Dead for the Money (27 page)

“—a huge head start,” Scarlet was saying.

Bud’s lips tightened. Seamus was considering a jump when she said, “—we might catch them.”

“We?” Bud sounded surprised. Seamus was stricken. He was going for a boat ride, no matter what.

“You know it’s dangerous to do this alone. You’re recovering from a head injury, and I’ll bet you got almost no sleep last night.” She looked at him, ready to meet whatever argument he posed. “You know I can handle a boat.” Sensing his indecision, she added, “We’re going to locate them, call the Coast Guard, and report where they are, right? There’s no danger involved.”

Bud considered it, and then nodded. “All right. I could use the help, and Briggs is no sailor.”

“You’re the boss,” Scarlet promised. “I’ll be like a ghost, hovering nearby and following orders.”

Bud nodded, convinced. “Let’s get ready to go.”

“Wait,” Scarlet said, taking his arm. “We need to see the end of the video Mr. Dunbar made.”

Bud made an impatient gesture. “Why? He said it was about Brodie’s past.”

“We need to know everything we can about this. If Leland is Brodie’s father, and if she did go willingly, we might not have any legal right to stop them.”

Bud raised his eyebrows at her. “But you were sure Brodie wouldn’t have done that.”

Scarlet’s lower lip set firmly against the upper one. “There’s no telling what that man has told her. It’s best we learn what we can. Between the story Leland might have told and what’s on that video, I would definitely lean toward your grandfather’s version.”

“Good point. I’ll ask Briggs to get the boat ready. Pack a few things and we’ll watch the rest of what Gramps had to say before we take off.”

In only a few minutes, they were again in Scarlet’s room. She had put some things in a gym bag, and Bud set one very like it on the floor beside hers with a soft thud. “Ready?” she asked. When he nodded, she pressed some buttons on the remote.

William Dunbar appeared for a third time on the screen. The video was grainier than the earlier segments had been, and Dunbar was dressed differently. He was not alone.

“That’s our lawyer at the time, Collin Marks’ father Ben,” Bud told Scarlet.

Across a table from them sat a woman and a man. The man had the same professional demeanor as Marks, and Bud deduced he was a lawyer representing the woman’s interest. She had to be Jeannie, Brodie’s mother. It was possible to see that she had once been attractive, but her looks were ruined by sores on her face, circles under her eyes, and a general aura of decline.

Marks spoke first. “We are here with Ms. Jean Brooks and her attorney to discuss the formal adoption of her daughter Brodie by my client, William Dunbar. Mr. Dunbar asked that the proceedings be videotaped so that all parties are aware of the parameters and there is no confusion about them in the future.” He cleared his throat.

“In other words,” Bud put in, “they didn’t want Ms. Brooks coming back later and claiming they stole her child.”

“Ms. Brooks,” Marks said in a tone devoid of emotion. “Would you please explain what you propose to Mr. Dunbar?”

Jeannie looked at her lawyer, who nodded slightly. “He wants to adopt my kid. It’s okay with me as long as I get something out of it.”

“And what amount have you agreed to?”

“Fifty thousand.” Anger flared briefly, and she said, “That ain’t much for me to give up my kid. I agreed ’cause I know I can’t care for her like I should.” She attempted a pitiful look that didn’t quite form before going on. “And I get the money today, right?”

William Dunbar nodded, his face blank.

“If your nephew wasn’t a crook, I’da been okay.” The woman leaned toward Dunbar accusingly. “He took off and left me without a pot to piss in!”

Dunbar made as if to say something, but Marks silenced him with a gesture. “You understand, Ms. Brooks, that you are giving up custody of your daughter permanently.”

Jeannie did not hesitate. “Yeah. I got it.”

“All right, then. Mr. Winters, will you step out with me and look over the documents before we ask our clients to sign them?”

The two lawyers left the room, which seemed odd to Bud. After a moment, he realized that it was purposeful, at least on Gramps’ part. Jeannie Brooks had apparently forgotten the video camera was there.

“So now you got a pretty little girl to show off to all your rich friends,” she said after a brief silence. “What if I need more money later?”

“There won’t be any more.” Dunbar’s tone was flat and cold.

“Not even if I clean up my act?”

“You had that chance. I won’t offer again.”

“So Brodie grows up rich, and I’m s’pose to get lost!” She seemed jealous of her own child.

“You are the one who threw away your life, young woman. If you don’t sign the papers today, I will work through the court system and get custody of Brodie anyway. It’s only because I never want her to return to that hellhole you live in that I offer this settlement.”

“It ain’t enough.”

Gramps shrugged. “Refuse it. You’ll get nothing when the state takes her away from you.”

“I can’t help it if I’m sick!”

Dunbar seemed genuinely sad as he nodded agreement. “You are sick, but I see no sign that you want to get well. I can’t help you, but I will help Brodie.”

The door opened then, and the two lawyers returned. The camera recorded a final statement by Jeannie’s lawyer warning her that her signature meant she relinquished all rights to the child. With a last squint of anger at Dunbar, Jeannie scrawled her name in the required spaces. The rest of it took only a minute or two: signatures from the others present, the presentation of a check to Jeannie. No one offered to shake hands with her, although the lawyers shook hands with each other and with Gramps while Jeannie stared at the check as if mesmerized.

After the lawyers left, Dunbar remained behind. He seemed torn, and Bud wondered if he might make another offer of help. If that was his inclination, Jeannie ruined it.

“I shoulda got more money,” she cried, tucking the check into the pocket of her jeans. “She’s my kid! Mine and your nephew’s!”

“Actually, Brodie is not Leland’s child,” Gramps said calmly.

Jeannie’s face revealed anger rather than surprise. “You don’t know that.”

“I had DNA tests run. Brodie is unrelated to him.” He leaned toward her, resting his fists on the polished surface of the table. “You were seeing another man at the time of Brodie’s conception, only days after Leland left the country.”

Jean made a dismissive gesture. “Just some guy I met at a club.”

“It apparently didn’t take him long to discover that you were addicted to drugs.”

“Jerry was a jerk.” She seemed to like the sound of it. “Jerry the Jerk.”

Dunbar opened a file near his hand, looked briefly at the top sheet, and closed it again. “You know him better than I, of course, but my investigator believes him to be an honest man. He might have done right by you if you’d told him you were expecting.”

“Yeah, right. And spend my life with a guy who installs satellite dishes for a living!”

Dunbar eyed her with distaste. “He has a wife and a child now, with another on the way. From what I’m told, his wife is not the type who would...” He didn’t finish, but his point was obvious to Bud. Good old Jerry was a nice guy who picked the wrong sort of women. “I’ve decided, arbitrarily, I admit, that Brodie is better off with me,” Dunbar said. “I will treat her as a member of the family.” He paused before adding, “Despite your lies.”

Jeannie did not have an answer for that, and for the briefest moment even seemed ashamed. Then she rallied, rising and pulling her selfishness around her like a protective cloak. “Well, you got what you want, and I did too.” Holding her head so high that the chords in her neck stood out, she left the room. Dunbar held the door, followed her out, and the camera saw nothing more.

As the screen went blank, Scarlet turned to Bud, her eyes wide. “Brodie is not related to Mr. Dunbar, but he took her in anyway.”

“That was Gramps,” Bud said, swallowing a lump in his throat. “Quite a guy.”

As they went down the stairs they met Arlis, apparently headed for an appointment. Her silver hair lay in soft waves around her face, and Bud noted, as he often did, her resemblance to her brother. That brought a question to mind.

“Arlis, you told us that Leland takes an interest in the family.”

She was checking the contents of her purse, her lips moving as she cataloged what was there. She snapped it shut, satisfied, and looked at Bud, her face glowing with pride. “He says the world is his family, but a person can’t help but care about the one he was born into, as well.”

“Did he know that I planned to take Gramps up to watch the race?”

Her expression turned questioning, but she answered willingly enough. “Yes, I think we did talk about it once or twice. He knew of William’s interest, and I mentioned last spring that you intended to come home as usual and take him up to the viewing point to watch the boats pass.”

“What did he say to that?”

Arlis took a step back, as if Bud planned to attack her. “What are all these questions about?”

“Aunt Arlis, it’s very important that you answer me as honestly as you can. I’ll explain everything later, but I need to know what Leland said about Gramps watching the race.”

“Not much, really. He said it was good of you to come home to do that. He asked if I went up with you.” She tittered. “Of course I said that was not my idea of a day’s entertainment. Especially in this heat!” Apparently sensing that Bud was waiting for more, she drummed her fingertips against her lips, trying to remember. “He asked if anyone else went along. I said no, that I thought you two liked the idea of going on your own. Will looked forward to the time with you, and the rest of us knew it.”

“Thank you.”

Arlis hesitated, glanced at Scarlet, and started for the door. Sensing there was something she wanted to say, Bud walked with her. Scarlet hung back, apparently sensing the same thing.

Outside, she stopped and faced him, although she did not meet his eyes, instead looking down at her age-spotted hands. “Bud, my appointment this morning is at Bliss Senior Living.”

Bud was surprised by the news, but Seamus felt an immediate sense of relief as well.

Arlis did not wait for him to respond. “I’ve thought about it, and it seems best for everyone if I move out. I’m sorry I won’t be able to stay and help Miss McMorran with Brodie, but to be honest, I’m too old for teenagers. You have your work in Chicago, and I don’t want to be the one responsible for her.” She bustled slightly, glad to have disposed of an uncomfortable topic. “I have friends at Bliss, and the apartments there are lovely.” She added one more item to her list of reasons. “They have a choir.”

Bud waited, not wanting to appear too eager at her news or so devastated that she reconsidered. “If that’s really what you want, Aunt Arlis, I’ll see that your financial needs are met.”

“Thank you, Bud.” She looked at the driveway surface. “It’s a nice place.” Her gaze returned to him. “And you can always come and visit.”

Bud took his aunt into his arms and planted a kiss on her forehead. “I know you loved your brother. I’m sorry things can’t be as you’d like them to be.”

Arlis’ eyes filled with tears. “I did wish William could have forgiven Leland for the foolishness from before. He’s a different man, now, but William could never see it.”

Bud walked Arlis to her car and helped her inside. The old woman looked pleased at the attention, but he felt like a Judas goat leading a lamb to destruction. Arlis’ answers to his questions convinced him that Gramps had been right to mistrust Leland, who was not only a con man. He was very likely a murderer as well.

S
EAMUS
,
LEARNING
ALONG
WITH
B
UD
where Brodie had come from, had a lot to think about. First, if Leland had killed once, he might kill again. He apparently thought he was Brodie’s father. It was hard to predict what he would do if he knew the truth, especially under extreme pressure.

He paused to ponder the morality of Dunbar’s choice. Had the guy been wrong to buy the child from her drug-impaired mother? Using money to circumvent the law was bad, but the courts would have taken months, perhaps years, to achieve what Brodie badly needed: a permanent, loving home. Maybe money was good in the hands of good people.

Bud’s condition worried Seamus. Not yet fully recovered from his head injury, his thoughts were even slower than usual for the living. Seamus had had to repeat the word
boat
for hours. Bud was on the right path now, although Seamus would have preferred a land route to Mackinac. He would try to be careful not to overload his host’s already aching head.

The client had asked Seamus to determine if he’d been pushed and if so, who had done it. Seamus now had in Leland a suspect with motive, means, and opportunity. He might go back to the ship and report the matter closed, but he could not do that. He wanted to do two things before he went back: help Brodie and achieve justice for William Dunbar.

It might not be possible. Bud might not be able to find Leland’s boat, despite his optimism. It was unlikely that the Coast Guard could do it, either, given the amount of traffic at the straits and Leland’s familiarity with the area. The best option, Seamus decided, was to mobilize a force already in place. With a mental sigh of resignation at having to burden his wounded host with more nagging, he whispered for the first of many times, “Racers.”

W
HEN
C
HER
CAME
UP
ON
DECK
with a sunhat and a romance novel, Brodie decided it was a good time to go below and rest. She wasn’t usually one for naps, but her sleep the night before had been fitful at best. Besides, she had a strong desire to be wherever Cher was not.

She stretched out on the bunk, but it was really close down there. Cigarette smoke hung over her head, waiting to choke her if she sat upright. Holding her breath, she opened both ports. That was a little better, but unfortunately, getting rid of the smoke meant she could hear Cher, apparently sunning herself right next to the window. She didn’t hear it all, but what she heard was enough.