Dare to Dream: The Maxwell Series (12 page)

“And what is that?” I asked. Pitt was right again.

“A red ledger book,” Mr. Robinson replied. He pivoted, finding a glass and filling it with water.

“And why would you have a red ledger book that belongs to a mob guy?” Lacey mashed her glossy lips together.

“Because I suspect he’s my father, and he thinks my mother gave me the book.”

I was in the middle of a soap opera. I needed a storyboard to map all this shit out. The man was connected to two mob families. No wonder he looked like shit.

“
I
don’t understand
,” I said, staring at my dad like I didn’t even know him all of a sudden. My eyebrows had to be deep into my hairline or maybe on the back of my head. “You always said your mom and dad were dead.” He never liked to talk about his parents, and if someone asked him, he’d change the subject.

I recalled when Julie had pressured Dad on the subject about two years ago. We had been riding to church one day when it was unusually rainy for southern California, and Julie asked him how his parents had died. It was an innocent question, but to Dad the question was like the Bubonic Plague—to be avoided at all costs. I’d been sitting behind Mom, so I had a clear view of Dad while he drove. His knuckles grew white on the steering wheel.

He’d taken a breath then speaking. “You will never ask me about my parents again. They’re dead.” The word
dead
was spoken with hurt and disgust, and I couldn’t tell why he felt such a mix of emotions over his parents. Later on, when Mom and I were alone, I asked her why Dad had gotten so angry. She told me Dad had a rough childhood and when he was ready he’d talk. He never did. I wasn’t surprised either. Dad clammed up tight when something bothered him.

Several things in our lives were hard to deal with. I knew that better than anyone, especially when we were talking about two precious lives. I stared at my dad as the picture in my hand floated to the floor. “Are you going to answer me?” My voice trembled. The buzzing in my head began. I inched toward the island just as Kade came around with a barstool and helped me onto it.

Kross carried another barstool over to Dad. “Sit, Mr. Robinson.”

Dad straddled the seat and scrubbed his hands over his face, drawing them down slowly. “Two months before your mom and sister were killed, I got a package in the mail from my adoptive sister, Gloria. In it was a letter and a book of nursery rhymes.”

Oh, my God. “Sister? When were you adopted?”

Dad scratched his head. “The short story for now. I was adopted when I was a baby. I never knew my biological parents. My adoptive mom had only known my birth mother briefly from church, but they became fast friends. My birth mother vanished soon after I was born. They searched for her but never found her.”

“Are your adoptive parents alive?” I pressed my hands into my legs.

“According to Gloria’s letter to me, no. And she also mentioned that my birth mother isn’t either. She’d tracked down Gloria just before she died of cancer and asked that she give me the letter and the book of nursery rhymes.” He snatched his wallet from his jeans pocket, removed a folded-up piece of paper, opened it, and read.

Dear James, I struggled with my decision to give you up for adoption. In my mind, I had no choice. I had to make sure no one would ever find out that you came into this world and that I was your mother. I wasn’t a good person. I had a hard life. I wasn’t proud of some of the things I’d done or the choices I’d made. I prayed every day that the decision I made was the right one. I wanted you to have a good life, one where children thrived on good and not evil. I didn’t write this letter to ask for your forgiveness. I wrote it to say that I love you. The book of nursery rhymes is something I cherished as a child. I loved reading “Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush” at night while I was pregnant with you. Maybe one day you can read them to your children. You’ll always be in my heart. With all my love.

Dad sighed, and water pooled in his eyes.

A pain clamped down on my heart at the thought that he never knew his biological mom, and now she was dead. I placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Dad. I would’ve loved to have met your mom, and your adoptive parents.”

“I wished I would’ve known my mom.” He folded the letter. “You wouldn’t have wanted to know my adoptive parents. They’ve been dead to me for a long time.” He pinched his lips with his fingers.

Kade gently laid his strong hands on my shoulders and began tracing circles. I reveled in his strength, something I needed at the moment. Kross relaxed casually against the counter, his face blank.

The soft buzzing in my head began to drone. “So your mom gave you a letter and a book. I’m still confused,” I said. “Is the nursery rhyme book the ledger?”

“The book is all nursery rhymes, and it’s not red,” Dad said. “Now, your mom encouraged me to find out more about my parents. She kept telling me that I had to come to terms with my past. Since my adoptive parents didn’t have much to go on regarding my mother, I hired a detective. He uncovered that my mother had been a mistress to a man who was head of a mob family. A month after we learned of it, your mom and sister were dead.”

I sucked in a sharp breath as acid swished around in my stomach.

“Afterwards, I canceled the search on my biological family. I focused on moving here and getting our lives back to normal. I didn’t think to connect my search for my mom with what happened to our family. If you recall, we thought it was a random break-in.”

“And the mob boss your mom slept with was Lorenzino?” Kade asked.

Dad gave Kade a nod.

“Did he kill Mom and Julie?” I tucked my trembling hands between my thighs as I pictured Mom’s and Julie’s dead bodies. I wanted to bury myself in a dirt hole like a gopher and not come out until all this was over with.

Kade bent down, his lips at my ear. “Breathe, baby. I’m here.”

I kept inhaling and exhaling softly, helping the buzzing in my head to quiet down.

“Possibly.” Dad unfolded his bulk to get himself another glass of water.

“So you’ve talked to this man?” Kross slid down away from Dad. “Did he give you any clues as to where he thinks this ledger might be? Granted, if he knew, I’m sure you wouldn’t be in this predicament, but if he’s your father, maybe you can appeal to him. Get him to tell you more about your mom.”

The Maxwells were all about family. Their bond was based on love, protection, and having each other’s back. My dad didn’t have any of that with Lorenzino. If Lorenzino was the killer, the man didn’t have a heart.

Dad downed the clear liquid. “I’ve talked to him, only because he called me a couple of weeks ago and asked if I’d found the book. It was the first time I’d ever spoken to him. He told me he’d mistakenly left the ledger at my mom’s apartment. Then she disappeared off the face of the earth. I told him that it’s hard to produce something you don’t have. His response was that the woman was cunning.” Deep lines creased his forehead, and sadness swam in his green eyes.

“Is Rob in danger?” Everyone kept thinking about me, but my brother was the one in LA, where that man lived. “Does he know all of this, too?”

“Rob can handle himself,” Dad said with surety. “And he knows as much as I do. I had to keep him in the loop.”

Thank God. I wished Dad had told me when he’d found out all this information. I knew he walked on eggshells around me with my PTSD, school, and baseball, and while I appreciated his protective nature, to learn all the information at once was a little daunting.

“So, that’s it?” Kade asked. “The man can’t be okay with
I don’t have it
, especially if it’s something he’s still searching for? No offense, Mr. Robinson. In my opinion, the man isn’t going to stop until he gets the ledger. And why now?”

“Before we ended the call, he said, ‘I’ve given you enough time to mourn. Find that book. We’ll be in touch.’ Then he hung up.”

I hopped off the stool, picked up the picture, and placed it on the counter. “When I saw this picture, my first thought was that he looks familiar. Now that I’m looking at him again, I see the resemblance. It’s the nose. He has the same nose as you.”

“It doesn’t matter if he’s my father or not. I don’t want anything to do with him. I don’t even want to know if he is my biological father.” Dad set his glass on the granite surface.

I didn’t want anything to do with Lorenzino either.

“So you shared all this with Detective Fisher?” Kade sat down on my barstool then drew me to him to stand between his legs at angle where he could still see Dad.

“When Lacey, Rob, and I were at the LAPD, I didn’t want to say anything for fear of Lacey’s safety. However, after you called,” Dad said to Kade, “I called the detective before I got on the plane and explained everything. We need all the help we can get. He’s still working on the lead regarding Dennis Weeks. He knows Lorenzino won’t talk. Despite that, he’ll follow through. As far as the break-in, the detective speculates Lorenzino probably knew we were in LA, so he had one of his men check out the house. He’ll keep us up-to-date. We need to be alert.”

“Is Mary coming back?” I asked. I was worried she’d be in danger, too. She’d been on a mini vacation with her new boyfriend, Mr. Wiley.

“Mary will be staying in LA. Her mom had to have emergency hip replacement surgery,” Dad said.

“I asked my father this morning, and Lacey can stay with us,” Kade said. “Since you work at the club at night.” Kade hooked a finger around one of mine.

It wasn’t a bad idea. The notion of staying alone in my house after the break-in wasn’t high on my list right now. Granted, I had to get over my fears, especially my fear of darkness, but taking the plunge and sleeping in the house alone—I wasn’t prepared to do that.

Dad narrowed his tired, red eyes.

“Mr. Robinson, we’re adults. But I get it. Separate beds is not an issue. I slept on the couch last night,” Kade said. “And my best friend’s brother, Wes, manages the Guardian. I’ve asked him if he could have a couple of men shadow Lacey.”

“You asked Pitt for help?” I asked. Kade didn’t like the man.

“His men are trained to protect,” Kade said.

“I know how to use a gun. And I have you guys.” I stuck out my chin. If the rumors that Pitt was the mob were true, then I didn’t want Kade to get caught up with him.

“Kade’s right. Let the men who are trained in this do their job. We have our own jobs and lives. I’d like to get some rest, clean up this mess, and talk to the local police to make them aware. And you kids have school.”

“The school day’s half over. Why don’t we help clean up?” Kade suggested. “Kross, can you run and get us lunch? Baby, can you go with Kross? I’d like a few minutes alone with your dad.”

I swung my gaze between them, not certain what Kade could want to talk to Dad about, unless it was the sleeping arrangements. “Are you going to ask him for my hand in marriage?” I asked in a somewhat playful tone, trying to lighten the mood and hoping to think of something other than the mess we were in.

“Say what?” Dad’s face reddened.

Kross chuckled.

“Maybe.” Kade slid on one of his famous sexy grins.

“Go easy on him, Dad.” I hugged him. “I love you. We’ll get through this.” We had to. I didn’t want to live not knowing who the killer was or that he’d never pay for what he’d done. Somehow, I had to dig deep for strength to keep my PTSD at bay. More importantly, I had to do everything I could to help. Right now, fresh air sounded good. “Come on, Kross.”

Kross slapped Kade on the shoulder. “Good luck, bro. I’ll be sure to place lots of flowers on your grave.”

“Oh, Dad.” I said. “Where’s that nursery rhyme book? I’d love to see it.” Dad had always read nursery rhymes to me when I was a little girl.

Kade lifted his eyebrows.

I rolled my eyes. The guy had loved
Humpty Dumpty
when I recited it to him in the airport. I was beginning to think I’d opened up a can of worms.

W
hen Lacey
and Kross left to get lunch, Mr. Robinson and I shared a very long quiet moment with the hum of the fridge compressor. He had one arm crossed over his chest and the other resting on top of it while he stroked his unshaven jaw. It would be funny if he were thinking about his answer to my marriage proposal.

I strolled into the breakfast nook, pulled out a chair, and straddled the back of it. I stretched out my arms over the back and picked at a fingernail. I was the one who wanted to talk, but I just didn’t know where to begin. It would be
easier
to ask for her hand in marriage.

“Have you thought about seeing Lacey walk down the aisle?” I briefly closed my eyes. I could picture how beautiful she’d be in a snug-fitting dress with a slit up one side.

He cleared his throat as he joined me. “That’s what you wanted to talk to me about? And here I thought you two were kidding.”

I had to break the ice somehow.

“You love her that much?” he asked.

I met his green gaze. “Yeah. But we’re not ready for that step just yet.” Lacey and I hadn’t even talked about the future. It unnerved me a little. The thought of being apart from her was unsettling. I wasn’t planning on college. I was hoping to stick around my house and spend more time visiting my mom and giving my father a hand with taking care of the house and our property.

“Are you planning to go to college?” He studied me intently.

I wasn’t here to discuss my future per se, and I didn’t have much time before Kross and Lacey returned. But I also didn’t want to brush him off. We’d really never had a chance to get to know one another. “At this time, no.”

“When Lacey goes to ASU, how will that work for you and your relationship with her?”

“I haven’t thought that through. Rest assured that I would never think of stopping Lacey from pursuing her dream. I promise you that.”

“Then what’s on your mind?” he asked in a fatherly tone.

“Jeremy Pitt. I know your adoptive sister is Pitt’s wife, and no, Lacey doesn’t know. You know she’s going to ask you more about your adoptive family. I’d like to ask that you tell her as soon as you can.”

“You know Pitt how?” His nostrils flared.

I explained the relationship between Hunt and me and Wes. Then I said, “Wes works for Pitt. Pitt is worried Lorenzino will find out who your adoptive family is and that it could put his family in jeopardy. Pitt wanted me to encourage you to take his help. He said you wouldn’t listen to them.”

“I never blamed my sister for my father’s abusive nature. But it’s still hard for me to connect with her, even though he’s passed away. But what’s Pitt going to do for me?”

“Work as a team. Tell him what you told us.” I cracked my knuckles.

“If I do, he could make waves and piss off Lorenzino. I can’t take that chance. And if I tell him I could be related to a mob family, possibly a rival of his, where does that leave Lacey and me? How will he react?”

Fuck. I hadn’t thought of that angle. Then again, I’d had a better shot at winning the lottery than concluding he’d be related to two mob families. I rubbed my neck. A headache was just waiting to bloom.

“The devil you know or the one you don’t,” I said. “The way I see it, you have a better shot at your adoptive family siding with you than a family you never knew. I don’t know Pitt that well, although the couple of times I’ve spoken to him, he seemed like an understanding businessman. Apart from his arrogance, he’s a man who believes family is sacred, even adoptive families.”

I was way too young to be counseling grown men. I should be getting laid, throwing parties, hanging out with Hunt and my brothers, and taking Lacey on dates. Instead, I was sitting with a man who was just as broken as his daughter, giving advice. Maybe I was headed for a career like my father’s.

He released a heavy breath. “I’m not sure the devil I know is any better than the one I don’t. And I don’t want my daughter to know some of the things I’ve done. Like my birth mother, I wasn’t a good person. And how can I tell Lacey I’m related to two mob families?”

Not my problem.
I cleared my throat. “With all due respect, you’re putting me in the middle. This is not my story to tell. I’ve screwed up a couple of times with Lacey by not telling her something or lying to her. I promised her just yesterday I wouldn’t do it again. I want to respect your wishes, but she comes first with me.”

He pressed his fingertips to his forehead.

“Look at it this way,” I said. “She could be the conduit to help build that relationship with your sister. You know when you tell her that she’ll want to meet her and her cousin. This could be a win-win for both of you.” I could envision more win-win situations, like Lacey hanging with Chloe at Pitt’s place. I’d bet he had a Fort Knox set-up. I scrapped the thought. She had baseball, and the game schedule was brutal with three or four games per week once the season started.

He lifted his head. “I need to think.”

Friday was my day with Chloe. I hated to give him a deadline. I understood the man was wiped out. Today was Tuesday, and I should factor in a cushion. “Please talk to her by Thursday.”

“What’s the urgency? There’s something you’re not telling me, son.”

Now I was the one to press my fingers to my temples. “Pitt’s daughter needs a tutor, and I’m the guy. Friday is my day with her. I would like to tell Lacey what I’m doing. If I do tell her about my new job, she’ll have a thousand questions. And as I said, I can’t lie to her.”

“Tell her about your job. She doesn’t need to know the girl is Pitt’s daughter.”

“Mr. Robinson.” My voice dropped. “Lacey is going to be upset I’ve known about this for days now and haven’t told her. I haven’t lied to her, but I’m going down a road that is about to explode at the end. For you that may be okay. It’s not for me.” I had an urge to jump across the small distance between us and shake the cobwebs out of his brain.

His gaze roamed around the room. “I’ll see what I can do.”

I couldn’t force him. “I prefer her to hear from you. But I’ll tell her if you don’t. Besides, she’ll deal.” Earlier, I was the one worried about telling her about Lorenzino. I was surprised at how well she handled the news. “She didn’t go off the deep end when you told us about Lorenzino. She’s delicately strong. I know that’s a weird way to describe her. But if you peel back her outer layer, you’ll find layers of compassion, understanding, and tenderness that allow her to see past the bad in people. While her PTSD has hurt her psyche, I believe as she works her way out of it, the illness is shaping her into a greater and stronger person. Lacey’s my hero.”

“I am?” Lacey asked.

Oh fuck.
Where the hell did she come from? I didn’t hear a door close or anything.

Mr. Robinson and I whipped our heads around to find Lacey standing like a zombie with an armful of brown paper bags and the aroma of grease permeating the air around her.

“How long have you been standing there?” The blood rushed out of me.

“Long enough to know I’m your hero.”

A door slammed before Kross showed his ugly mug. “You left the door open, Lacey.” He had more paper bags in his hands. “Um. Did I miss something?”

A tear slid down Lacey’s cheek as her bottom lip quivered. I jumped out of the chair. Her father did too. He took the bags from her.

“No need to cry.” I wiped a tear away with the pad of my thumb. “I hope those are happy tears.” I could use some happy tears.

She blinked and gave me one of her heart-melting smiles.

I pinched her chin lightly as I guided it up, then I placed my lips over hers. “I meant it,” I whispered. My pulse was on overdrive as I searched her face for clues as to how much she did hear.

“Let’s eat,” Kross said.

I flicked a quick glance at her father. He barely shook his head. I didn’t know if he was signaling that she didn’t hear our whole conversation or not. Lacey did wear her heart on her sleeve. So if she’d heard anything more than my last sentence, she’d be questioning and demanding answers. I tabled my panic as we dug into the hamburger and fries.

Kross devoured his pile of food. Mr. Robinson took a bite out of his hamburger and went down to his office.

“So, what else did you hear?” I nudged Lacey playfully with my shoulder. I was sweating bullets.

“‘Lacey’s my hero.’” She nudged me back.

“You said that, bro?” Kross stopped with a fry midway to his mouth.

I glared at him. “You got a problem with that?”

He shoved the fry in his mouth. “Nope. I know I was supposed to help clean up, but this is getting too mushy for my tastes. If you kids don’t need me, I’m out of here.” Kross wiped his face with a napkin.

“Go,” I said. I’d mainly wanted his muscle in the event the shit hit the fan with Mr. Robinson.

The only shit that would blow up now would be if Mr. Robinson didn’t meet the deadline.