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“Okay, for the sake of argument, I’ll assume you’re telling me the truth. Was there anything inside the package to indicate who had sent it?”
“Nope. Nothing. And you can bet I searched through every single bill to see if anyone had left a note on one of them.”
“What investigation did you do after you received it?”
“What do you mean?”
“To try to figure out who sent it?”
“I didn’t.”
“Right. Someone sends you a hundred grand in the mail, and you don’t even question it?”
“Brad, it was an answer to a prayer. It was the money to pay for Daphne’s treatment. I was looking at a second mortgage on my house, maybe selling my car. So no, I didn’t question it. I just thanked God.”
I didn’t believe him. Not even for a second. But what could I say? I couldn’t fault his story. I’d looked high and low, and the money had no trail.
Which meant his story could actually be true.
But it didn’t ring true to me.
I’d point-blank asked Larry if he’d paid for Daphne’s treatment, and he’d point-blank told me he hadn’t.
But I didn’t trust Larry, either.
It could have come from Larry. He’d had that kind of money at the time, but why would he hide the fact that he was paying for it?
Something didn’t add up.
Tom and Theo and Wendy all had that kind of money as well, but they wouldn’t pay for Daphne’s treatment. Why should they? Because they were Larry’s friends? Business partners?
If Larry hadn’t paid, why would they?
“Who do you know who might have had that kind of money and would want to help you and your daughter?” I asked.
“No one.”
“Think harder.”
“I’m not lying to you. Do you think I haven’t wondered myself? Who would do this for my family? I racked my brain and came up with nothing.”
I sighed. What could I say? I couldn’t prove otherwise because there was no trail. None at all.
“Did you think about seeing if there were any fingerprints on the box?”
“I considered it, but then decided not to.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because I needed the money. I wanted the money. For Daphne. For Lucy. Fuck. Even for myself. I didn’t want to mortgage the house. I needed the house for my wife and daughter.”
“And you were afraid the money might be dirty and might get confiscated.”
“The thought crossed my mind. Tell me, Brad. What would you have done in my shoes?”
It was an interesting question, and one that in all honesty hadn’t occurred to me. I had my own problems, but money had never been one of them.
“Probably the same thing. I would have put Daphne’s well-being first. I do that every day.”
“Then you understand.”
“I do. Now tell me about Larry.”
Chapter Forty-Six
Daphne
“How far along are you, honey?”
My neck nearly snapped at my mother’s questions. Was it that obvious?
“About three months. How could you tell?”
“Your body changes. Your hips are a little curvier, your cheeks a little rosier.”
“Really? Because I feel like crap.”
“Yes, the morning sickness. It should subside soon. You look beautiful. You looked exactly the same when you were pregnant with Jonah and Talon.”
“And Ryan?”
“We didn’t see you when you were pregnant with Ryan. Brad said you were on bedrest and couldn’t have visitors.”
I nodded. “Right.” No use telling her I didn’t remember that pregnancy. That would only worry her. I hadn’t experienced any significant time loss since then. Only a blip here and there. Nothing to worry about. If it didn’t affect my family, I had no reason to worry.
“Have you told the boys?” she asked.
“Not yet. Brad and I haven’t talked about when we should do that.”
“I’m sure they’ll be thrilled.”
“Yes, I hope so. I really hope this morning sickness calms down before our trip to Disneyland next week. Thank goodness Joe’s best friend is coming along. That way there’s an even number and I don’t have to go on any rides.”
“The boys will have a blast,” Mom said.
I smiled. I could get through morning sickness at Disneyland for my boys.
I’d do anything for my boys.
Dinner was weird.
My father and Brad were off again—that strange energy between them that I couldn’t put into words.
My mother talked animatedly with the boys, so at least we didn’t have that awkward silence. We ate on the deck, and Brad took over grilling from Belinda. I ate a potato and a cob of corn. I couldn’t do red meat when I was pregnant, but the rest of them seemed to enjoy the sirloin steaks.
What seemed like hours later, dinner was over, and my mom and dad got ready to drive back to their hotel.
“Why don’t you stay here?” I said.
“Oh, no,” Mom said. “I’m getting pampered at the Carlton. But we’ll come back for a longer visit soon.”
I kissed her cheek. “I’d like that.”
She pulled me into a hug and whispered, “Take care of yourself and the little one.”
