Chapter Thirty-eight #2
When it dawns on me, I storm the last fifty feet into the service bay and snap at Lincoln and Dax, “Family meeting. Right fucking now.”
They follow me into the small break room near the front counter. I text Mia, who’s on towing duty, to see where she is. She texts back that she’s five minutes out. I ask her to swing by the Andersons’ and get Christian.
“What’s this all about?” Dax asks.
Seething, I say, “I’ll tell you as soon as Mia gets here. Ten minutes.”
Dax turns to leave. “Call me when she gets here.”
“Sit the fuck down.” I point to one of the chairs. “Stay,” I say as if speaking to a couple of dogs. I go out into the warehouse and ask Jack to man the counter for a half hour.
On my way back in, I stop at the coffee machine in the reception area and pour myself a cup, gathering my thoughts and taking a few deep breaths so I don’t physically harm anyone.
“Does this have something to do with Kenna or that psycho-dude who showed up last week?” Lincoln asks when I step back in the break room.
“No.”
I just say the one word, then sit at the table and sip my coffee. Both my brothers must know I mean business as neither of them speaks. But I swear they’re texting each other as they sit silently across the table.
Mia and Christian join us, both looking concerned over my deeply troubled expression.
“Now will you tell us what all this cloak and dagger shit is?” Dax asks then turns to Christian. “Sorry.”
I let it slide. I have more important things to yell at him for than cursing in front of my kid. I may utter a few four-letter words myself considering the state I’m in.
I finish my coffee and start pacing the room. “Which one of you ran your mouth off about either me wanting to leave the business, or the loan coming due?”
All of them look at each other, then back at me, nobody claiming anything.
“Come on. I know someone broke confidentiality.” I glare at Lincoln. “Did you go to one of our McQuaid cousins?”
He slaps a hand on the table, frustrated. “No, Carter, I didn’t talk to anyone about anything. I mean, Tiffany knows, but what does that matter? And what’s got you in this tizzy anyway?”
“Uh, Dad?” Christian looks all kinds of guilty. “I told Bug.”
I close my eyes. I should have anticipated that. Those two are joined at the hip. And she probably freaked out that Christian might not be around all the time and told her parents.
“Brother,” Dax says. “Who cares if everyone knows you’ll be leaving? They’re going to find out sooner or later.”
I finally take a seat and let out a long breath. “Someone paid off the loan. The entire balloon payment. And I have no idea who did it.”
Wide eyes stare at me as I tell everyone about my meeting at the bank.
All the details on the table, everyone agrees it must have been Allie who paid it. It makes the most sense. Except for one thing.
“Why would the loan being paid off be beneficial to Bug? I’m still leaving, which means Christian will still split his time between Calloway Creek and wherever we end up.”
Lincoln adds, “Maybe Bug misinterpreted what Christian told her and she assumed if the loan was paid, that would change things.”
“It wasn’t Allie,” Mia says.
I stare her down. “How do you know?”
She holds up her phone. “Because I asked her. And she would never lie to me.”
Dax leans back in his chair and curses loudly. “Fuuuuuuuck.”
Everyone in the room turns to him with raised eyebrows.
“What is it?” I ask, knowing he has insight we don’t.
“It’s got to be our new competition. What if they’re doing something underhanded? What if paying off the loan somehow entitles them to part ownership?”
My spine stiffens. Could it be? I get my phone and text John Walker, hoping he can shed some light. It’s a tense ten minutes of speculating and stressing before he texts me back.
I sigh in relief and tell the others, “John says it’s not possible for whoever paid it to gain any ownership. It’ll be treated as a gift, both legally and financially.”
“Could it have been a mistake?” Mia asks. “A banking error?”
“Doubtful,” I say. “I saw the cashier’s check. It was in the exact amount due on the note, down to the penny, and it had our loan number on it.”
“Where does this leave us?” Mia asks.
Lincoln whoops loudly. “It leaves us debt-free is where it leaves us. Why look a gift horse in the mouth? Who in the hell cares who paid it? Do you realize what this means for us?” His smile grows.
“No more monthly payments. No looming balloon payment. Even with the reduced amount of business we’re getting these days, we’re going to turn profits. Everything we make now is gravy.”
He’s not wrong. It’s everything we ever wanted for the business. But that’s not the point.
“What worries me is what’s going to happen when whoever paid it wants payback.”
“They can’t do that, though,” Mia says. “Can they? Once a loan is paid, they can’t ask for the money back.”
I shake my head. “No. But they can ask for something else.” Bile rises in my throat. “Oh, Jesus. Cyrus Kelly.”
“What does Kenna’s ex have to do with this?” Dax asks.
“I don’t know. But this smells of his crap. And I’m going to get to the bottom of it.” I stand and walk out of the room, phone in hand.
I know I leave them in a state of confusion, but I have to find out.
Jonah answers on the first ring. “I know you’re eager, Carter, but you have to give it time.”
“You said he had a lot of debt. Is it more than two-hundred-fifty thousand?”
“Hold on.” He comes back a minute later. “Yes.”
“Shit.”
“Why? What is it?”
“Someone paid off the shop loan anonymously.”
He laughs quietly. “Carter, I highly doubt it was this guy. Not with his track record of gambling. I don’t see him paying off anything if he has an extra quarter-mil lying around.
Guys like him would take it straight to the horse track to try and double it.
Besides, what would be in it for him if he got your business out of debt? ”
“I don’t know exactly. But the guy is an attorney. I assume that means he knows a lot more about how things work legally than any of us do.”
“I think you’re barking up the wrong tree. You have a lot of wealthy friends and relatives. Wouldn’t that seem to be the more likely case?”
“You’d think.” Another thought comes to me, an open thread maybe he can also help with. “Ah, hey, Jonah? Can you ask one more favor of your PI friend? I’m willing to pay for this one.”
I give him the details of the loan and the cashier’s check hoping his contact can find out who’s behind it.
Then, since it’s Friday, and there’s not a single goddamn thing that could keep me away—not family squabbles, mystery loan payoffs, or maniacal ex-husbands—I say goodbye to Christian, head out to my car, and drive north.
Every mile sheds a little more stress knowing I’m going to see her. Smell her. Touch her.
But then I find myself holding my breath when I turn into the driveway, wondering if this will be the day I find the cabin deserted and the love of my life long fucking gone.