Cole in My Stocking (23 page)

I blinked. Dad had never wanted me to know about this money. I’d never wanted him to know about my assault. Neither of us had gotten our wish. I was glad he wasn’t here to experience the disappointment and to see what had become of his house, his cherished collectibles.

Which had been in the safe along with this money.

Oh. It all came together.

“But it did touch me,” I said. “The fire.” Cole had told me the fire was probably to cover the tracks of whoever broke into the safe. “This is what they were after, isn’t it?”

“Smart girl.” He rubbed his hand up and down my arm.

“When did you get it out? Before I got into town?”

He shook his head. “Remember Saturday, when we planned your dad’s funeral? You took a phone call in your room.”

I felt my eyes widen. “You snuck it out while I was in my room?”

His ears turned red. “I hated doing it behind your back. Wouldn’t have done that if your dad hadn’t asked. Forgive me?”

My brain had to reprocess that morning of funeral planning. I’d never suspected Cole might have been up to anything behind my back. It felt strange. A little bad.

“Is that why you came by the morning after I got back in town?” I asked, a heavy hurt welling in my chest. I’d thought he’d wanted to extend his friendship and support, but all that time, he’d been waiting for an opportunity to get the money out of Dad’s safe. “And the funeral planning session? It was all about the stupid money?”

“No,” he quickly denied. “I mean, yes and no.” He shook his head, agitated. “The morning after you got back, yes. Your dad gave me that combination, and I figured it was to the safe up in the shop. I told you I was checking to make sure no one had broken in, and I did check for that. But I was looking for this too.” He stabbed the bag with his toe. “But the combination didn’t work. I didn’t know Grip kept a safe in the house. I saw it the first time on Saturday,
after
I came over to help you with the funeral stuff. I wanted to do that. Wanted to spend time with you. Yeah, I still needed to figure out where the money was, but I wasn’t going to work on that problem until after the funeral. Then you opened the safe to get Grip’s military records and there was the bag, up high on a shelf. You never even looked at it, so I didn’t think you’d miss it. I was going to tell you once the funeral was well behind us.”

His sincere tone pacified my hurt, but knowing he’d been duplicitous that first morning irked me, even if he had good reason. I took a step away from him, needing space, needing to think.

The doorbell rang.

“That’ll be Glenmore,” Cole said. He closed and locked the safe. “I thought you might be upset about the money because it should technically belong to you. With the will out of the picture, everything your dad had goes to you. That thought never even crossed your mind, did it? That you might want the money.”

Stunned, I shook my head. It hadn’t. Dad might have earned it, but he’d thought of it as dirty money. He hadn’t wanted me to have anything to do with it and hadn’t spent a dime. That made me proud of him. How many people would have been able to resist spending that money?

He held out his hand. “Come on. Let’s tell the chief about this. It might shed light on the arson.”

I took Cole’s hand. As we left the basement together, Cole’s choice of words sank in.
“With the will out of the picture...”
That made it sound as if Cole knew there had been a will, just like Tooley had insisted.

Cole left me in the kitchen to go answer the door. I heard him exchanging greetings with Glenmore, but I wasn’t listening. I was remembering what Max had said after everyone had left Dad’s shop and it was just me and him.
I think we both know there’s no reason to mention Officer Plankitt was up here yesterday.

I gasped. Could Cole have destroyed Dad’s will?

He strode into the kitchen with Glenmore behind him and headed for the coffee pot.

He had essentially lied to me the morning he’d gone up to check the security of Dad’s shop. He’d been looking for that money. What if he’d been looking for the will too? What if he’d destroyed it to get back at Tooley for being fired?

My heart raced as I considered the possibility. An hour ago, I never would have entertained the thought. In fact, when Max had suggested we keep Cole’s presence in Dad’s shop to ourselves, I’d thought nothing of it. Of course Cole hadn’t tampered with Dad’s will. He’d been doing me a favor, looking out for my safety and the safety of Dad’s business. But he hadn’t. Not really.

Cole put a mug in front of me. “You like milk or sugar?” he asked.

I couldn’t bring myself to meet his gaze. I did like milk and sugar, but I didn’t want anything from him at the moment. I didn’t want his coffee. I didn’t want to be in his house. I felt betrayed.

“Mandy?” he asked. I heard the concern in his voice.

I shook my head, still not looking at him.

“Babe? What’s going on?”

I stared at the breakfast bar and felt my eyes well with tears.

“Shit.” He glanced at Glenmore. “Can I meet you in the living room in a minute?”

I heard the chief’s footsteps retreat back the way they’d come.

Cole rested a hand on my shoulder.

I shrugged it off and nudged the coffee away.

He bent his head to meet my eyes.

Tears slipped down my cheeks. “It was you,” I said. “You destroyed Dad’s will.”

Cole hissed in a breath. He glanced over my shoulder, the way Chief Glenmore had gone. “Jesus, honey. You’re too smart for your own good.”

Anger stopped my tears. He’d as good as confessed it. How dare he? Not only had he betrayed me, but he’d also betrayed Dad by destroying the last record of his wishes.

“How could you?” I kept my voice to a whisper, mindful of the chief of police in the next room and of the fact that tampering with a will was very, very illegal. But I didn’t bother disguising my rage. “You had no right. Since the minute I got back in town you’ve been going behind my back and doing things without my knowledge. Dad’s funeral. Getting that money out of the safe. God, Cole, you’ve been lying to me the whole time I’ve been back.”

The emotions that passed over his face surprised me. Shock. Fear. Dread. There and gone. His features went hard as stone, hiding whatever was going on inside.

“Never meant to hurt you,” he said. “Or mislead you.” His hands opened and closed at his sides, like he wanted to reach for me but was holding himself back. “We’re going to talk about this, but I’ve got
Chief
Glenmore in there, and he needs to hear about that money so he can work on finding your arsonist. Hopefully find your dad’s guns, yeah?”

He’d stressed
chief
, as if I’d expose him for his crime without hearing his side. I was incensed, but I wasn’t about to get him in trouble, not without hearing him out first. Maybe we could salvage this situation. If Dad had truly wanted Tooley to get the gun business, maybe we could figure out how to make that happen without a signed will.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to say anything.” I cut my eyes toward the living room. “Go on. Tell him about the money.”

“You don’t want to come?”

I shook my head and slipped my phone from my purse. I pulled up my app for cab services.

“What are you doing? Who are you calling?”

“I’m not staying here. I’m calling a cab. I’ll find a motel for the night.” Plaistow had plenty of amenities, but I couldn’t remember seeing any motels along the main strip. I would call a cab first then do a search for rooms to rent. I might have to go as far as Haverhill across the Mass border, or Exeter if I went north instead of south. I’d figure it out, but I couldn’t do it with Cole breathing down my neck.

“Jesus. Stop. Just stop.” He put a hand over my phone.

I yanked it away. “No,
you
stop. I need space, Cole.” I was breathing heavily. I felt panic rising. If he pressed, I worried I might scream. Even in my upset state, I recognized that would be over-the-top. Cole wouldn’t hurt me. Not physically, anyway. Unfortunately, he had the power to hurt me in other ways, ways I could have protected myself from if I’d kept him at a distance like a smart person.

Cole held his hands up, non-threatening. His eyes looked as panicked as I felt. “Please. Don’t go. I can explain about the will. Please give me that chance.”

I shook my head, backing away from him. I liked him. Probably more than liked him. But he’d let me down and abused my trust. I had to get away, needed time to think. “I can’t. I have to go.” I took my phone and purse and headed for the front door. When I made it into the living room, I nodded at Chief Glenmore.

He fixed alert eyes on me. How much had he heard? I’d raised my voice at the end there. Crap. Glenmore probably thought I was out of my mind.

“I’m sorry,” I told him. “I can’t stay. But if you have a pen, I’ll jot down my number so you can get in touch with me. And of course, I’ll stop by the station tomorrow.”

I felt Cole come in close behind me. The hairs on the back of my neck rose, and it wasn’t with fear or panic. My body liked having him nearby. If anything, his presence soothed me. I was confused. I needed time to sort out how I felt.

“I’ll give him your info,” Cole said behind me.

I didn’t turn to face him.

A pair of keys appeared over my shoulder, dangling from a large, pale finger. “Don’t call a cab. Take my truck. Call me when you settle in someplace. I want to know you’re okay.”

I turned around to find his face as intense as ever, but his eyes were sad. Vulnerable.
Ouch.
Seeing him like this hurt worse than realizing he’d lied to me about Dad’s will. I bit back an urge to apologize for my mini-rant in the kitchen.

“Take them,” he said, pressing the keys into my hand. “Hold on a sec, okay?”

I pulled on my coat while he jogged up the stairs. A minute later he returned with a laptop and charger. “This might come in handy. Use it if you need to check email or buy stuff online or whatever. Tomorrow we’ll go shopping to replace whatever you need, okay? Don’t worry about money. Your dad had insurance. It might take a while, but we’ll sort all this out. Just, God, please be safe tonight.”

I took the laptop, feeling awkward about leaving when he was being so kind. Was I overreacting? The pain shining in his eyes was killing me.

I mumbled an inadequate thank you, nodded to Glenmore, and booked it out of there. As I crossed the driveway, the garage door went up of its own accord. Cole must have opened it from inside the house.

Every step I took away from him ratcheted up the tension in my chest. But I didn’t stop. I didn’t stop until I pulled his truck into the parking lot of a Motel 6 off Route 125 in Haverhill. Sitting behind the wheel in a king cab that smelled like ocean breeze and Cole, I doubled forward with my arms pressed across my stomach and cried. And cried and cried.

Chapter 17

Cole’s watch said it was 12:04. He stood on his porch in his socks and watched Glenmore make a three-point turn with his cruiser and drive away. The chief trusted Cole to hang onto the money and get it to where it needed to go. In the meantime, he’d taken a picture of the cash and duffel bag on his phone and written up a report of all Cole had told him. Said he was going to call Stacey and find out who her contact was on the Mass state patrol so he could get intel on the MC and share intel with them about the fire at Gripper’s, the theft, and the money. This situation was all kinds of fucked up, but Cole didn’t care about any of that.

All he cared about was that Mandy had left over an hour ago and hadn’t called. Had she found a safe place to stay? How was she coping with the fire? Was she still pissed at him for destroying Gripper’s will?

Jesus. The girl was smart. Intuitive. She would have made a damn good cop with that head of hers, drawing conclusions, making connections, calling out BS when she perceived it.

Only he hadn’t been trying to pull BS on her. It had never been his intention to hurt her or hide things from her to serve his own purposes. Everything he’d kept from her had been out of loyalty to Gripper or to protect her.

He leaned his forearms on the railing and looked across the driveway at the garage. His breath fogged in front of him as he remembered the cruel words some shithead had left for her to find, turning a heinous crime into a personal attack. She shouldn’t be off somewhere tonight, dealing with that alone.

She should be here. With him.

Fuck, it was cold out. Had to be below freezing tonight. Might see some snow before morning. Hopefully Mandy hadn’t come across any black ice. At least he had good snow tires on the truck. She’d be safer in his Ram than that old Blazer of hers with those bald tires.

He should go inside. But he didn’t want to. For a few minutes, his lonely house had felt like a real home. With Mandy gone, it was back to being just a house, a shell waiting for life to fill it up.

Maybe he’d been wrong to dole out his confessions bit by bit. Maybe he should have told her everything from the get-go, but wouldn’t that have overwhelmed her? She’d only been back in town a week. They’d only been a couple for a frigging day. He’d told her as much as he’d felt comfortable with in the time they’d had, and even that had been pushing it. This wasn’t just catching someone up on hometown news they’d missed out on. This was deeply personal, life-altering stuff. Gut-wrenching stuff.

It would have been so much easier if Gripper had stayed in touch with her, talked with her about the assault, the MC, the money, the will, everything. Cole understood why he hadn’t. It had ultimately been for Mandy’s safety, but he couldn’t help wondering if there had been a little cowardice mixed up in there too. Grip must have blamed himself for what happened to Mandy. Cole would have, in his situation. An impossible situation. But Cole wouldn’t have left the person he loved most in the world alone to deal with all that had happened to her.

Except he’d done just that, hadn’t he? He’d loved Mandy even then, yet he’d ignored his gut when it warned him she’d been violated. She’d left town, and he’d never once tried to track her down or call her and see how she was doing. He’d never reached out to Gripper to ask after her. Worrying about pissing Gripper off and fearing his attraction to a girl so much younger than him weren’t good enough excuses for abandoning her like that.