Page 21 of The Guilty Trial

“Then he, well, he started asking for money.” Scarlett’s voice dropped even lower. “He said he needed help getting back on his feet. I told him he should ask Mom if he needed money.”

Darla exhaled loudly. She turned around and put her back to both her daughter and Allie, then crossed her arms and lowered her head.

Allie knew she must be feeling every emotion right now. But she let her be and continued with Scarlett. “And what did he say to that?”

“He said things were complicated and asked how much I could loan him. Said he’d pay me back soon, once he got settled.”

Darla, still turned away, made a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob. “Of course he did.”

Allie leaned forward slightly. “Did you give him any money, Scarlett?”

The girl nodded as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. “I met him at the bank on Friday afternoon. I gave him two thousand dollars.”

Darla spun around. “You what?” Her voice cracked. “Scarlett, that was from your ice cream shop job. You’re saving for college.”

“I know.” Scarlett’s face pinched into a confusion mask of grief. “I’m sorry. He said he really needed it and he couldn’t get it anywhere else. He’s my dad.”

Allie waited a moment before continuing, giving the girl time to compose herself. “Scarlett, did your father tell you what he needed the money for?”

She shook her head without lifting her face. “No. He just said it was important. I just wanted to help. He’s been through so much.”

“Has he contacted you since you saw him?”

“No.” The word was muffled by Scarlett’s hands. “I haven’t heard from him after that.”

“And did he mention anyone else during your conversations? Any names? Any plans, perhaps?”

Scarlett lowered her hands, wiping at her face again. “He said something about how things were going to change from now on.”

Allie made a note. “Did he say what he meant by that?”

“No. Just that the money was going to make everything better.” Scarlett sniffled, and her voice trembled. “Why is the FBI asking about my dad? Is he in trouble?”

Darla moved around the counter, turned her daughter to face her, and hugged her. “Go upstairs, sweetheart,” she said gently. “We’ll talk about this later.”

“But Mom⁠—”

“Now, Scarlett, please.” Darla kept her voice soft, but it was obvious there was no arguing with her.

The girl stood slowly, casting one more uncertain glance at Allie before leaving the kitchen. Her footsteps were heavy on the stairs, followed by the sound of a door’s latch clicking into place.

Darla waited until the house fell silent before sinking into the chair her daughter had vacated. She stared blankly at the table for a long moment, and when she lifted her head, her eyes were bright with unshed tears. She looked ten years older than she had when Allie had arrived. “She was twelve when Aris went to prison. It was a very troubling time for her. Watching her father get arrested, the trial, all of it. She had nightmares for months.”

“I can imagine,” Allie said, knowing that Darla had no idea just how true that statement was.

“She always held out hope that he would be a part of her life when he got out.” Darla’s laugh was bitter. “I tried to prepare her for reality, but teenage girls don’t listen to their mothers about things like that.”

Allie looked at her notes. “Scarlett said he couldn’t get it anywhere else. Do you know who else he might have called first?”

Darla nodded slowly. “Vinny Lucas, if I had to guess. He’s a bookie. Before Aris was arrested, he used Vinny to enable his gambling habit. He’d bet on anything—football, basketball, horses, you name it. It didn’t matter what sport or what odds. If someone would take his money, he’d bet it.” Her voice grew harder. “We nearly lost the house twice because of it. I’d come home from work and find collection notices in the mailbox. Men would show up at the door asking for him. I had to take out a second mortgage just to keep us afloat, and then he turned around and blew that money too. We had to move after he went to prison. We’re just renting this place.”

Allie thanked Darla and left, fully understanding the grief and anger the mother and daughter would be dealing with for a long time yet. This was the worst part of her job, she reflected. Upending people’s lives who had already been dealt a raw hand, getting a front row seat to the pain and trauma caused by other people’s poor and selfish decisions.

She texted Jason from her car. Got a lead on Bennett. Pick you up for a surprise visit?

Chapter Eleven

Pacific Marine Supply