Beau’s shoulders sag, like the question itself is too heavy.“She had a lot of money tied up in Redwood stock. When the company went under, she lost her savings.”
A piece of the puzzle clicks into place. “And she blamed you? Because of the hack?”
Gemma and her recreational stock habits all came crashing down because she followed the wrong tip.
Does Simon know that? Were Simon and Gemma working together?
Beau says solemnly, “I told her I was sorry. I offered her some money to get her back on her feet, but she wanted me to admit I had done it.”
The wind pushes hard on the trees down by the docks, their treetops bowing with the gust. And I wonder how much pressure they’ll submit to before they collapse.
“But I didn’t hack Redwood,” he says.
“That’s not the same thing as not being behind it.”
His eyes lift to mine, steady but shadowed. “No, it’s not.”
The words sink in my stomach until I think they’ve reached my toes, and it feels like I’m standing in quicksand. “What does that mean, Beau?”
There’s a commotion by the doors that lead from the living room out to the pool—someone’s just arrived.
From behind me, Polly shrieks, “He’s here!”
She’s racing from the pergola to the door as the color drains from my face.
Conversations falter and my breath catches at the top of my throat as we all watch him step outside.
Polly beams, and Simon Avery crouches to meet her, folding her into a hug.
She’s buzzing, practically dancing in place, and then, as if someone might have missed the way the earth shook a little and a hellmouth opened up beneath us, she shouts, “Dad, Uncle Simon’s here!”
Chapter 30
Simon Avery is Polly McGinnis’sUncle Simon?
My blood goes cold.
This isn’t worlds colliding. It’s the big bang. The extinction of dinosaurs and nuclear fallout rolled into one. A blast so potent, the poison could linger in the air for years to come.
Looking to Ford, then Simon, then Polly, I try to force my mind to time-hop. To mentally conjure Simon’s Rolodex circa six years ago. His roster was so star-studded any publicist would have traded their firstborn for it. If Ford McGinnis was in there, the name wouldn’t have stood out. He’d be yet another legendary phenom in a long list of the pro athletes, power brokers, and celebrities Simon liked to keep in his orbit.
But here he is, bending down to greet Polly in an exchange that is so wholesome, I half expect him to pull a quarter from behind her ear.
Too bad he’s here to destroy my husband.
Questions flood my thoughts, like a mushroom cloud in my mind detonating far and wide.
Did Ford lose money in the Redwood meltdown like Gemma? Is he in on whatever Simon’s scheming? Is anyone else here an accomplice to the Redwood revenge plot?
I scan the crowd for signs of recognition in their eyes. But Carol, Tippy, and Shep seem blissfully unaware.
My mouth is still slack when Beau hisses, “What the hell is he doing here?”
I can’t find the words to answer him, my gaze jumpingbetween the two of them for a moment. Beau notices what I don’t say.
“You knew?” His jaw tightens. “You knew he was in town?”
“I—”
