Chapter 5
The Washington West (otherwise known as Wa-West) high school fast pitch softball season lasted twenty regular games, not counting postseason. There were two games a week, plus invitationals, for ten weeks, equally divided between home and away. Games were seven innings, unless there was a tie, or one team was ahead by more than fifteen runs at the end of the fifth.
Start time ranged from three thirty to five, depending on the location. Home games started promptly at four. Summer had been on the team since her freshman year and in all that time, Erica hadn’t missed a single game. Peter came to a couple a year, Mara stopped by to see her granddaughter play at least a few times a month, but no matter what else was happening in her life, Erica showed up to cheer on her kid.
As she walked from the parking lot to the playing field, she glanced at the gray sky. Rain was common in March, but according to the local weather app, it should hold off until around seven, giving the team plenty of time to slaughter their opponents. The temperature was in the upper forties—not exactly ideal outdoor viewing weather, but she’d grown up in the Pacific Northwest and knew how to layer with the best of them. Her jacket had a hood and she’d brought a scarf and a blanket. Unfortunately, she’d forgotten to change out of her high-heeled boots into something more sensible, so had to cross the few feet of muddy grass with her weight on her toes.
The stands were half-full, mostly with clusters of moms sitting together and talking. Erica recognized a few of them as other mothers of Wa-West players. Several of the team members had been playing since they were eight or nine, so the families knew each other well.
Summer had gotten interested in softball when she’d been around ten. Peter had wanted her to find a sport she liked—anything to keep her out of Erica’s salon-based world. In the beginning play had been casual and Erica hadn’t gotten involved. But in middle school Summer had joined a local league and started to shine as a player, and Erica had begun attending games.
The other moms, most of them stay-at-home types, had been friendly, inviting Erica to sit with them. But after the games, when they’d hung out over barbecues or potlucks, Erica had needed to get back to work. The start times had been even earlier then, cutting into her hours at the salons. She’d been unable to join them on afternoons of shopping or DIY projects. Eventually they’d stopped inviting her to sit with them, or maybe she’d stopped saying yes. At this point, she wasn’t sure which.
Which explained why, although she smiled and waved at the women she’d known for six or seven years, she didn’t head in their direction, nor had they saved her a seat. Instead she sat, as she always did, by herself.
This was fine, she told herself, draping the blanket across her lap. She was here to support her daughter and watch the game. Nothing else was important. All her life she’d had to follow her own path—it was the price of success. She didn’t want anything different.
Despite her brave words, she found herself glancing at the other moms. They were talking and laughing, obviously comfortable with each other, and why wouldn’t they be? They’d been close for years. Their daughters were friends, and they were friends. Erica was the only outsider.
Summer’s team was first at bat. Erica watched, then cheered as her daughter hit a double, which scored a run. By the end of the first inning, the Wa-West Raptors were ahead by four. By the third, they were ahead by ten. Erica found herself hoping for a few more runs and an early wrap-up to the game.
“Hi, Erica.”
Erica turned and saw Crystal, one of the softball moms, approaching. Behind her, the other moms watched carefully, as if they wanted to judge Erica’s reaction to whatever was going to be discussed.
“Hi.” Erica smiled brightly. “Could it be colder?”
“I know.” Crystal, a pretty blonde with delicate features, smiled as she sat down. “It’s freezing. I was torn between hoping for rain so the game was canceled or dressing in more layers.”
“A missed game just means a tighter schedule at the end of the season.”
“That’s what I told myself, so I picked the layers.” Crystal laughed. “Not that I have weather superpowers. So, um, how are you?”
“Good. Busy. What about you?”
“The same. Declan, my youngest, is going to be seven, if you can believe it. Probably time for me to get a job or something.” She wrinkled her nose. “I haven’t worked since Jeff and I got married and it’s not like we need the money, but I need a little more in my life than taking care of the family and the house.” She tilted her head. “Not that you can relate, right? I mean you’ve always been a tycoon.”
“I’m not sure tycoon is the right word,” Erica murmured, unable to relate to Crystal’s description of her day. Of course her own schedule—running four spas while being a single mom—would be just as foreign.
A crack of a bat had them both glancing at the field.
“Another run,” Crystal said. “Maybe this game will end early.” She held up a hand. “I don’t mean that in a bad way.”
“I know. It’s a weather thing.”
Crystal smiled, then looked away. Erica waited, not sure why the other woman had stopped by. Crystal gave her yet another smile.
“So, um, we were wondering about the spa packages at Twisted. We were thinking about having a girls’ day out. We’ve heard there’s a special room at the Kirkland place that you can’t book online, so we, ah, thought maybe I should talk to you.”
“A spa day?” Erica repeated before she could stop herself. “With the other softball moms?”
Crystal’s gaze dropped to her lap. “Yes.”
Because those women were friends, Erica thought, refusing to acknowledge any reaction on her part. Friends who got together and did things like spa days. It was normal and good for business.
“You’re right—there’s a treatment area for private parties. It’s on the top floor with a beautiful view of the lake. There’s a lovely patio, although this time of year we don’t use it. The dressing area and bathrooms are separate, but all the treatments are done as a group. We can do massages, facials, mani-pedis, along with hair and even makeup, if you want. We cater lunch.”
The sales pitch was easy and practiced. No thought was required. As she spoke, she told herself to stay relaxed, to not feel anything. This was business and nothing more. She and those women had never been close. They wouldn’t think to invite her and if they did, she would never accept.
She pulled a business card out of her handbag. “Here’s my contact information. Email me a few dates, along with the services you’re interested in, and I’ll see what I can do.”
Crystal took the card. “Are you sure?”
“It’s what I do.” She faked humor. “Sort of a tycoon thing.”
Crystal laughed. “Thanks for this. We’ll figure out what we want, then be in touch.”
With that, she got up and made her way back to her friends. Rather than watch her go, Erica returned her attention to the game. The Raptors had scored another two runs. At this rate, the game would only last an hour or so, and wouldn’t that be nice. When it was over, she could escape back to one of her salons and get lost in a world that made a lot more sense to her.
Allison counted the diapers on the shelf. Thank goodness she’d just bought two boxes with a coupon she’d found online. Each box lasted about three weeks. With those and the loose ones in the drawer, she figured she was good for at least seven weeks.
She’d decided to prioritize her expenses. Until Peter called, she was still pretty much in the dark, but whatever happened, they were still going to be in trouble, money-wise. At least until the bank released their accounts.
Diapers, food, medical insurance, electricity and water. Those were the most important items. She’d already canceled the cable and internet. There were two more rent payments until their lease ended, so she supposed she should add those to the list. She’d never once not paid a bill. When she’d been a kid, money had been tight but somehow her dad had found a way. When she and Levi had been married and she’d been putting him through HVAC tech school, they’d struggled to survive financially, but somehow had always made it work. It wasn’t in her nature to deliberately stiff someone. But the rent was so high and the landlord was tossing them out whether they wanted to go or not. Perhaps more to the point, she didn’t have anything to pay him with. The twenty-two dollars she had in her wallet wouldn’t go far. She’d requested more shifts at the grocery store, but she could only do that as long as she still had day care credits.
The fear she’d been living with for the past twenty-four hours cranked up a couple of degrees, fueled by reality and bitterness over how Liz had treated her. Everything about what was happening totally sucked. She hadn’t done anything wrong. She didn’t even know what had happened, but here she was, having to deal with it.
She touched her belly and told herself she had to keep breathing and try to relax for the sake of the baby. Her credit card, if it kept working, would cover the huge medical insurance premium for at least two months. If she used part of her next paycheck to cover the minimum credit card payment, she could string that along for even longer. The rest of her paycheck should cover food and utilities. It wasn’t ideal, but it might be enough to make sure she and Jackson got by until Peter returned home to fix everything.
Allison went into the living room, where Jackson sat on the floor, happily playing with his farm playset. There was a barn, a farmer and several animals. Jackson loved opening and closing the plastic doors, putting the animals inside, then taking them out.
Knowing he was all right pushed away some of the fear. She continued into the kitchen, where she did a quick inventory of the food she had on hand. Jackson needed milk, along with fresh fruits and vegetables, and she had to worry about eating healthy for Bethany’s sake. Healthy didn’t come cheap. Still, she could supplement their diets with a lot of what was in the pantry. She had plenty of cereal, packages of rice and pasta, canned soups and beans. She’d always made a point to shop the sales—now she would put those skills to good use.
As she returned to sit with Jackson, she carefully avoided looking at the certified letter that had been delivered shortly after she’d gotten home from being thrown out of day care. She didn’t have to open it to know what was inside. Their landlord was once again reminding them to vacate in about ten weeks. She and Peter had started looking at places last weekend and were going to make their decision this weekend. In less than three months, she would have nowhere to live. Worse, she didn’t have any money for a security deposit or the move.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “Peter will be home soon and everything will be fine.”
She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and set it on the floor. Eventually Peter would call—he had to. He was the only one with answers.
It rang a few minutes before four. The same mechanical voice asked if she would accept a collect call.
“Yes,” she said, trying not to sound frantic so as not to upset Jackson. “Yes, I will.”
“Allison.”
Relief poured through her. She hung on to her phone. “Peter! Are you all right? What’s happening? How can you be in federal custody? Why are you suspected of money laundering and wire fraud? Peter, what’s going on? I’m so scared.”
“You know about the charges?”
“Summer told me.”
“You told her where I was?” His tone was accusing.
“I didn’t have a choice. She walked in while I was terrified and sobbing last night. I tried to pretend it was just pregnancy hormones, but she wouldn’t believe me. So yes, I told her.”
She felt her temper rising. “What your daughter knows and doesn’t know isn’t the point. Peter, you’ve been arrested. How is that possible?”
“It’s all a misunderstanding. You have to believe me. One of my clients is a criminal and they think I was involved with him, but I wasn’t. I only handled his legitimate businesses. I’m working on getting a lawyer who can help.”
She desperately wanted to believe him. “You didn’t do anything wrong?”
“Of course not.” His voice softened. “Allison, I love you and Jackson so much. You know that. I would never do anything to hurt you or put you at risk. I’m sick about this.”
“Me, too. So when can you come home?”
“I don’t know. Like I said, I’m working on getting a lawyer who can help.”
“But we don’t have any money!”
“There are ways around that. If we can pull together the retainer, they’ll usually wait for the rest of it.”
“I only have twenty-two dollars.”
“I know. It’s okay. I’ll figure it out. You know you can use your credit card, right? It’s with a different bank, so it shouldn’t be frozen.”
She nodded, even though he couldn’t see her. “If I pay the minimum payment, I can keep using it for a while. I was thinking I would put the medical insurance on it. We can’t lose that.” Not when she was going to have a baby in a couple of months.
“Don’t do anything for a week or so,” he told her. “Let’s see how things settle.”
Her breath caught as hope filled her. “You think you’ll be released in the next week?”
“No, not that. Just some other things.”
Hope died. “What does that mean?”
“I can’t explain it now. Just trust me, Allison.”
“I need you to explain things. Peter, I’m scared. I don’t know what to do. Why won’t you be honest with me?”
“The calls are recorded.” He sounded frustrated and unhappy. “I have to be careful.”
But if he was innocent, why would he care about them recording the call?
She shook off the question. “What should I do?”
“Live your life. I’ll stay in touch. This will all blow over, you’ll see. I love you, Allison. I’ll always take care of you.”
Right now he wasn’t taking care of anything, she thought bitterly.
“I need you to do a couple of things for me.”
She brushed away tears she hadn’t felt fall. “Like what?”
“I have dry cleaning. The receipt is in my blue blazer. Can you pick that up?”
He wanted her to get his dry cleaning? “You’re in jail and you’re worried about your clothes?”
Her voice was a shriek. Jackson stared at her. She faked a laugh and a big smile.
“It’s okay,” she said quickly. “Look at that pink pig. Oink.”
Jackson giggled, then returned his attention back to his play. She drew in a couple of breaths.
“I’ll get your dry cleaning.”
“Thank you. I also need you to go by the office. I’m sure they served a search warrant, so it’s probably a mess. I want to know how bad it is and if anyone is still working.”
She resisted the need to curl up in a ball. His business. She hadn’t thought about what was happening there. Peter was the person in charge. He ran everything. Without him, she wasn’t sure it could survive.
“Why wouldn’t they be?” she asked. “Won’t Gail handle things?” Gail was his office manager and had been with Peter practically since he opened the business.
“I hope so,” he said cautiously. “But I need to be sure. Can you go in the morning? You know where the spare keys are.”
“I’ll go. Peter, none of this makes sense. Why is it happening?”
“I wish I knew. I have to go. I’ll call you tomorrow. In a few days, you can come see me and we’ll be able to speak more freely.”
Of course she had to go see him, she thought, stunned that the possibility hadn’t occurred to her before. Visitors were allowed, weren’t they? She knew where he was being held—she would have to look up the rules.
“Peter, wait!” She paused, not sure what to say. “I miss you.”
“I miss you, too. More than I can say. I’ll call tomorrow.”
The call disconnected.
She sat there for a few seconds, telling herself she would give in to the fear and dread later, when Jackson was asleep. She didn’t want her breakdown to upset him and she didn’t want to trigger a panic attack, so she sucked in a couple of breaths, then plastered on a smile.
“What about the chicken?” she asked, picking up the white plastic piece.
He pointed to the front of the barn. “Here.”
“That’s a good spot for our chicken.”
They played until dinnertime. She put together an easy meal of chicken over pasta with a few cut-up vegetables for him and ate one of the enchiladas with salad. She’d just put Jackson to bed when she remembered Peter’s request that she get his dry cleaning.
Seriously, how could the man be worried about his wardrobe while he was in jail? Although she supposed it would be foolish to not get the clothes. It wasn’t as if they could afford to replace them.
She found his blue blazer in their closet. When she stuck her hand in the right-hand pocket, she felt several pieces of paper. But not a dry cleaning receipt—a wad of twenty-dollar bills.
She sank onto the bed and spread out the money. She counted five hundred dollars. Given how grim things were right now, it felt like all the money in the world. Five hundred dollars! She could buy the fruits and vegetables Jackson needed. She could buy meat! And pay the utility bills and put gas in her car. If she didn’t have to use the credit card for that sort of thing, she might squeeze an extra month of medical insurance out of it.
She flopped onto her back and smiled up at the ceiling. Peter had known about the money and wanted her to have it. He was right—he was taking care of her. He was a good man who loved her. Somehow they would fix what was going wrong and they could be together again. For always.