Nineteen.
Nick
Eric or Billy or whoeverthefuck is hauled into the foyer as Aunt Sara hands my mother a glass of water, rubbing her back. She started crying the moment she sat down and it is taking everything my father has to console her.
“W-We let a killer into this house, Bruce,” she cries. “With our babies!”
Natalie hugs her. “Shhh, Mom, it’s okay,” she says. “You didn’t know.”
My father shakes his head, his face red in anger. “I should’ve listened to you, son.” He grips my shoulder. “I’m sorry we didn’t.”
“Ma’am, you’re going to need to come with us,” an officer states, and I turn.
“Get your hands off me!” Darcy’s voice is so high I’m surprised we don’t hear dogs howling. The female officer has her by the arm. “I did nothing wrong,” she wails. “He fooled me, too. I’m the victim here.”
Another officer approaches with a file in hand and I stand. “My name is Detective Waters,” he announces. “I understand Mr. Shoemocker and Miss Laine have been—”
“ Laine ?” I ask. “She said her name was Darcy McCaine.”
Detective Waters makes a note on the paper attached to the front of the folder before removing a paper and handing it to me. “This was found in an email correspondence between Mr. Shoemocker and Miss Laine,” he tells me.
I stare at the paper.
It’s a copy of a scanned letter.
A letter addressed to my uncle dated thirty years ago.
My eyes fly over the page announcing the birth of Eric Steven Mitchell , my deceased uncle’s true biological son. The sender claims to be Monica Mitchell, mother to Eric Mitchell, who went on to marry her high school sweetheart and raise my uncle’s son.
What the hell? “Where did this come from?” I demand.
“I understand you dated Miss Laine at the time of Steven Davis’ passing.”
“We did. She helped arrange the funeral and…clean out my uncle’s cabin.” The moment the realization hits me my chest tightens. I can’t believe this. She exploited this whole thing based on a stolen letter. A letter I have never seen, and one I’m willing to bet my parents haven’t either.
I hand the letter to my father as he comes to stand beside me.
Detective Waters’ expression is grim. “I am sorry to say that it appears Miss Laine saw an opportunity amid your family’s grief. We’re working under the theory it was a backup plan in case the two of you didn’t work out. Gold-digger, I believe the kids call it.”
“Unbelievable,” I breathe, shocked as I process everything. Billy is a wanted criminal. Darcy set this whole thing up. And for what? Money? Gold-digger doesn’t even begin to describe the manipulation nor the situation. This is unreal. I had my theories, and a hunch or two as to what was going on, but this is so much worse than any of those mere assumptions.
I truly have a long-lost cousin. And he has no idea he has an entire family that was so taken by the prospect of gaining a piece of my uncle back, we took in a scam artist in his place.
“I-I-I—He’s lying!” Darcy whips to face my father. “I’ve been a part of this family for five years , Bruce. You can’t possibly believe I would ever do something so—so heinous.” She’s wailing at this point. Her face is tomato red as investigators carry her toward the front door. “Betty, please,” she howls, pleading with my mother who averts her teary gaze.
“Quit your fuckin’ crying, Darce,” Billy shouts from his place in the foyer. “They’ve heard enough of your bullshit. ”
“Shut up, you—stupid asshole!” Darcy explodes, sending a shockwave through the room as she tries to high-kick her foot into Eric/Billy’s face. “If you weren’t such a useless idiot, I’d be—”
“I think that’s enough,” my father booms, nodding toward the officers. “Take them away, if you will. I’d like to enjoy what’s left of the evening without these imposters in my home another second.”
Detective Waters relays information to my parents on where Billy and Darcy will be taken and that they’ll be in touch for their statements in a few days. Dad shakes his hand. “Thank you for coming, Detective,” he says. “I appreciate the urgency in this situation.”
“Of course, sir.” He nods. “Though, you should be thanking Mr. Bell. The man was determined. I can only imagine the number of favors he called in to handle this promptly for your family,” he says. “Have a Merry Christmas, sir. We’ll be in touch.”
My father accompanies him to the door as the officers leave and the excitement dies.
I run a hand down the side of my face, blowing out a long breath. Fuckin’ hell .
Rich walks over, appearing as shocked as the rest of us. “I guess you were right.”
I was. Yet, the victory leaves a sour taste in my mouth. “It was all Joy,” I say, gripping the back of my neck at the tightness forming there. Joy . My gaze sweeps the room. I don’t see her—or her dad .
I hurry to the front door, assuming they may be seeing the imposters out as well. When I reach the foyer, my father closes the door as I reach for it. “Is Joy—”
“They’re gone,” he says.
Shock catches me off guard. Gone? Gone where?
My brow furrows in disbelief and I spin on my heels to jog up the stairs, taking two at a time. My bedroom door is open and I check the closet first. Her suitcase is…nowhere in sight.
If she had listened to me and left the situation alone with not-Eric and Darcy…who knows what could’ve come of all this. She saved my family.
How could she leave?
Joy is…amazing. Beautiful, smart, funny. She’s all those things and more. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it until I’m six feet under: Joy Bell is perfect and— “She’s mine .” The feral declaration slips past my lips before I can stop myself. I don’t waste another second checking the bathroom or elsewhere for her things. I race back down the hall and stairs.
They’ve got, what, a fifteen-minute head start on me? Twenty at the most. I tug on my boots and jacket, scrambling to find my keys. “Where—”
Dad tosses the keys to the rental car at me. I catch them.
I stare down at the keys in hand before looking up. “I’m sorry, Dad,” I say. “I should have never lied about Joy. This wasn’t her idea. It really was all me. I had to beg her to stay and…she didn’t want money or…anything.” The more I say, the harder I want to kick my ass for letting her leave without telling her how much she means to me.
“You thought I didn’t know?” My father chuckles as my mother comes to stand beside him. He wraps an arm around her the same way I’ve done to Joy so many times in the past few days. That now feels like I didn’t do enough. “I know who works for my company, son. We just wanted to see how far you’d take it,” he muses before his expression becomes serious. “You love her, don’t you?”
So fucking much . “More than anything.”
“Then I fail to see the lie,” he says, opening the door. “Now go.” His eyes are misty atop his widespread grin. “Your future is waiting.”
I step outside, breathing in a deep, cold breath of crisp Wisconsin winter air. Light flakes of snow fall slowly from the dark sky and I turn. My family is crammed in the entryway, sending me off with smiles of encouragement to chase down my forever.
I don’t know what I’d do without them.
I grin.