Milk Money Page 8

  She hugged him, silently praying she could say the right words. “Did they catch the person who shot her?” she asked, ending their embrace.

  “Yeah, they caught him, and he’s in prison. But I tell you what, if they hadn’t caught him, I’d be going after him myself. I would have searched until I found her killer if the police hadn’t gotten to him first.”

  “Why do you think this is your fault?”

  “I should have realized what she was going to do. I should have gone with her. I knew how stubborn she was about helping her brother. Maybe I could have talked her out of it. If I’d reasoned with her, she may not have gone to meet with him and she’d still be alive.”

  “Or she could have thought about this with a level head.”

  He gave her a strange look. “What do you mean?”

  “I know you miss your wife, and I can see how much you loved her, but it wasn’t your job to ensure she always thought rationally. You’re beating yourself up over something you had no control over. Julie knew what kind of crowd her brother hung out with, and I’m sure she knew about the danger of meeting him in that seedy area. Why couldn’t she have figured out another way to get him the money? Could she have mailed him a check—”

  “The type of people he dealt with wouldn’t be waiting on a check.”

  Emily shrugged, still not deterred from making Frank see reason. “You mentioned to me that you were mad at your parents.”

  He nodded. “My anger at my parents started years ago when I’d started dating Julie. They didn’t like the fact that she wasn’t from a good family, and they didn’t support my marriage.”

  “Is that the only reason you’re angry with them?”

  “Emily, when my parents rejected my wife, it was like they were rejecting me, too. I’ll be honest with you and let you know that my parents did do something else besides reject Julie.”

  “What did they do?”

  “When I got engaged to Julie, they did a background check on her and her brother. They didn’t think she’d be a suitable addition to the family, so they told me the only way they would support my marriage would be if I made her sign a prenup.”

  Emily gasped. “A prenup? Do you mean a prenuptial agreement?”

  He nodded. “Yes. They felt like she was just a gold digger, wanting to get into the family to get some of their fortune.”

  “You didn’t ask her to sign it, did you?”

  He shook his head. “No, I loved her, and I couldn’t hurt her like that. When we got married, she wondered about the distant relationship we had with my parents. She was smart enough to know that my parents’ cold reception of her was tied to her background, but she never knew about the prenup.”

  “So they didn’t talk to Julie much at all?”

  He shook his head. “Not really. It was awful. When they distanced themselves from my wife, my relationship with them changed. When Julie died, they offered no sympathy. I feel like they thought she deserved what happened to her.”

  “Frank! Are you sure about this?”

  He shook his head. “They never said it, but they just acted like they didn’t care when she died. They didn’t call or anything.”

  “Maybe they thought you didn’t want them to call. Maybe they didn’t want to make you angrier.”

  “You sound like you’re defending them.”

  She touched his arm. “I’m just trying to make you see this rationally. What does Trish say about all this?”

  “She says my parents want to start speaking to me again.”

  She said the first thing that came to her mind. “You’ll need to forgive your parents for the way they mistreated your wife. I’ve told you this before, but the only One who can help you is God.”

  He gave her an icy stare. “What?”

  “What about your faith in God? Haven’t you prayed about your pain, asked God to help you forgive Julie’s killer and to forgive your parents?” She gestured around the cluttered room. “You can’t drown your sorrows with booze.”

  “I don’t care about God, and God doesn’t care about me.”

  “How can you say that when you’re not giving Him a chance?”

  He huffed, running his fingers over his head. “Julie was saved not long after we were married. She tried to get me to accept Christ.”

  “What happened?”

  His voice thickened. “Julie got killed.” His dark eyes stared into hers. “I can’t forget about that and accept God.”

  She prayed that God would lead her to say the right words. “Julie was saved? She’s with Jesus now. Remember that.”

  He clasped his hands together. “Don’t be preaching to me.” He gave her a scathing look. “Besides, you have no idea what I’ve been through this past year.”

  She stood and stepped back, startled by his sudden outburst. She swallowed, her anger brewing like a slow stew simmering to boil. “I just lost my father, and I lost my mother years ago!” She clenched her hands together. “I know what it’s like to lose someone you love.” She calmed down before she squeezed his hand. “Give God a chance. I still have the church program from last week’s service in my purse,” she said, opening her purse and pulling out the program and a pen. She circled one of the contact numbers on the back. “The information about the alcoholic support group at my church is on the back.” She pressed the paper into his palm. “The worship services are also listed. Devon Crandall is the leader for the alcoholic support group. They have weekly meetings, and I’ve heard good things about his work with the ministry.”

  He placed the program on the coffee table. “I’ll think about it.”

  “I’ll be praying for you, Frank.” Emily embraced him before she left.

  The following Sunday, Frank awakened and sat up in bed, cradling his aching head. “Oh, man.” The empty liquor bottle stared back at him, mocking his mistake. His sour stomach churned, and before long he ran to the bathroom and threw up. He relaxed against the cool, white-tiled wall, willing his rapidly beating heart to slow down. “God, I can’t go on like this. I just can’t.” The nightmare about Julie haunted him again the previous night, and he squeezed his eyes shut, willing the unpleasant dream to vanish from his mind.

  His cell phone chirped, and he stood on wobbly legs and plodded into the bedroom. He pulled the black instrument from the shelf. Not bothering to check the caller ID, he flipped the phone open. “Hello.”

  “Hi, little brother.”

  “Trish.” The last thing he needed was a lecture from his sister.

  “My goodness, don’t sound so happy to hear from me.” Sarcasm dripped from her voice, and Frank plopped back onto the bed.

  “I’m not feeling great right now.”

  “You’re probably hungover.”

  He winced, ashamed of his nightly routine. “Are Mark and Regina okay?”

  “The kids are fine. I didn’t call to talk about them or about your drinking problem. I wanted to talk about Dad.”

  “What about him?” He cradled the phone between his ear and shoulder, grabbing the large bottle of acetaminophen on his bedside table. Popping the jar open, he shook four tablets into his palm and dropped them into his mouth. He drank from a bottle of water, swallowing the pills.

  “He’s still sick.”

  “Has he been to the doctor yet?”

  She scoffed. “You know he hasn’t. But he was telling me the other day that he wished you would talk to them again.”

  He shook his head, but the movement caused bullets of pain to shoot behind his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he laid back on the pillows. “I don’t have time to listen to this.”

  “Well, you better make time. I think if you’d talk to Dad again, he might feel better. Maybe he’ll be so glad to hear from you that he’ll do whatever you ask him to, even if that’s going to the doctor.”

  Still holding the phone, he entered the kitchen, willing his aching head to stop pounding. He opened the cupboard. The canister of coffee beckoned him. He removed the can
and opened it, spilling coffee grounds into the white filter. “Trish, I have to go now.”

  “But Frank—”

  “I’ll talk to you later.” He snapped his phone shut, throwing it on the kitchen table. Soon drops of coffee splattered into the coffeemaker, filling the kitchen with an aromatic scent. He pulled a mug from the cupboard and filled it with the steaming brew, along with a generous portion of cream and sugar.

  He entered his living room and sat on the couch. Waves of guilt washed over him, and he blinked away unshed tears. He turned away from the wedding photo, continuing to sip his coffee. As the caffeine soothed his nerves, he set his mug down and returned to his bedroom. He found a box of his belongings, which he had never unpacked, sitting on the bottom of the closet. He dumped the contents, riffling through trinkets, old magazines, and books. Finally, he spotted his large black Bible, a gift from his deceased wife, among the clutter. Once he’d returned to the living room, he retrieved his mug, still holding his Bible. The old church program Emily had given him that week still sat on the coffee table.

  He gazed at the paper, making his decision.

  An hour later, Frank sat in a pew at Monkton Christian Church. Once the sermon finished, Frank mulled over the pastor’s words about forgiveness. Waves of heat washed over him when he stepped outside. People scurried to their cars, anxious to avoid the dreaded high temperatures.

  He glanced around the sea of brown faces and stopped when he spotted Emily. Her white dress cascaded over her slim brown body, and her dark tresses were pulled into a severe ponytail, accenting her high cheekbones and full lips.

  Kelly and Christine stood beside Emily. Laughter floated from the three women, and he wondered what they were talking about. Emily lifted her head, looking directly at him. Her smile faltered.

  “Hi, Emily.” He then gazed at Kelly and Christine. “Nice seeing you again, Kelly, Christine.”

  Kelly and Christine said hello. A mischievous smile played on Kelly’s full lips, and after a few more words to Emily, Kelly took her exit. “I hope she didn’t leave because of me,” Frank commented.

  “No, she’s meeting somebody.”

  Christine spoke up. “I need to go, too. There’s a sale going on at some of the stores at the Inner Harbor, and I was going to go and look around.”

  Emily touched Christine’s shoulder. “Is everything okay? I don’t want you going shopping, buying things you can’t afford just to make yourself feel better.”

  Christine shook her head. “I didn’t lose my job, but I just discovered they only went through the first round of layoffs. They’re going to do more within the next couple of weeks.” She shrugged. “Maybe I’ll just look around the stores and not buy anything.”

  “Did you want to share lunch with me instead?”

  Christine declined and bid them farewell.

  They stood awkwardly on the hot sidewalk, and Emily spoke. “I was shocked to see you here today.”

  Frank didn’t comment on her observation. People walked around them, and she touched his arm, leaning in a bit closer. “You don’t look like you feel very well, and your eyes are red. Are you sick?” Frank sighed, unsure of how to respond “Did you have too much to drink last night?”

  He pulled his arm away. “I don’t want to talk about that right now.”

  “Is there something else you wanted to talk to me about?” He touched her arm. “I never got a chance to talk to you about the audit the other day when you came to my apartment.”

  “Oh, I’d forgotten all about that with everything you told me.” She clutched the strap of her purse. “I’m getting ready to eat lunch. I could call you this afternoon if you want.”

  “Were you going out to eat?”

  “Kelly, Christine, and I were planning to go to the Monkton Village Market for lunch, but they bailed on me. Christine is pressed to go to this sale, and I don’t have the energy to go shopping with her. She shops for hours! So we could go and get something to eat if you wanted.”

  They drove to the vegetarian restaurant and entered. Emily ordered pancakes with fruit, a blueberry muffin, and a cup of tea. Frank’s stomach was still sour, so he purchased a bottle of water. He took out his wallet to pay for their food, telling the cashier their order was together. Once they’d sat at their table, Emily said, “You didn’t have to pay for my meal.”

  He waved her comment away. “This is a business meal anyway.”

  Emily bowed her head and blessed her food. Her long lashes fluttered when she opened her eyes.

  “I’m surprised you’re eating at a vegetarian place,” Frank said.

  “It’s just a change of pace. I’ve eaten at just about every place in Monkton since Laura’s been gone. They don’t have many places to eat here, and you know that I’m tired of making sandwiches every day.”

  “Speaking of your stepmother, do you know when she’s getting back?” He couldn’t keep the anxiety out of his voice.

  Emily raised her eyebrows, her dark eyes full of suspicion. “Why do you ask?”

  “I needed to talk to her about something important. I can call her, but I’d rather talk to her in person.”

  “What’s wrong? Is the audit not going well?”

  “It’s not going well at all.”

  “What’s happened?”

  He thought about the latest development. “The numbers don’t add up.”

  She frowned, staring into his eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “There’s something wrong. There are large amounts of cash that are unaccounted for.”

  She put her fork aside. “So there’s money missing?”

  He ran his fingers over his head, frustrated. “Yes. When you e-mailed me those missing documents, I was able to piece this information together. I’m still trying to figure out what your father’s done. I was wondering if your stepmother might know something.”

  Emily pushed her plate away. “I doubt it. I already told you we didn’t know much about the finances of our farm.” She appeared pensive as she continued to speak. “Laura and I are lousy with numbers.”

  He frowned. “Really?”

  “Yes. Back in grade school and even in college I struggled with math courses. The only reason I was able to graduate with my bachelor’s and master’s was because I hired a private tutor to help me with all my math classes. I can barely balance a checkbook.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m not kidding. I’ve struggled with math my entire life, and Laura told me she’s never been good with math, either. My dad had this natural mathematical ability, so we just let him handle all the money. You probably wouldn’t understand since you crunch numbers all day.”

  His mathematical abilities had always come naturally, so it was hard to understand how someone couldn’t balance a checkbook. He touched her hand. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure there’s some explanation. Did you find your father’s missing tax returns?”

  “No, not yet. I’ve been looking during my spare time.” She told him they’d been baling hay recently and the intense heat had been affecting the corn crop. “I’ve been busy on the farm a lot, and I’ve also been thankful that one or both of the brothers have been showing up for both the evening and morning milkings.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes before Emily began eating her pancakes again and Frank drank his water. Her lovely voice broke the silence. “Have you been okay? You have circles under your eyes.”

  He set his water bottle back on the table. “Remember you told me about Devon Crandall?”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  “I showed up to a meeting.” Her startled eyes met his. “But I couldn’t go in.”

  “Why not?”

  “I just couldn’t. I stood outside the door for a minute, and I don’t think anybody saw me.” He gazed out the window at a couple who walked by holding hands. “Maybe I can give up the alcohol on my own.”

  “You told me that you’d had alcohol problems befo
re when you were in college. How were you able to quit back then?”

  He recalled that time in his life. “They had AA meetings near campus. But …”

  She grabbed his hand. “But what?”

  “To tell you the truth, I’ve been doing some heavy drinking for over a year now. Back when I was in college, I’d only been drinking for a few months before it started becoming a problem. I think it might be harder for me to quit this time.”

  “Maybe you should give it another try. Maybe you could have somebody go to the meeting with you.”

  “Going to that group of people makes me nervous.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Devon is an understanding man. Maybe you can just meet with him to talk about what you’ve been going through.”

  As she ate her lunch, Frank gave Emily’s advice serious thought.

  eight

  During the next month, Emily’s days continued to be filled with farm chores. She was glad when they had almost two straight days of rain. The claps of thunder and bursts of lightning thrilled her, making her giddy. The heat and dry weather had worried her, and the moisture was just what her crops needed to thrive.

  She’d called Laura about Frank’s questions, but her stepmother was shocked to hear about the missing money. As far as Laura knew, all of her father’s financial information was in his office. Laura had mentioned it was certainly possible that there were files elsewhere in the house, so Emily said she’d keep looking around to see if she could find any missing documents that would help account for the missing funds.

  One morning when the milking was done, Emily and Jeremy stood at the sink, rinsing the equipment and cleaning the barn. The slender teen turned toward Emily. “My mom told me to ask if your mother was coming home soon.”

  “She said she was coming home shortly. I’ve been talking to her every day.” She glanced at him, wondering if he understood the pain of losing somebody so close. “I don’t want to keep bothering her about when she’s coming home. But I do miss her a lot.” She gave the teen a smile and continued rinsing her equipment. She was a little hurt that Laura had not called to wish her a happy birthday. “Make sure either you or your brother or both of you are here tonight to milk the cows.”