Текст книги "Take Me Home for Christmas"
Автор книги: Brenda Novak
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Take Me Home for Christmas
Whiskey Creek – 5
by
Brenda Novak
To Sandra Standley and her mother, Diane.
I think you two have read every book I’ve ever written. Thanks for your tremendous enthusiasm and support!
Dear Reader,
I’ve had many of you request Ted and Sophia’s story—so I’m excited to see it published, especially at Christmas because Christmas is such a perfect time for forgiveness, and that’s what Sophia longs for. If you’ve read the rest of the books in this series, you already know that she needed to learn a few lessons. Fortunately, they were nothing that the school of hard knocks couldn’t teach her. By the time I finished this story I admired her as much as (or even more than) all the other characters in Whiskey Creek, even the ones who’ve lived exemplary lives. I hope you’ll agree as you come to know her and her situation better.
I am often asked if my Whiskey Creek books can be read as stand-alone stories or if they need to be read in order. The answer to that question is, yes, they can be read alone and should be just as enjoyable. So dive in and meet the group of friends who’ve made Whiskey Creek “The Heart of Gold Country.”
Please visit my website at www.brendanovak.com for more information about this book and all the others I’ve written (I think I’m getting close to forty-five, although it’s been a while since I’ve counted). If you’re all caught up on Whiskey Creek, you might be interested in trying my other small-town series (with a total of eight books) set in the fictional town of Dundee, Idaho, until Come Home to Me (Aaron and Presley’s story) is released in April 2014.
At my website you can also drop me an email, enter my many giveaways and participate in my annual online auction for diabetes research. So far, we’ve managed to raise nearly $2 million to help those (like my son) who have diabetes.
Enjoy!
Brenda
WHISKEY CREEK Cast of Characters
Major Characters
Cheyenne Christensen: Helps Eve Harmon run Little Mary’s B and B (formerly the Gold Nugget). Married to Dylan Amos, who owns Amos Auto Body.
Gail DeMarco: Owns a public relations firm in L.A. Married to movie star Simon O’Neal.
Ted Dixon: Bestselling thriller writer.
Eve Harmon: Manages Little Mary’s B and B, which is owned by her family.
Kyle Houseman: Owns a solar panel business. Formerly married to Noelle Arnold.
Baxter North: Stockbroker in San Francisco.
Noah Rackham: Professional cyclist. Owns Crank It Up bike shop. Married to Adelaide Davies, chef and manager of Just Like Mom’s restaurant, owned by her grandmother.
Riley Stinson: Contractor.
Callie Vanetta: Photographer. Married to Levi McCloud/Pendleton, veteran of Afghanistan.
Other Recurring Characters
The Amos Brothers: Dylan, Aaron (who was in a relationship with Presley), Rodney, Grady and Mack.
Olivia Arnold: Kyle Houseman’s true love but married to Brandon Lucero, Kyle’s stepbrother.
Presley Christensen: Cheyenne’s sister.
Sophia DeBussi: Jilted Ted Dixon to marry Skip DeBussi, investment guru and richest man in town.
Joe DeMarco: Gail DeMarco’s older brother, owns the Whiskey Creek Gas-n-Go.
Phoenix Fuller: In prison. Mother of Jacob Stinson, who is being raised by his father, Riley.
1
Sophia DeBussi’s husband was gone. As in...disappeared. Nowhere to be found. At ninety feet, the Legacy was a sizable yacht—Skip never bought anything except the very best—but not so sizable that a full-grown man could easily be overlooked. The six-member crew had just helped Sophia and her thirteen-year-old daughter scour every inch of the boat.
Other than his cell phone, which he wasn’t answering, Skip’s things were where they should be, but he was not.
Holding back her long hair, Sophia squinted against the sunshine glinting off the water, trying to see the coast of Brazil a few miles to starboard. Could her husband have gone for an early-morning swim and somehow reached land?
That was a possibility, but it was a remote one. Why would he go off on his own? It was too windy to enjoy the beach today. And although he traveled all over the world for business, she’d never heard of him meeting anyone in Rio de Janeiro.
Besides, he’d planned this trip for their thirteenth anniversary because he wanted to spend quality time as a family. She couldn’t imagine he was working, not when this vacation was supposed to be about starting over, about saving their troubled marriage. He’d said he wouldn’t take one call. If he’d made that promise just to her, maybe she wouldn’t have relied on it. He’d said such things before and hadn’t followed through. But he’d also promised their daughter, and he and Alexa were very close.
So...where was he?
Sophia gazed down at the water itself. Had he fallen overboard and drowned in the choppy Atlantic?
That thought led to a surge of relief. It was macabre to wish anyone dead, but only if Skip was gone for good would she ever escape him. She’d lived with him long enough to know he’d never willingly let her go. He’d said as much.
The moment Alexa came to the railing to stand beside her, guilt replaced the relief she’d been feeling. Her poor daughter might have lost her father. How could she be happy about that?
“What happened, Mom?” Lexi asked, her big blue eyes filling with tears.
Sophia put an arm around her child’s thin shoulders. “I don’t know, sweetheart.” She kept going over the past twenty-four hours in her mind, but could point to nothing out of the ordinary. Skip had gone to bed with her last night at eleven, as usual. He’d demanded sex, as usual. If he was around, he insisted on some sexual favor at least once a day. She was pretty sure he slept with other women when he was traveling, especially since he was often gone for a week or longer. But she never tried to check up on him. She just did what she had to when he was home to keep the peace, to survive. She knew how he’d act if she refused him. Even if he didn’t strike her, he’d sulk for days.
Except for the embarrassment of having to tell everyone, including their daughter, that she’d tripped and fallen into a door or slammed on her brakes and hit the steering wheel, she would’ve hated the sulking even more. Sometimes it lasted far longer than the bruises.
Alexa wiped her wet cheeks. “You really don’t remember when he got up this morning?”
They’d already been over this. Sophia didn’t remember. She didn’t rise as early as he did. It wasn’t as if he’d allow her to have a job. On a school day, she typically went back to bed after Alexa left, staying there until ten or so. Then she’d get up slowly, work on maintaining her beauty, which was all-important to Skip, and drink away the rest of the afternoon. Alcohol was the one thing that seemed capable of dulling the disappointment, not to mention the boredom, she lived with on a constant basis.
But it also gave him a club to use when he needed it. I thought I was getting something special when I married you. You were someone, remember? The mayor’s only child. The most popular girl in school. Now look at you. You’re nothing but a lazy drunk.
She tried to shove those hateful words into the back of her mind, where they resided. They made her crave a gin and tonic, but it was too early for that. She couldn’t have one, anyway, she reminded herself. Not only had she just spent thirty days in rehab, she’d promised Skip, as part of their “starting over,” that she’d really quit the booze this time. He’d threatened to have her committed to a mental institution like her mother if she didn’t. She wasn’t sure what he’d use to make her seem crazy, but he’d figure it out. Her mother’s condition, the fact that there was mental illness in the family, definitely wouldn’t work in her favor.
“Mom?” Lexi said.
Sophia pulled herself out of the whirlpool of her thoughts. “He didn’t wake me, honey. I’m sorry. He didn’t tell me he was leaving, either. I would’ve remembered.”
“Are you sure? He says you forget a lot. That you’d live in a bottle if you could.”
He often criticized her to Lexi. He was the dazzling father who swooped in bearing outlandish gifts. The parent who’d promised her a Porsche for her sixteenth birthday. He never had to raise his voice to insist she do chores, finish her dinner or improve her grades, because he wasn’t around long enough. “I’ve quit drinking,” Sophia said softly. “That’s why I went away, remember? Why you had to stay with Grandma and Grandpa.”
Alexa didn’t pursue the old argument. She was too bewildered by her father’s disappearance. “This is just so...weird.”
“It is weird.” Sophia could tell that the captain and his mates agreed. She’d heard them asking each other if anyone had seen Mr. DeBussi on deck in the wee hours. No one had. No one had heard him, either. But with the engine chugging away and the waves splashing against the sides of the boat, would anyone notice if he fell overboard?
“I keep thinking he has to be here somewhere.” Dressed in cut-offs and a white tank, Alexa leaned on the railing as her troubled eyes ran over the deck, the bar, the stairs going below. “I’m so worried.”
Sophia didn’t want her to have to accept the worst quite yet. She didn’t want her to suffer at all. Alexa was the only reason she’d remained in her loveless marriage. Skip had told her she’d never see her daughter again if she left, and she believed him. He had the support of a rich and powerful family who lived in the same small town they did. With her own mother diagnosed with schizophrenia and her father dead, she had no one. “He might turn up.”
A fresh tear rolled down Lexi’s cheek. “But you heard the captain. He said there’s no way Dad could’ve reached shore. No one could swim that far.”
The captain would’ve been right had he been talking about anyone else. But he didn’t know Skip, not like she did. Skip could do anything he set his mind to. Sophia had never met such a strong-willed individual. Or such a controlling one.
She pulled her daughter into a hug. “We’ve contacted the U.S. Consulate, and they’ve called the police. We’ll be docking at Rio to wait while they check the city and the beaches. We won’t leave without him. Let’s not give up hope too soon.”
Alexa’s head bumped against Sophia’s chest as she nodded, but she was obviously struggling to believe those measures would do any good. She couldn’t picture her father jumping over the side in the middle of the night and swimming for shore—and neither could Sophia.
The captain approached. “I’ve secured a slip at Marina de Gloria, Mrs. DeBussi,” he said. “We should be in port in less than thirty minutes.”
“Thank you, Captain Armstrong.”
His nod had the same effect as a salute. He turned away, but then he paused.
“Is there anything else?” she asked.
“I just—” he faced her again “—I wanted to warn you.”
A sense of foreboding chilled her despite the ninety-degree weather. “About...”
“The police. When I spoke to them on the radio, they...they asked me if...” He cleared his throat as his eyes flicked to Alexa, and she nudged her daughter toward the stairs.
“Lexi, why don’t you go below and check our bedroom one more time, okay? Make sure everything of Daddy’s is there, even his shaving kit.”
“We know it’s there,” she protested.
Sophia gave her another little push. “Check again, will you?”
Reluctantly, her daughter headed to the stairs, casting a frown over one shoulder before she disappeared from view.
“What is it, Captain Armstrong?” Sophia asked.
“They had questions about your marriage, Mrs. DeBussi. If I’ve ever seen the two of you fight, that sort of thing.”
He hadn’t seen them fight. No one had. Skip kept up appearances at all costs. His reputation as the man who had everything meant more to him than something as malleable as the truth. He never grew violent when someone else was around, and that included Lexi. If he got upset, he simply punished Sophia later.
But anyone who was astute could no doubt feel the tension. Sophia was terrified of him. Even when he wasn’t overtly abusive, she endured many small but vicious reprisals.
“And you told them...what?” Her heart thumped so loudly she was afraid he could hear it. Skip wouldn’t like this intrusion into their personal lives, so why had he left her vulnerable to it?
“That I don’t know anything about your private life. But...I want to reassure you that even if I did, I wouldn’t speak of it.”
She found his loyalty comforting, especially because she would never have taken it for granted. She barely knew him, had hardly ever spoken to him. It didn’t matter that he was old enough to be her father, or that he was married himself. Her husband was too jealous. Any interaction would’ve risked the captain’s job. “Thank you, Captain Armstrong.”
“You’re welcome. I have the utmost respect for you, Mrs. DeBussi. But...”
She pulled the gauzy white scarf she’d paired with her summer sheath dress tighter. “Yes?”
He lowered his voice. “You should be prepared. They will ask you the same thing.”
Suddenly she grasped why he was telling her this. “You don’t mean... They don’t think I might’ve harmed Mr. DeBussi?” The irony of anyone suspecting her of hurting him almost made her laugh.
“They have to rule out that possibility.”
She could understand why, of course. But how would she convince them? Although the U.S. Consulate was acting as a liaison, she’d be dealing with foreign police; she couldn’t even speak their language. What if they arrested her?
Her face must’ve betrayed her panic because the captain took her elbow and led her to a chaise. It was nothing he’d risk doing in her husband’s presence, but she was grateful for his kindness.
“They won’t be able to prove anything, Mrs. DeBussi,” he said. “You just need to remain strong and insistent.”
They won’t be able to prove anything? What did that mean? That he suspected her—but didn’t blame her? She dared not ask him to clarify. Forcing a smile, she said, “Of course.”
If only “strong” felt like a possibility. She’d been strong once, even willful and rebellious. She regretted a great many things about those days, had been paying for her sins ever since. She considered living with Skip to be part of her penance. But the one attribute she’d lost that she wished she’d retained was her fighting spirit.
Maybe it was there, somewhere. But having a child had completely disarmed her.
2
Sophia slipped out of Alexa’s room. She was finally asleep, and Sophia was grateful. It had been a long, hard day. Although she could scarcely believe it, there’d been no word from Skip. As promised, the police had met them at noon, when they docked at the marina. While a handful of crime-scene techs went through the boat, searching for blood or any other clue, an investigator had spoken to her. In a heavy Portuguese accent, he’d asked all the questions one might expect under the circumstances.
And Sophia had lied in response to almost every one of them.
What made you decide to take a trip to Rio?
Where better to celebrate our anniversary? We’ve been meaning to get away for months.
Do you consider you and your husband to be a happy couple?
Oh, yes. We’ve never been more in love.
Is there anyone, maybe a member of the crew, who might’ve been angry with your husband?
Of course not. Skip is wonderful, well-liked by everyone.
Her muscles had ached with tension, but she dared not tell the truth, especially when she was asked who might want him dead. She was pretty sure she was the only one. Mr. Armstrong’s three mates were new hires. They’d met Skip at the beginning of the voyage so they’d had very little time to get acquainted. And although it was possible the captain, the cook and the maid found him as egotistical and overbearing as she did, without him they wouldn’t have a job. None of them had any reason to push him into the ocean.
So where had he gone? They had no more answers now than before they’d docked. But, thank God, the day was over and she had the night to try to recover.
Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she went up on deck and gazed out at the city. Rio was lit up like an amusement park, but it was a lonely sight as she sat on the Legacy so far from California, wondering what had happened to her husband.
Her cell phone lay on the table nearby. Today, Carlotta, the maid who cleaned up after them and saw to their personal needs, had helped her make arrangements with her carrier so she’d have service while she was out of the States. No doubt Skip’s phone had had international calling from the beginning but, until now, there’d been no need for Sophia to have it. She rarely spoke to anyone outside Whiskey Creek.
After eyeing it for several minutes—as though it was a snake ready to strike—she picked it up and dialed. She’d tried calling Skip earlier, on the captain’s phone. Then, when the police were here, they’d called together. Skip hadn’t answered, of course, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t.
“This is Skip DeBussi of DeBussi Worldwide Investments. I’ll be unavailable until October 23rd. My assistant, Kelly Petruzzi, will handle any work-related matters in my absence—”
She hung up before he could recite Kelly’s contact information. She’d checked in with Skip’s assistant several times today. He hadn’t heard from her husband, either, which made no sense. Kelly always knew where to reach him in case there was an emergency.
If Skip was alive, he had to pick up at some point. He never went anywhere without his phone, and it certainly hadn’t been left on the boat.
Determined to put an end to what felt like a bizarre dream, Sophia tried him again. And again and again. If the police checked his phone records, it’d look like she was frantic to speak to him. But, in her heart of her hearts, she knew she was merely trying to confirm that he wasn’t going to answer.
The calls went directly to voice mail. Although she listened to his greeting every time, she left only one message. “Skip? Where are you?”
“Mrs. DeBussi?”
The voice didn’t belong to her husband. Startled in spite of that, she jumped and hit the end button. “Yes, Captain Armstrong?”
The Legacy’s captain came closer, his tall body momentarily blocking the lights of the city behind him. “You didn’t eat much dinner. Can I bring you a plate of cheese and crackers? Or a glass of wine?”
She definitely wanted a drink. Some chardonnay would relax her, help her get through what promised to be a rough night of wondering and waiting. But she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop at one glass. And she needed a clear head. Her daughter was depending on her for emotional strength and direction. The last thing she wanted to do was let Alexa down or prove Skip right—that she was nothing but a lazy drunk.
“I’m fine. Thank you.”
He seemed disappointed that she’d refused. He didn’t know she’d recently come out of rehab, or he would never have offered her wine. Skip, embarrassed by her addiction, had kept her stint at New Beginnings in Los Angeles a secret from everyone except his parents, who’d watched Alexa so he could work while she was gone.
“You should have some food to keep up your strength,” the captain coaxed.
Sophia wanted to eat for that reason but couldn’t swallow a bite. “I’m okay, really.”
With a nod, he moved toward the stairs. “I’m going to turn in, then.”
It was only nine o’clock, but why shouldn’t he enjoy some private time? There wasn’t much anyone could do to change the situation, except wait and see if Skip returned. Although the police had tried to find him by tracking his cell phone, there’d been no signal. According to them, he hadn’t placed a single call since early last night, when he’d talked to his office.
“Good night, Mr. Armstrong,” she said, “and rest easy. There’s nothing a ship’s captain needs to worry about while we’re docked at the marina.”
“This ship’s captain is worried about you,” he told her.
She glanced up. The light of the moon let her see the sympathy on his ruddy face.
“I’m sorry, you remind me of my daughter,” he said. “I can’t help feeling protective of you.”
Sophia might’ve been surprised, except she had that effect on most men, not just the fatherly types. Her mother used to laugh about it. You’re like a china doll, she’d say. Flawless but fragile. There isn’t a more potent combination for attracting the opposite sex.
Skip, of course, had put a darker spin on it. You’re like Marilyn Monroe. You have the kind of sex appeal that drives men crazy. You’ve constantly got them sniffing around, like dogs after a bitch in heat.
The first time Skip had ever hit her was following a chili cook-off sponsored by his wealthy parents. His own cousin, visiting from Denver, had pulled out a chair for her, and that was all it had taken to set him off—once they got home, of course. He’d accused her of flirting, of making his cousin believe she found him attractive.
“I appreciate your concern,” she said to Armstrong, “but...I—I’ll get through this somehow.”
“And if your husband doesn’t come back? Will you be able to get through that?”
Her life would be far easier than if he did. But she couldn’t admit it. “I’ll do my best for my daughter’s sake.”
“I hope it won’t come to that.”
She didn’t say anything, merely smiled as he left. Then she called Kelly to see if there’d been any news.
“Mrs. DeBussi?”
Her husband’s thirtysomething assistant sounded impatient, upset. At first, Sophia felt guilty, assuming she’d bothered him after hours. It was dark where she was—but then she remembered that Rio was five hours ahead of California. Back home, it was three in the afternoon.
“I’m sorry to interrupt you again,” she began, slightly put off, but he broke in before she could go any further.
“No, I’m glad to hear from you. Relieved. As a matter of fact, I was about to call.”
A tight ball of nerves formed in her belly. He’d never been excited to hear from her before. During their brief encounters, even the ones earlier today, he’d treated her with professional courtesy but that was it. Skip kept his business completely separate from his personal life. He hardly ever talked about what he worked on from day to day, or the places he went—unless it was to brag about some multi-million-dollar deal he’d closed.
“You’ve heard from my husband,” she said.
“Not a peep. But I really need to talk to him. He’s not back yet?”
She might’ve been glad there was still no sign of the man she’d grown to hate, but the anxiety in Kelly’s voice kept her on edge. “No. What’s going on?”
“The FBI is here. They’re looking for him.”
So soon? She’d had no idea the Brazilian police were going to contact the FBI. They hadn’t mentioned it. Did the FBI get involved in every case involving a missing American? Maybe if that American disappeared while out of the country. “That was fast. He’s only been gone fifteen hours or so.”
The tension in his voice rose a notch. “They’re not here for the reason you think. They have a search warrant.”
Sophia got to her feet. “What does that mean?”
“They’re demanding access to the offices, the files, everything.” Kelly’s emotions were obviously escalating toward panic. But other than an occasional speeding ticket—usually when he was driving his Ferrari since he had a chauffeur take him to and from the company offices in San Francisco—Skip had never been in trouble with the law.
“Why?”
He seemed to make an effort to keep his voice down. “I guess...I guess he’s the target of a probe. They plan to bring him up on criminal charges.”
Sophia was so stunned she couldn’t speak.
“Mrs. DeBussi?”
After clearing her throat, she managed to find her voice. “I’m here. What—what kind of criminal charges?”
“There’s a whole list. Just a sec, they gave me something—” She heard a flustered sigh, then sheets of paper rattling in the background before he came back on the line. “Here it is. He’s looking at several counts of conspiracy to commit mail and wire fraud, securities fraud and engaging in monetary transactions in property derived from specified unlawful activity.”
After such a windy day, the night was, by contrast, calm. But Sophia hardly felt calm inside. Conspiracy. Fraud. Unlawful...whatever that was. Those charges sounded like a jumble of very bad words. “And that adds up to...”
“From what I understand, he could go to prison for the rest of his life.”
Knees weak, Sophia felt behind her for a chair and sank into it. “It can’t be as bad as that.”
“They claim to have proof,” he said, “and they think they’re going to uncover more in their search.”
“They claim?” she echoed. “Is it true? Could it be true? Wouldn’t you know if he was doing something that...terrible?”
“How would I? He only tells me what he wants me to hear, and he’s never said anything about fraud. But—” he lowered his voice “—he has been acting strange lately.”
Somehow she’d missed every sign of that. But she’d been in rehab for a month, during which he could’ve done almost anything. During the first two weeks, she wasn’t even allowed to talk to him. And she’d been absolutely focused on maintaining her sobriety ever since. “In what way?”
“Distracted. Worried.”
“Why didn’t you say so earlier?” she asked, appalled. “When we called, you claimed everything was fine.” Kelly hadn’t seemed concerned in the least. He’d said that maybe Skip had arranged for a boat to pick him up and take him to Rio or somewhere else in Brazil.
“I was trying to keep the business running here and I wanted to handle the call the way he’d expect me to. What if I’d gotten everyone worked up and then he returned by nightfall? I never thought...I mean, I guessed a particular deal might not be going well, but there are always ups and downs when you’re managing investments. I had no idea his problems were this serious.”
Kelly had referred to prison. In a town the size of Whiskey Creek, the humiliation of criminal prosecution would be devastating—not just for her and Skip and his parents, who were so proud of him, but for Alexa, who’d had everything money could buy and was used to feeling important and admired.
“Those charges you mentioned—mail fraud and...and securities fraud. They’re not murder. They’re not anything...violent. If he gets a good attorney, he’ll be able to stay out of prison, won’t he?”
“It’s white-collar crime, but those are serious charges.”
She rubbed her temples. She had such a headache. She needed a drink but refused to succumb to the pressure. How could she handle all this if she was drunk? Lexi needs me.
“They’re not coming after you, too....”
“They haven’t said, but I can’t imagine they are. All they have to do is follow the money to know I haven’t been involved.” But his job was in jeopardy. That couldn’t be easy to hear, especially out of the blue.
“I’m still not clear on what he’s done,” she said. “Or what they say he’s done.”
“He’s stolen money, Mrs. DeBussi.”
But he always had so much. Why would he need to steal? “From who?”
“From his investors.”
Oh, God... “Then what’s the mail fraud?”
“I can’t say how that figures in, exactly. It’s one of the charges. According to a special agent by the name of Freeman, your husband’s been taking investors’ funds and funneling them into private accounts and privately held companies instead of putting them into the SLD Growth Fund. Maybe they mailed him the payments. The FBI is asking a lot of questions but they’re not giving a lot of answers.”
Funneling money into personal accounts? Why would Skip be so dishonest? “He wouldn’t cheat anyone. He must’ve been borrowing the money. He’ll pay it back.”
“Impossible.”
“Excuse me?”
Kelly’s whisper grew louder. “Do you have any idea how much we’re talking about?”
Her eyes burned with unshed tears. She wanted to be home where she could find solace in the familiar. “No. How much?”
“Sixty million dollars.”
Sophia felt faint. “That’s a huge amount of money.” Even to her, and she was used to hearing Skip talk in big figures.
“More than he’ll ever be able to come up with.”
“So...who’s been hurt? Which investors?”
“Anyone who gave him money for the SLD Fund.”
“And the SLD Fund is...”
“The money that was supposed to be invested in a diverse array of assets and publicly traded equities.”
Wait. The “publicly traded equities” reference jogged her memory. She’d heard Skip talking about the SLD Fund with various people around town. That was the big moneymaking opportunity he’d been pushing for the past year. “You’re saying these investors have lost their money? There’s no way to get it back?”
“Now you’re catching on,” Kelly retorted. “I’m guessing he wouldn’t have taken it if he didn’t need it, but that doesn’t make this right. He’s been struggling to cover our overhead here for months. I thought he’d get the finances straightened out when he closed the next deal. That’s what he told me. He said he had a big one coming down the pike. But now...I’m wondering if he’s been saying that just to buy time, so I’d stick around until the end and help him keep up appearances.”
“You’re making it sound like...like DeBussi Investments is defunct. Broke!”
“It should sound that way. Because unless he’s sitting on a secret stash somewhere, it’s true.”
“That can’t be possible.” Skip always had money. Although he’d entered the business world right out of high school and hadn’t attended a day of college, he’d been independently wealthy by the time she married him, when they were twenty-two. And he’d grown richer as the years passed. Not long ago, California Business, a respected magazine, had touted him the best investment consultant in the state.
“But if there’s no money in DeBussi Investments, what about our personal finances?” she asked. “Maybe I can pay some of it back.” At least to the people she knew.
“I have no idea how things stand on the personal side,” Kelly said.
That gave Sophia some hope, but she found out soon enough that she wouldn’t be able to right Skip’s wrongs. When she tried to buy fuel for the Legacy the next morning, she learned that the FBI had frozen all of their bank and credit accounts.
