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Instead of settling down with it, she ran back downstairs, tossed her laptop in the car and took off for her brother’s house. “What the hell? What the hell?” she chanted the whole way.
His place was in Teton, of course, not in the town of Jackson. An important developer like him needed slope-side access and a prestigious address in addition to a very slim and well-mannered wife. Charlie had never visited her brother’s home, but she’d gotten the obligatory architecturally focused Christmas card every year.
In fact, she recognized the place from the cards when she finally pulled up, but the big For Sale sign out front was new. Charlie pulled carefully onto the steep, curv
ed driveway and got out. Even before she knocked, the house felt deserted. It was too quiet and too dark, even in the noon sunlight.
Shit. Noon. She’d be missed at work soon. She’d emailed both Keith and Dawn to let them know she’d be in after checking out the Ability Ranch, but coming in after noon was stretching it.
Charlie shifted from foot to foot, waiting for an answer to her knock. She rang the doorbell and knocked again, but she knew it was hopeless. Her brother had probably been kicked out, and his soon-to-be-ex-wife was obviously not home.
She called his cell phone and left a message when he didn’t answer. “Please call me as soon as you get this. It’s important.” Then she sent a text with the same message.
Damn him.
He couldn’t really have done this, could he? Yes, he’d always been an asshole, but this was just malicious, even for the sake of money.
After pacing back and forth for a few minutes beneath the portico of his ridiculous house, Charlie did the unthinkable: she willingly called her mom.
It was always the other way around. Her mom called Charlie. Usually to ask for a hundred bucks or so, to get her through the month. Back when she was flush with cash, Charlie had been happy to send it. It had been like paying an insurance premium. She sent the money, and her mom wouldn’t call again until she needed more. No late-night phone calls to lament about her latest true love. No unexpected visits on the arm of some new loser who’d never been to Vegas before. Charlie sent money, and the reward was silence.
The phone clattered as her mom picked it up. “Charlie? Is that you, honey?”
“Hi, Mom. How are you?”
“I’m good, honey. I’m really good. Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine. Have you heard from Brad lately?”
“No, not since Christmas,” her mom answered. “Why?”
“I’m just trying to track him down here in Jackson. I guess he’s moved out of his house. I don’t suppose you have a new address?”
“No, nothing. But I think Jacqueline is still living there, so you could drop by.”
“Thanks. I’m sure he’ll call back in a few minutes. Bye, Mom.”
“Wait!”
Charlie winced and eased her thumb back from the end button.
“You’re sure everything is okay? Are you doing well?”
“I’m good.”
“I don’t suppose you’ve met a cute man, have you? You know how much I love to hear love stories.”
Yes, she adored stories about men. So much so that she liked to start her own new story every few months.
“You know, I met somebody at a singles’ night last week,” her mom continued with a happy sigh. “He’s trying to start his own business, but you know how tough that can be. I—”
“I’ve got to go. But good luck with that.” Charlie hung up before her mom could go on. Her friends in Vegas had accused her of being mean to her mom when she would come visit. They’d thought her mom was sweet and funny. She was.
She was also unwise and foolish and perpetually unable to see anything beyond the creations of her own mind. Every love was true love, no matter how many true loves she’d met that year. Every man was a soul mate. Every boyfriend a potential fiancé.
Charlie’s childhood had been a revolving door of new daddies or special friends. Most of them had been mysteriously in transition between jobs and places to live.
Yeah, her mom was sweet, all right. Sweet enough to never see the truth about anyone or anything. Christ, singles’ night was a big improvement. She’d had two “boyfriends” last year who’d just been con artists working the internet. But the pictures they’d sent had been so gorgeous.
