Page 29 of Veil of Silence

Finally, Nora’s father looked at his daughters. “Roy and I didn’t just fall out because of the tour schedule.”

Nora frowned. “What do you mean?”

Their father drew in a breath and dropped his gaze to the table.

“It started before that.” He paused. “I thought Roy was taking money behind our backs.”

Chapter

Ten

For a second, Nora thought she’d misunderstood her dad. But his expression remained unchanged, with no hint that he’d misspoken.

“You thought Uncle Roy was taking money behind our backs?”

Dad winced slightly at the old nickname. “At first. Kickbacks, maybe, or money under the table. I didn’t know exactly what to think.”

“From whom?” Austin asked.

“That was the problem. I couldn’t get a straight answer.”

Mom lowered herself into the chair across from him. “You told me you and Roy fought over the touring schedule. That you didn’t agree on how many dates to book.”

“That was part of it.” Dad rubbed his palms over his jeans. “Roy kept adding appearances that made no sense. Small churches hours out of our way. Stops that left us sitting in the same town an extra night before the next concert.”

“Why?” Nora asked.

“He claimed they were good opportunities. But whenever I said we couldn’t afford the detour, the expenses were suddenly covered. Someone paid for the hotel or reimbursed the fuel. Sometimes the guarantee increased enough to make the trip worthwhile.”

Austin’s attention sharpened. “Did that happen with every booking?”

“No. Only certain ones. Usually the ones Roy seemed determined not to turn down.”

“Did he tell you who was paying?”

“He always had an explanation. An anonymous donor wanted to bless us. A church had found extra money. A promoter had agreed to cover the hotel.” Dad’s mouth tightened. “Maybe some of that was true. But it happened too many times, and Roy would never give me a name. Nobody covers that many hotel bills out of kindness. I figured somebody was paying Roy on the side. I thought he knew more than he was telling me.”

Nora tried to picture Roy the way she’d known him then. Always with a phone pressed to his ear. Always joking with them before concerts. Always finding a restaurant still open after a late performance.

Uncle Roy. He’d never actually been their uncle, but none of them had cared about that.

“You confronted him?” Nora asked.

Dad rubbed the back of his neck. “More than once.”

“And what did he say?” Mom stared at Dad, her expression unreadable.

“That I didn’t know what I was talking about.”

Marlowe tipped her head. “Did you?”

Nora gave her sister a look.

“What?” Marlowe lifted one shoulder. “It’s a fair question.”

“It is.” Dad stared at the table. “And, no, I didn’t. Not really. I had suspicions. I didn’t have proof.”

Silence settled over the kitchen as Mason sent his soccer ball rolling beneath the table. Bo immediately chased it, bumped his head against a chair leg, then backed up and stared at the chair as if it had attacked him.