Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 94585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
“I talked to Royal,” West said simply. “He suggested you might have some information for me about what's been going on at The Inn.”
Maybe I should have been mad at Royal for talking to West, but I couldn't be. I should have called West myself the second I'd seen the Inn uniform in my father's room. I hadn't figured out exactly what to say or how to say it. Now I was out of time.
I poured West a cup of coffee and gestured to the table. He sat and waited. I sucked in a deep breath and said, “I stole twenty thousand dollars from the bakery. I gave it to my father for a business venture that turned out to be fake, and he said if I didn't come back to work he'd talk Grams into pressing felony theft charges against me. That's why I didn't call you a few hours ago.”
I paused for breath. “Well, that and I'm afraid of what's going to happen to my family after I show you what I found.”
West nodded slowly. “Why don't you show me, and I'll do my best to make this easy on you.”
I sank into a chair at the table, J.T. by my side, and swiped through my phone for the pictures I'd taken in my dad's room. I told West everything. The missing contract with my father, that he'd pretty much admitted to the break-in, the meeting I'd seen and heard between my dad and Vanessa, and so much more. Together we listened to the video I'd taken earlier. There wasn't much to see, but there was plenty to hear.
When I was done, it was West's turn. “I already have my people looking for Vanessa. I'll go pick up your dad myself. If they know anything about Prentice's murder, I'll get it out of them. If your dad comes here, you call me. Do not open the door. Understand?”
“Yes, but what about the money? I didn't think of it that way at the time, but technically, I stole it from Grams.” I should have kept my mouth shut, but the specter of felony charges dangled over my head.
West gave me a steady, calm look. “I have plenty of evidence against your dad and Vanessa, but I don't have any evidence against you. If your Grandmother provides it and presses charges, that's a different story.”
“But… My dad said—” It's not that I was trying to get West to arrest me, but the idea of false hope was even worse.
“Daisy, I think you already know your dad is in a lot of trouble. He's making threats to save his ass, but they aren't going to work. He doesn't have any standing in the bakery right now. Only your grandmother can assess the bakery's finances and determine if there was a theft. And, honey,” West gave a shake of his head, “Eleanor is not going to press felony theft charges against you. No way in hell.”
I dropped my head to stare at the tabletop. I used to believe that, too. That Grams loved me best, that she'd always have my back. But now…
West reached out to take my hand. “Daisy, look at me.” I did, and the kindness in his face was too much. A tear ran down my cheek, chased by another.
“I'm so tired of crying,” I muttered, brushing the tear away with the back of my free hand.
“Hopefully, we'll get this sorted out with your father and you won't have to cry anymore. But I need you to listen to me for a minute, okay?” I nodded. “Your father is full of shit. He's an opportunist and a liar and no one in this town has any idea how he came from Eleanor. She did right with you, but your father is a waste of space.”
West sighed and leaned back, letting go of my hand. “Darren talks a good game, and Eleanor loves him, so right now she's letting him turn her head. She's confused. But I promise you, she is not going to press charges against you. No fucking way.”
The buzzer on the oven went off and J.T. took the pie out, sliding it onto a cooling rack. Turning to me, he said, “West is right, Daze. Grams was upset, and she doesn't get why you left because your dad is messing with her, but there's no way she'll press charges.”
I scrubbed my palms over my cheeks. I was still wearing my damp clothes, my eyes were red from crying, and my hair was all over the place. Before I took the next step, I needed to get myself together. First, I had a question for West.
“Is Royal still at The Inn? Do you know?”
West raised an eyebrow at me, and I knew he was answering as Royal's friend, not as the chief of police. “He is. He's pretty miserable right now. Feels like shit for calling me and dragging you into this.”