Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
SUMMER
"Baby girl, you have landed a seriously nice gig," my dad said, lounging on the back terrace of Rycroft Castle.
Seeing my dad in these surroundings was bizarre. His worn jeans, tie-dyed t-shirt, and scraggly hair did not fit in with the splendor of Rycroft Castle.
He'd been quiet on the ride back to Atlanta, stonewalling all of Evers' attempts to get information. Evers asked about Maxwell Sinclair. Who they'd been working for. Exactly what Smokey had been doing for Maxwell and William Davis.
Smokey had ignored him, pretending to nap. Evers grew progressively more irritated as each mile sped by, his jaw tight, eyes hard. By the time we reached Atlanta, he could barely grind out a word.
I wanted to step in and bridge the gap, but what was there to say? Evers had his own agenda, and Smokey didn't want to play along.
I had never in my life been able to get Smokey to do anything he didn't want to do. Smokey went his own way.
Neither of us wanted him at Rycroft. For one thing, he didn't have the right to be there. It was Cynthia's house for the time being, and he was an uninvited guest.
Evers didn't want Smokey unsupervised in my condo. To be honest, I didn't want Smokey unsupervised in my condo. I didn't need much imagination to picture all the trouble he could get into.
The only other acceptable location was the safe room at Sinclair Security.
The safe room. Such a friendly name for what I suspected amounted to little more than a locked cell. Of course, Smokey refused that option. I hadn't liked it much myself.
My dad was in some trouble. I knew that. If he'd been working with Maxwell Sinclair, he'd been up to no good.
But he was my dad. The idea of dropping him off at the Sinclair building to be locked away until he did what they wanted didn't sit right.
He wasn't a good guy all the time, but he wasn't a criminal. Well, okay, he was a criminal. Kind of. He definitely broke the law when it came to drugs.
If half of what Evers and his brothers suspected about their father was true and Smokey had been working for him, then he'd stepped well beyond misdemeanor possession.
Why didn't that matter? Why couldn't I push him out the door and let the Sinclairs deal with him? Their mother had been threatened. They had a right to be worried. If my dad had anything to do with putting their mother in danger, he should fix it.
I was Team Evers, right?
Right?
Every time I wondered, all I could think was he's my dad. He'd never been a great father, but he was the only one I had.
I wanted him to do the right thing, but I didn't want him hurt in the process.
We pulled into Rycroft Castle intending to get rid of Smokey as soon as we could. Cynthia met us at the door and invited him to stay.
Simple as that.
Not simple at all and a terrible idea.
We didn't have a better solution. Smokey and I were dead set against the safe room option. Evers wouldn't consider my condo or a hotel.
Rycroft Castle was crawling with security. No one could get in and Smokey couldn't get out.
Evers had confiscated Smokey's phone before we'd left Warren's house and refused to give it back. Smokey begged me to intercede, but one look at Evers and I'd kept my mouth shut.
Sitting beside me, a whiskey in his hand, Smokey took a long drag on his cigarette, tapping the ash onto the flagstone terrace. I winced. "I'm sure we have an ashtray around here somewhere."
Smokey shrugged. What did he care about an ashtray? Someone else would clean up the mess.
"Look," I said, "Cynthia said it was okay for you to stay, but this is her place. You need to treat it with respect. You're a guest here."
Smokey took another drag off his cigarette, blowing the air out in a thin stream. "You look good, Summer girl. Doing well. Happy. I don't want to mess that up for you. I don't have to. You could just open the door and let me walk away. I can't help your boy anyway. I don't know a thing."
"They don't believe that. I'm not sure I do either."
My dad gave me an entreating look. His eyes, so like mine, betrayed nothing but wounded innocence.
"Summer, I know I'm not the best dad. I know I like my weed and whiskey too much.
Know I wasn't always there for you. But do you really think I'm mixed up in some sort of real trouble? You know that's not me."
He was saying everything I'd been thinking.
And yet, behind his practiced expression, there was something else. Something canny and hard.
"I can't believe you'd treat your dad like this. You don't have the right to take me prisoner."
"You have free room and board in a castle," I said wryly. "I saw where you were staying with Warren."
I shuddered a little at the thought of the ancient camper, almost as filthy as Warren's house had been. Whatever my father had done, he must have been scared to hide out there.
With a sinking heart, I said, "Dad, don't lie to me. I know you're in trouble, and I know you can help the Sinclairs. I don't understand why you won't tell them what you know."
"Because it's none of their goddamn business," Smokey said, taking a final drag on his cigarette before grinding it out on the bottom of his shoe and flicking the butt into the flower bed at the edge of the terrace.
I made a mental note to pick it up and throw it out before I went in. I'd have to apologize to the cleaning staff and make sure they got a bonus, even if I had to pay for it out of my own pocket. My father was becoming a strain on my budget.
"You need to stay out of my business, Summer. Safer for everyone that way."
"How can you say that? I saw your place. I know someone broke in looking for something. I'm worried. You're my Dad."
"Then act like it and do what you're told. Your boyfriend made me leave my stash at the trailer. Give me your phone so I can make a call."
"No," I said, shooting to my feet. "I am not giving you my phone, especially not so you can call a drug dealer to come to Cynthia Stevens' house. Are you crazy? I don't care if she said you can stay here. This is ridiculous—"
Smokey waved a hand telling me to sit back down, not the least bit disturbed by my outburst. I sank back into my chair, a familiar impotent frustration rising in my chest.
I wanted to shout, to make demands, and I knew it wouldn't do any good with my father. He'd just give me the same lazy look and wait for me to burn myself out. Then he'd do whatever he'd planned in the first place.
He shook his head at me in regret and said, "I don't know how your mother and I had such a boring kid. She was too together for me, but at least she had a spark. She had fire. You're all about rules and doing the right thing. Like a little hall monitor. Never any fun."
Evers' voice came from behind us, tight and angry. "You need to shut the fuck up right now."
His hand dropped to my shoulder, giving me a squeeze. He ran his knuckles across my cheek before moving to stand in front of us, arms crossed over his chest.
He'd changed when we got back to Rycroft, but even in jeans and a T-shirt he was intimidating. Smokey blew me off without a second thought, but one look at Evers and he cringed.
Proving he wasn't the sharpest tack in the box, he raised his chin in defiance. "Don't tell me how I can talk to my own daughter."
"I will if you speak to her with anything less than respect.
Your daughter is smart and successful. She works hard.
She's fun. She's a great friend and everyone loves her.
You? Haven't heard many people say that about you.
If it weren't for your daughter you'd be locked up right now, so if you've got a brain in your head—which I doubt—I'd suggest treating her better. "
Smokey's eyes shifted away, and he declined to answer. Evers ignored him.
To me, he said, "I have no idea what's gotten into her, but Cynthia insists that Smokey stay here. Says he's family. We'll stick with that for now."
To Smokey, who still refused to meet his eyes, he said, "Security has you on their radar. They're watching you, stay away from the phones and behave yourself."
Still no comment from my father. Again to me, Evers said, "Cynthia is looking for you."
I met his worried eyes and tried to give him a reassuring smile, but I couldn't pull it off. "I'll go find her in a minute. Thanks."
Evers nodded and left. So much energy trying to find my father, and now that he was here… I let out a long sigh.
"Summer, girl, I get what you see in him. I'm not blind, and I know the Sinclairs. Rich as hell. He's a good score, but he is not looking out for you."
Smokey lit another cigarette, taking a deep drag. When he spoke again, it was through a cloud of smoke. "He's got problems with his father, he's gotta watch out for his mama. You are not at the top of his list, you get me?"
I gritted my teeth against the brush of fear at my father's words. Quietly, I said, "You're wrong."
He was wrong. Evers said he loved me. He might have lied before and played me to keep me away from his friends, but he wouldn't lie about love. He wouldn't.
Sensing weakness, my father dug deeper. "I know you can get around the security.
You and I should just go. We can go back to your place or take off somewhere.
You've got cash. Let's just get the hell out of here.
He's using both of us. He used you to get to me and now he's only biding his time, thinking I'll give in. I can't help him find his father."
"You knew Maxwell was alive, didn't you?" I was getting tired of his protests of innocence. Maybe I wasn't entirely sure of Evers, but I knew my dad wasn't on the level.
"Hell, they already know he's not dead. It isn't exactly news," he said, dismissing Maxwell's return to life as if it were no big deal.
"It was news to them," I snapped. "Having it confirmed would be helpful. Anything would be helpful. Anything other than sitting out here drinking and chain-smoking."
"Summer, you're wasting your time. I can't help you. I can't help your boy. The longer you hang around thinking he's going to come through for you, the harder the fall will be when he walks away. Trust me. I'm your dad. I'm looking out for you."
I pushed myself out of the chair and walked down the steps of the terrace to pick up the cigarette butt he'd flipped in the flower bed. He hadn't changed, and he never would. If I could have thought of a better place to stash him than Rycroft Castle, I would have taken it.
Instead, I said, "I have to find Cynthia and see what she needs. Dinner is at seven. Try to stay out of trouble."