Betting on Hope (41 page)

Kenji smiled. “A smoked fish,” he said. “Good one.”

“Hey,” Jack said. “I thought
I
was gravitas. I’m the lawyer.”

“I’m biggest,” Kenji said. “I’m gravitas. The smoked fish.”

“You can all be gravitas,” Tanner said. “Mainly I need Kenji to
look
threatening, Marty to
be
threatening, and Jack to do the paperwork.”

“What will you be doing while we’re all being gravitas?” Jack asked.

“I will be restraining myself from killing the bastard,” Tanner said.

Everyone observed a moment of silence.

“Will there be weapons?” Marty asked, clinically disinterested.

Kenji glanced at Tanner in the rearview mirror. “Weapons? Nobody said anything about weapons. Should I have brought my knives?”

Marty sized up Kenji again. “You’re a knife man?”

“Well—I’m a chef. The knives are incidental.”

Marty laughed. “This will be fun.”

“That’s what I think, too,” Tanner said, not smiling at all.

Kenji, following the beeping instructions of the SUV’s GPS system, got them to Derek McNaughton’s place without mishap. He pulled up to the curb, parked, turned off the engine. They all looked at the house.

“I’m feeling a lot better about this now,” Kenji said.

Tanner glanced at him, surprised. “What do you mean?”

Kenji shrugged. “Well—you’re my friend and I’d help you regardless, but—” He looked out at Derek McNaughton’s place.

“Derek McNaughton’s got money,” Kenji finished.

“Hell, yes,” Marty said. “That’s an effing mansion.”

“Well, a small mansion,” Jack corrected.

“Okay,” Marty agreed. “A
small
effing mansion. Who would have guessed he had any money? He’s not much of a card player.”

“Looks like he’s got a
lot
of money,” Jack said.

“Some of it was Hope’s money,” Tanner said, feeling a spurt of rage for Derek McNaughton’s theft. “Let’s go in and get it back.” He got out of the car, slamming the door with more force than was necessary, and strode to the front door.

Marty stepped in front of him and rang the bell while Jack detoured over to the garage. He put his hands against a glass window and leaned in to see.

“Car’s here,” he said, coming back and dusting off his hands. “Nice Mercedes E-Series. I looked at one of those when I was trading up.”

“He’s here, then,” Tanner said, hearing how grim he sounded.

Marty rang again, and then they heard footsteps approach and the door swung open. Derek was tall, and his posture was straight and relaxed. His light hair had gone mostly gray and his freckled face was weathered from the sun, but his light blue eyes were clear.

Hope’s got good genes
, Tanner realized as he saw her father for the first time. He didn’t like him any better because of it.

“Marty!” Derek said, looking surprised. “And Tanner? Tanner Wingate? Who are the rest of your friends? And what are you doing here?”

“Long story,” Marty said. “Can we come in?”

“I’m not sure—” Derek said, but Marty had already pushed his way past the front door.

Tanner followed Marty into the house. “We’re the guys who’re helping Hope,” he said. “Remember her? She’s your daughter.”

A half-hour later, Tanner lost his temper.

“The ranch is mine,” Derek said. “You said so yourself. You got it back from the feds. I appreciate that. Thank you.”

“We didn’t get it back for you, you son-of-a—”

“Tanner.” Marty raised his hand and turned to Derek. “You’re the middleman here, Derek. The feds can take back the ranch, or you can sell it to Suzanne for a reasonable amount. Either way, you won’t keep it. And why let the feds have it?”

“I don’t see why I shouldn’t keep it. It’s mine now. Are you sure you won’t have any of this melon? It’s delicious.”

Kenji reached out for the melon plate and picked it up.

“We’re not here for melon,” he said, and carried it into the kitchen.

“Big guy,” Derek said, as he watched Kenji disappear down the hallway.

“And he knows how to use knives,” Jack said.

“Like a
pro,
” Tanner said.

“
So like I said
.” Marty glared at all of them. “That ranch is going to Suzanne.”

“The hell it is,” Derek said.

Feeling crowded by anger and inaction, Tanner jumped to his feet. All eyes swiveled to him.

“Derek, let me spell it out for you,” he said. “You’re going to sell the ranch to Suzanne for a fair price.”

A smile creased Derek’s face. “Fair market value is two million dollars.”

“Not even close,” Tanner snorted. “One dollar. Jack has the paperwork right here.”

Derek laughed. “You’re crazy.” He started to get up just as Kenji came back from the kitchen. “Excuse me, boys, I’ve got to—”

Tanner put his hands on Derek’s shoulders and shoved him down so hard the chair rocked back. Derek’s eyes opened in shock.

“Sit down, Derek, while I explain why one dollar is a fair market price. Seventeen years ago when you abandoned your family, you had two minor children and a wife who was unemployable.”

“She was a showgirl,” Derek said. “She made good money.”

“Not two kids later, she didn’t. Or couldn’t, with stretch marks and no education and no other skills,” Tanner said.

“We split the assets in the divorce,” Derek said.

“She kept the cash, you kept the ranch,” Tanner nodded. “She used the thirty thousand to support them all while she looked for a job because you didn’t pay alimony or child support. When the cash ran out, your older daughter, Hope—remember her?—she was fifteen. She got a job off the books after school to help meet expenses, because
you
, Derek, charged them rent.”

“Suzanne never complained,” Derek said.

“When did Suzanne ever complain?” Marty asked. “That’s why you married her. Now shut up, Derek, because if you don’t, I can make you.”

“You wouldn’t,” Derek said, but he glanced at Marty’s fists.

“Any of us would,” Marty said, unclenching his hands and rubbing them down the legs of his pants.

“
So
,” Tanner said, “because Suzanne wouldn’t ask a herd of stampeding buffalo to stop trampling her, you never paid child support and you never paid alimony. You charged them rent. You didn’t maintain your property. You didn’t contribute to your kids’ college educations—”

“I don’t have to do that!” Derek said. “They’re eighteen, they’re adults. They don’t have to go to college.”

“You are pathetic,” Kenji said, shaking his head. “I wish I had my knives. My
dull
knives.”

“I never liked you,” Marty said to Derek. “In all those years, we only tolerated you because we loved Little Hope and we worried about how you dragged her all over. We thought if you were taking her into card rooms when she should have been home in bed, we should be there, too. At least, that way we knew nothing really terrible would happen to her. But you were a pathetic excuse for a father.”

“Marty!” Derek said, wounded.

“
Here’s how I figure it
,” Tanner said, getting their attention back. “If Suzanne had gone to court, she’d have been entitled to a share of your earnings. The child support you never paid, that would have been about one-fifty, two hundred G’s. Based on your earnings. Maybe more, now that I see this house.”

“Never!” said Derek.

“The alimony you never paid for seventeen years, that would have been about six hundred thousand,” Tanner said.

Derek sounded strangled.

Tanner grinned, a feral grin. “Should have stayed married, huh? The health insurance the court would have ordered for your kids and Suzanne over the years, about one-fifty, two hundred more. That takes me to just under a million. Add in a few trips to Disneyland, a couple of prom dresses, some college expenses, and what-have-you, and I make it something over a million.”

“Sounds about right,” Jack said, nodding.

“Plus the alimony you’re
still
not paying Suzanne,” Tanner said. “And, worst of all, the winnings you stole from Hope when she was a minor and still trying to earn your affection, you miserable creep.”

“He did
that?
” Marty asked. “I never knew that.”

“He did,” Tanner said. “I’d like to know how much it was.”

“I have a pretty good idea.” Marty settled back, his eyes hooded. He looked at Derek like he was a dead, smelly thing he’d found in a sewer. “It’s a good thing I didn’t know that then,” he said.

“It’s not too late to do something about it now,” Kenji said, sounding hopeful.

“Add it all up, you owe them big time,” Tanner said, turning back to Derek. “And that’s why you’ll be transferring the ranch to Suzanne for a dollar.”

“No,” Derek said.

“Yes,” Tanner said. “And here’s the part you’ll never get. They are a terrific family. Suzanne has worked her butt off at a diner all this time to make ends meet. Hope got an MBA with no help from anybody, and now she’s a chief financial officer at a software company.”

Kenji nodded. “Faith has her own business. She grows organic vegetables. Beautiful produce. And your granddaughter. Little Amber—”

“I have a granddaughter?” Derek asked.

Kenji frowned. “How could you not know you have a granddaughter? She’s
eleven
. You haven’t even talked to them in eleven years? Amber likes to cook. She and I are writing a cookbook together.”

“And you
dumped
them,” Tanner said, feeling his anger start to boil over. “You ran out on them. And for what? They weren’t
good enough
for you?”

“It wasn’t like that—” Derek said.

“It was
exactly
like that,” Tanner said. “Jack, give him the papers.”

“Sign here,” Jack said, pushing the papers and a pen across the coffee table.

“You don’t understand!” Derek said, his voice rising. “I
can’t
!”

“You can, and you will,” Tanner said, fury making his voice cold.

“No. I mean it. I really can’t.” Derek dropped his head into his hands. “I’m broke,” he said, his voice muffled.

Tanner rolled his eyes. “Oh, right, I’m seeing that,” he said. “
Shut up and sign the papers.
”

“It’s true,” Derek said, his head still bowed. “I’m washed up. Penniless. The ranch is all I’ve got. Julie Saladino’s buyer is still interested. I’m selling it to him.”

“No, you’re not,” Tanner said, clenching his fists. “You’re selling it to
Suzanne
. You don’t seem to understand your situation here, Derek. We’re here to make sure you do sign these papers. Using whatever means we have to.”

Derek lifted his head and looked at Tanner’s face. He swallowed.

“Look. I got no income,” Derek said, looking at them with eyes full of helplessness. “I—I can’t play cards any more.”

“What do you mean?” Marty asked. “You in a twelve-step program or something?”

“No,” Derek said. He sat silent.

“
Talk
,” Tanner snarled.

Derek exhaled. “Well. I’d been doing good. When I was on my own. Got lucky enough to buy this house, some other stuff.”

Tanner grabbed the front of Derek’s shirt, yanking him out of the chair. “You think leaving your kids was
lucky?
You won a lot of money but gave them
nothing?
Because it was
lucky?
”

Marty stood up and put his hand on Tanner’s arm. “Let him say what he has to say.”

Tanner let go of Derek’s shirt. Derek bounced back down into the chair, looking relieved.

“So I was doing okay, and then, after a while, I wasn’t. Had a spell of bad cards. And I…”

“
What?
” Tanner barked.

“I made a deal. At the casino. With a dealer,” Derek said.

Tanner shook his head with contempt.

“You are an idiot,” he said. “You conspired with a card room employee to rip off the casino?”

Derek looked embarrassed. “Something like that,” he said.

“He dealt you high cards and when you won, you gave him a kickback?”

“Something like that,” Derek said again.

“So the casino found out, the employee was fired, and you’re banned from the casinos for life,” Marty said.

Derek looked at the floor.

Tanner scowled at the washed-up gambler. Hope—the whole family—was better off without this loser.

“That doesn’t change anything,” he said. “Suzanne still gets the ranch. You weren’t charged with a crime. You can get a job and earn money that way. Millions of people do it.”

“I don’t know anything but cards!” Derek protested.

“Actually, Derek, you don’t know cards all that well, either,” Marty said.