindness. “Since I love Alexa, too, I appreciate it,” she said.

Other than a few comments about the weather and the length of the trip, they drove the hundred and thirty miles to “The Heart of Gold Country” in silence. Sophia knew her in-laws didn’t want to discuss Skip’s situation in Lexi’s presence; neither did she. She hadn’t told her daughter that he was wanted by the police. She’d simply said there’d been a mix-up at work and perhaps he’d gone somewhere to take care of the problem.

“Do you think Alexa should come home with us?” Sharon asked when they reached the top of “DeBussi Hill” and pulled into the circular drive.

Judging by the look her daughter shot her, Alexa didn’t want to go. She was probably as eager to sleep in her own bed as Sophia was. Besides, Sophia didn’t want to be alone. All the sudden changes had left her reeling. “Not tonight.”

Sharon twisted around in her seat. “Why not?”

That her mother-in-law would challenge her answer made Sophia grit her teeth for a second. Sharon didn’t show her the proper respect because Skip had always discounted Sophia’s opinion. But she managed to respond in a normal voice. “The trip’s been hard on both of us. We’re worried about Skip and feel we should be here in case he calls.”

“Okay, but you won’t drink tonight, will you? With all the stress you’re under—” she narrowed her eyes “—I wouldn’t want you to resort to your old tricks.”

Tricks?
Sophia glanced at her daughter. She hated having Alexa hear that. “I haven’t had a drink since I went into New Beginnings.”

“Or so she says,” Dale muttered under his breath. “If that was true, maybe she’d have a clearer memory of...certain details.”

Like where their son had gone or what had happened to him. She understood that. But she didn’t dignify the remark with a response for fear he’d try to make her look worse. She didn’t want Alexa to blame her, to believe alcohol was the reason she had no idea when Skip had gotten up or where he might’ve gone. “Thanks again.”

When they drove away, Sophia stared after them. If Skip didn’t come back, she’d have to continue dealing with his parents on her own, and she could tell that wouldn’t be any easier than dealing with the FBI.

“You coming?” Alexa spoke as she climbed the steps to the elaborately carved front doors Skip had purchased abroad.

“Right behind you.” Normally, she would’ve stopped to admire the Halloween decorations she’d put up before they left. She loved the holidays, from Halloween to Christmas. But tonight none of that seemed important.

She bumped her suitcase up the steps because she was too tired to carry it, and let them in. The house smelled of grapefruit and mango from the expensive candles Sophia liked to burn.

“Home at last,” she breathed.

“If only Dad was home with us,” Lexi mumbled and, head bowed, started for her room.

“No kiss good-night?” Sophia called after her.

Dropping her suitcase onto the marble floor with a resounding bang, she came hurrying back. “I’m sorry, Momma. I’m just... It hurts. I’m afraid I’ll never see him again.”

“I know.” She held her daughter tight, wishing
she
loved Skip as much as Lexi did. At least now she wanted him back—for their daughter’s sake and because living with him, difficult as it was, would probably be easier than solving the problems he’d left behind. “Let’s get some sleep,” she said as she straightened.

After Alexa had settled in, Sophia went to bed telling herself that it would all get better in the morning. But the call that woke her in the middle of the night told her it was only going to get worse.

* * *

Ted Dixon almost didn’t attend Friday morning coffee with his friends. It was a ritual, something he looked forward to all week. As a novelist, he sat in front of his computer for hours every day, didn’t get out of the house very often. And he’d known most of the people he met at Black Gold since he was in grade school. He always enjoyed seeing them. But after the shocking news that had swept through town the past week, he could easily guess what the topic of conversation would be, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to participate. Everyone would be studying him, trying to ascertain his reaction—and although he’d had plenty of practice at pretending he wasn’t interested in anything to do with his old flame, he felt that some of his friends could see through him.

On the other hand, if he didn’t go, they’d likely figure out why. Not showing up might give away more than joining the group as if this Friday was no different from any other.

“Hey, you made it.” Callie Pendleton, a photographer by trade, was the first to greet him. She’d had a liver transplant a year and a half ago, but no one would’ve been able to tell. She looked as healthy and robust as any other woman. Levi, her husband, was in line to order, along with Riley Stinson, a building contractor who had a fourteen-year-old son but had never married.

“Why wouldn’t I make it?” he asked, pretending to be unaware of the added interest he was about to face.

“You haven’t heard?” This came from Noah Rackham, who was nursing a cappuccino while sitting next to Adelaide, his pregnant wife. Noah had recently retired from professional cycling, which had taken him to Europe for half of every year. But he still owned Crank It Up, the bike shop in town. To help her aging grandmother, Adelaide ran the diner, Just Like Mom’s—an institution in Whiskey Creek.

Ted hadn’t known Levi or Adelaide very well until they’d started coming to coffee. The same could be said for Brandon Lucero and his wife, Olivia. They were younger, had been behind them in school. Callie, Riley, Kyle, Eve and Noah were the people Ted had grown up with, as well as several others who normally came but weren’t here today.

“Heard what?” Ted strolled over to the table and slouched into his usual seat. “Don’t tell me Baxter’s not coming back for the Halloween party.” Baxter was one of their closest friends, someone who used to have coffee with them every week, but he’d moved to San Francisco a few months ago.

“This year the party’s at Cheyenne and Dylan’s, isn’t it?” Adelaide asked.

“Last I heard,” Callie said. “I don’t know why they’re not here today.” She glanced at the entrance as if she expected them to walk in any second.

“Chey went to visit her sister this morning,” Eve informed them. Eve and Chey both worked at the B and B owned by Eve’s parents, so they stayed in close touch. “But she and Dylan will be at the Halloween party and so will Baxter. I called him last night. He said he’s coming.”

“How does he like his new digs?” Ted asked.

Noah broke in before Eve could answer. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Don’t charge down that path. You know I wasn’t referring to Bax when I asked if you’d heard the news.”

Ted eyed the crowd at the register. He wasn’t a man with a lot of patience. He preferred to sit and talk until he saw an opening and wouldn’t have to wait, but today he should’ve gotten in line. That might have provided him with a buffer. Maybe they would have covered Sophia’s situation and gotten embroiled in some other gossip before he returned with his usual—a cup of Black Gold’s finest fresh-roasted coffee. “If you’re talking about Skip DeBussi, of course I heard.”

“That his body washed up on the shore of
Brazil?
” Noah asked.

“It’s in all the papers, isn’t it?” Ted said. “AOL even had something about it online.”

“And?” Noah prompted. “Don’t you have any reaction?”

“I’m sorry for his parents and his daughter, if that’s what you’re after.”

Riley came back from the counter with a giant muffin, a fruit-and-yogurt parfait and an apple. Apparently, he planned to eat it all himself; his son was in school so he wouldn’t be sharing it as he did during the summer. “You’re sorry for everyone but his wife?” he asked, quickly picking up on the conversation.

Ted tried not to picture Sophia’s face. He’d never seen a more beautiful woman. She turned heads, including his, wherever she went. He hated that she still had the power to affect him and often reminded himself that her beauty was only skin-deep. “I’m sure she’ll manage. She always seems to land on her feet.”

Callie frowned. “You’re so hard on her. I won’t argue that Sophia was a...a difficult personality in high school, but—”

“A difficult personality?”
he echoed. “She was the meanest girl Eureka High has ever seen. She stole other girls’ boyfriends, toyed with the guys she collected, manipulated anyone who’d let her and used her power and popularity to lord it over the less fortunate. You can feel bad for her all you want, but let’s not forget the facts.” He left out that she also had a slew of
good
qualities. That she’d been sexy and funny and determined and just mysterious enough to keep him guessing. At one time she was all he’d ever wanted. He expected someone to call him on that, but no one did.

“People grow up,” Riley said. “She seemed nice when she was coming to coffee.”

Because they hadn’t given her the chance to be anything else. Ted was glad she’d changed her mind about trying to be part of their group. He didn’t think she should have the right to hang out with them after behaving so badly, and he’d made sure she knew it. “Don’t let those big blue eyes fool you.”

Callie shot him a quelling look. “Ted, she just lost her husband. Can’t you have
some
sympathy?”

No. He couldn’t. He needed to keep up his defenses, because he knew where any softening would lead. He’d tried to rescue her once before. It’d been years since then, but he’d learned his lesson. “Like I said, I feel bad for her daughter and Skip’s parents. Losing a son or father would be hard, but finding out he cheated almost everyone in town and then died trying to fake his own death so he could start a new life somewhere else...” He’d never liked Skip, but he hadn’t expected him to do anything quite
that
bad.

“Skip died trying to fake his own death?” Levi sat down with some coffee and a yogurt he slid in front of Callie. “Last I knew, they were assuming it might’ve been an accident—that he fell off the boat and drowned.”

“It was no accident,” Ted responded. “No one ‘falls’ off a yacht with a waterproof bag containing a disposable, non-traceable cell phone, a change of clothes and a hundred thousand dollars in cash strapped to his back. What you saw must’ve been before news of the FBI probe broke. I doubt anyone would’ve been leaning toward ‘accident’ if they’d possessed that little detail. Maybe
suicide,
” he added.

Brandon poured a packet of sugar into his coffee. “So he meant to go overboard, was prepared for it. Why didn’t he survive?”

Ted shrugged. “No one knows. They’re speculating he had some sort of flotation device that he lost for whatever reason. Maybe he encountered a shark or some rocks or fell asleep and slipped out of it. Or he might have given it up, thinking he could move faster without it. Maybe he underestimated the distance to shore or his ability to fight the currents.”

Noah finished his cappuccino. “I could see him doing that. He’s always been over-confident.”

“What he’s done, to everyone, is terrible.” Olivia wiped the condensation from her orange juice. “Especially little Alexa. How will Sophia ever explain that he died trying to skate out on them?”

Ted shifted to one side so he could cross his ankles without getting in anyone’s way. “I’m just glad
I
didn’t invest, and I hope none of you guys did, either.”

He’d said it flippantly. He hadn’t really believed any of
his
friends would be victims, but when Kyle and Noah exchanged a glance, Ted sat up straight. “Tell me you didn’t.”

“He talked a good talk,” Noah said, his face turning red. “I mean, look at his house. Look at the cars he drives and all the trips he takes—or used to take. I thought he knew what the hell he was doing.”

“He did!” Ted said with a laugh. “He got you to invest, didn’t he?”

Kyle’s expression was just as chagrined as Noah’s but he came out fighting. “Don’t be so damn smug, Ted. The only reason you kept your distance was because you didn’t want to give Skip the pleasure of thinking he had anything you appreciated or admired.”