about this, he’ll know I’m . . . what? Involved? Are Rob and I involved? Because I haven’t seen him once since he left me on my bed two days ago. I don’t even know if it’s him dropping Sherm off at school. He gets dropped off and picked up in the wedge at the far end of the parking lot that I can’t see from my window.
“They seem nice. Sherm is a sweet boy, and his brother Rob cares a great deal for him,” I say, my heart throbbing painfully in my chest.
He lifts his eyes without lifting his head. “Where are the parents?”
I think about whether to answer with what I was told, or what I’ve found out since. I split the difference. “His mom died a few years ago.” I decide to leave out the dad-in-jail part.
The dead-mom thing seems to catch him up for a second, and he sips his water to regroup. “So, the older brother is raising him?”
“I’ve met his older sister too. She’s very attentive to Sherm. They seem to take great care of him.”
“Do any of them work?”
“Yes, I think,” I say, more playing with my food than eating it. I’ve lost my appetite. If I tell Dad Rob works with Chuck, Chuck will be next on the interrogation list. Dad and Chuck with their heads together about Rob is the last thing anyone needs.
“Who picks the boy up from school?”
“His brother.” I think.
“So he’s around during the day, which means he’s not working,” he says with a pensive nod. “If they don’t work, where is all the money for cars and motorcycles coming from? Seems like new vehicles are sprouting up on that property every day.”
“I don’t know, Dad. Why do you care so much?”
He rubs his temple as if he’s got a headache. “It’s my job,” he says again, sharper. “If there’s anything illegal going on up there, it’s my job to find out, and that’s usually what free-flowing money with no apparent source points to.”
“They’re not running drugs, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m pretty sure the brother works nights.”
“Then that’s what I’ll find out when I look into it.” There’s an edge to his voice that makes me nervous.
“I don’t see you doing this with every new person who moves onto this island,” I say and can’t totally keep the scorn out of my voice.
“That’s because they don’t give me any reason to.”
I slam my palm on the table. “What reason have the Davidsons given you?”
His expression hardens as he looks at me, and I know. It’s because Rob has been here. Twice.
I let Rob drive away on Wednesday. What choice did I have? I was half-dressed and humiliated. Dad knows he was here. And worse? He probably knows I snuck him past Sergeant Dixon on the way in.
All the blood rushes to my face and I stand and lift my plate. “I’m not hungry. I’m going to bed.”
I dump my dinner down the sink, storm to my room, and drop to the floor, my back against the door. If Rob walked away because he doesn’t want me, I’ll have to live with that, but that’s not what he said. He sounded like he was doing it to protect me.
I need to know how he really feels.
And I’m going to find out.
Chapter 19
Rob
It’s Saturday night and I’ve got a date with David, one of the eight Spencer Security drivers. He’s older than Pop, with a handlebar mustache and a bad comb-over. I hope he looks better in his chauffer getup.
I haven’t forgotten I had a real date with an irresistible blonde before I fucked everything up and left her in the lurch three days ago.
The charity dinner next Saturday is in the grand ballroom of one of the downtown luxury hotels. I make the circuit, jot some notes, head back to the car. David drops his smoke to the ground, grinds it out with the heel of his biker boot, slides into the driver’s seat. He throws the car in gear and we roll out of the driveway.
“Why is she staying somewhere else?” I grumble as he weaves us onto the highway.
“Because South Beach is where it’s happening. They always stay there,” he tells me with the rasp of a lifetime chain-smoker. “This is why they pay you the big bucks.”
“She’s not even going out, according to her itinerary,” I say, flinging the folder onto the dash. “Why the fuck does it matter where she stays?”