At Wits' End - Kenzie Reed Page 0,85
do not know what my son sees in you,” he says furiously. That makes me smile. It’s more reassurance that Donovan’s feelings for me are real.
“I repeat. What subdivisions has he developed before?”
“There are several of them. Listen, I’m in the middle of something. I’m busy.”
“Sure. Just give me the names and I’ll let it go.”
“I don’t have time to look them up.”
“I’ll be at your office in ten minutes. I’m sure someone can find them for me.”
“Don’t worry about it, we’ve got it handled,” he snaps.
“Well, I wasn’t really worried about it until this conversation.” A faint chill settles over me. “Now I am.” Is it possible that there’s a reason everyone’s giving me the runaround?
“I said don’t be!” His voice vibrates with fury.
“Sorry, I’m not one of those women you can bark orders at.” And I hang up the office phone.
He immediately tries to call back.
As the phone rings and rings, I lean back in my chair and chew my lower lip. Without any useful information to go on, I don’t know what to do next. I’ve run into a temporary dead end, which returns my focus to my mother. And even though the vineyard’s doing much better, we’re just starting to climb out of the debt hole my aunt dug for it. I just don’t have enough money to pay a private investigator a few hundred dollars a day for any length of time. I’ve only got one choice.
The office phone’s ringing again. Whatever. He can keep dialing until his fingers fall off.
My heart is heavy as I pick up my cell phone and call Donovan.
“Hey, beautiful,” he says wearily.
My heart twinges in sympathy. “Things not going so well?”
“It’ll work itself out eventually. Thank you for asking, though. Any news?”
“No, and I have a favor to ask of you. I want to borrow some money to have a private investigator look for her.”
He starts making noises of protest. I rush ahead. “Before you argue, let me explain. I will accept the car and the furniture, and even the vineyard machinery, with gratitude and thanks. I will stop trying to pay you back for all that. I am trying very hard to get past my fear of depending on other people, and I think I’m making some progress there. I will let you make me coffee every day of our lives. The private investigator, though, I absolutely cannot let you pay for. This is between me and my mother. It’s a family thing, and also, I know you believe she just left voluntarily. I can’t ask you to pay for something you don’t believe in.”
“If you really want the money… Sienna, you’re just going to find out that she’s holed up somewhere with her latest toolbag of a boyfriend. And you’re so damn stubborn, I know that you’re going to consider yourself in debt to me, and it will be a waste of your money. I’m sorry, but she’s not who you think she is.”
“Why do you keep saying things like that?” Now I’m getting really mad. I really thought he’d be more supportive. “Why do you always act as if you know her better than I do? For God’s sake, before you came back to town this spring, how many times have you even met or talked to her?”
I’m hit with dead silence, and suddenly the blood in my veins is pure ice water.
Oh my God. He’s not answering me. He told me he wouldn’t lie to me. And this is what he’s doing instead of lying to me – he’s not even speaking.
“Tell me.” I bite out the words. “You said you were keeping secrets from me. Do these secrets involve my mother?”
“I can fly home this afternoon. I need to talk to you in person.” His words come out in a rush, tumbling over each other.
Panic balloons inside me. I hit the video chat app on my cell phone, and after a few rings, his haunted, guilty-looking face appears.
“Sienna, please. I’ll book a flight right away. I can get a private flight.”
My throat squeezes in fear. I don’t want to know whatever he’s hiding, but I need to know. “Donovan, if you ever cared about me, you will tell me what you’re hiding from me. This is your one and only chance.”
“Of course I care about you. How can you question that?” He looks me square in the eye and swallows hard. I’ve never seen Donovan looking unsure before.
“Tell me!” I insist. “Damn you, Donovan!