Broken Halo: The Montgomery Series, Book 2 Page 4

  “Don’t be that way—I just got off an hour ago.”

  I scrape my hand down my face. “Fucking parole. What the hell did Ray Barrett do to get an early out? I had five more years of him rotting away behind bars to look forward to.”

  I hear him come to a stop, working to catch his breath. “Told you he’s been walking the straight and narrow as far as everyone could see. I’ve heard chatter, but the masses were scared of him—he was no one’s bitch, that’s for sure. Far as I can tell, he got everyone to do his bidding and didn’t have to get his hands dirty. Doesn’t take much to get parole, not when we’re bursting at the seams.”

  “Great,” I mutter.

  “What can I say? Business is good,” he quips and I roll my eyes. “Does this mean you’re not a client anymore? ‘Cause I can’t lie, I’m bummed. I like you—you pay on time.”

  “I want to know where he’s living, if he has a job, and who his parole officer is. The way I see it, I’ve been paying you for years and you got me this information a week late. You owe me.”

  “Dude, I took a vacation—”

  “I don’t remember signing a contract for vacation time. I want to know if Ray Barrett takes a shit outside the Huntsville city limits so you’d better be on the phone with me before he has time to flush. If you can’t do that, I’ll find someone who can.”

  He answers quickly. “No. I want your money.”

  “And I want timely information, Charlie. The next time you decide to take a break, find someone to cover for you.”

  This time he doesn’t hesitate. “Yes, sir.”

  I don’t wish him well or offer a goodbye. I toss my cell to the desk before standing. What a day.

  “You should go home.”

  I turn and find Jen Montgomery, my new boss, standing in the doorway. “I didn’t know you came back. Thought you would’ve stayed with your sister.”

  Jen hikes a brow. “You can say her name, you know.”

  “Trust me, I said her name plenty this afternoon while I was on the phone with CPS and the Plano PD. The stick-up-her-ass from CPS isn’t going to do me any favors, so I’m hunting down the officers who were there.”

  She gives the doorframe her weight and shakes her head. “I’ll let you know if Eli digs up anything on Robert’s parents. And for your information, Ellie wasn’t exaggerating—her in-laws are controlling assholes and this is the only way they can hit her where it’ll hurt. Thank you for going today, I know you didn’t want to.”

  Jen knows nothing about what I want.

  “Seriously, go home. I feel bad you came in after your mom’s funeral.” She holds her hand out low and gives me a small smile. “Just going on record here, I told you not to come in at all today, but given what happened, I’m selfishly glad you were here.”

  I wish I would’ve stayed home, but I don’t say so. “Your name’s on my paycheck. I hail to the House of Montgomery again, remember?”

  “I’m not going to give you shit about being so salty given your day.” She hitches her bag up her shoulder. “You really do need a dog, though.”

  I ignore that, too, and turn to my desk.

  As she leaves, I hear her call from the hall outside my office, “Go home, Trig.”

  I’m not going home. I pick up my cell one more time and skim through my messages until I find the number I need.

  My realtor.

  It shouldn’t bother me to sell my mom’s house. I bought it for her five years ago as soon as I could swing two house payments so she could finally have something to call her own when she was willing to retire. She moved in with the family she worked for when I left for California. They loved her, had plenty of room, and were happy to have her there. But when their daughter went off to college, my mom was able to retire and I made sure the next phase of her life was a good one.

  She tried to stop me from doing it.

  Then she tried to help pay for it, which she couldn’t even if she’d wanted to.

  That was right before she broke down in tears thanking me for it—for giving her something beautiful. She tore at my heart a little more as her tears bled into my shirt when she fell into my chest, going on about how much beauty she had in her life.

  If anyone knew my mother, they’d wonder what beauty she was talking about because her life was about as ugly as they came.

  I should know. I lived it with her until my dad went away. I never thought it was possible that it could get uglier, but it sure as hell did.

  So, the minute I could afford to, I put her in a home bigger than her dreams and far away from the shit she endured with my dad. I bought her a bigger house than she needed but was damned determined to make sure she had the best.

  It was worth every penny and the blood, sweat, and lack of sleep from working seventy hours a week to double-time my way up the chain. Never did I think I’d land my ass here, on the top floor of the Montgomery high-rise. With the package Jen gave me, I could pay that house off, keep my condo, and buy two vacation properties on opposite sides of the Earth if I felt the urge.

  But I don’t have time for any of that shit.

  As much as it turns my stomach, I press call to put the process in motion. I don’t know when I’ll have time to go through her stuff but the thought of hiring someone to come in and do that feels wrong.

  I make an appointment with the realtor for next week. After burying my mom today, that’s the soonest I can stomach it.

  And my fucking father is out of jail. If he even thinks about wandering into town, I don’t know what I’ll do.

  Then there’s Ellie.

  Making eye contact with her today for the first time in ten years was enough to throw me into a tailspin, but walking into her house? Actually speaking to her, sharing the air she breathes … was almost too much. It brought back everything.

  Every fucking moment, the good ones, and especially the ugly ones that’re seared into my soul, are wounds still as raw as the day they were carved there. By the way she acted toward me today, it seems she feels the same … though I’m not sure why.

  She was the one who made decisions for both of us.

  Our nightmare might’ve begun because of me, but she was the one who ended it and she did it with a finality that can never be reversed.

  We not only lost each other, we lost everything else, too.

  * * *

  Ellie

  “Do you need some help?”

  I look across my desk at the girl I’m interviewing for my office manager position. I brought Griffin with me today because, honest to God, after yesterday, I’m afraid to take my eyes off him. I was about to leave him with Chloe this morning, but in the end, I just couldn’t do it and gave her the day off. Again. Carl and Teresa have always had their cruel, passive-aggressive ways, but the day Robert died, they ditched the passive and the aggressive. Now, they’re nothing but hostile.

  Griffin slept better last night but he’s late for his nap and this chick is eyeing me like she’s not sure the job will be worth the effort when her potential boss can’t even get it together enough to conduct a simple job interview. I’m pretty sure my parents ran out of brainiac genes by the time they had me. I have no idea how Jen runs an entire corporation, and if it weren’t for his lack of patience with people in general, my brother, Cam, could’ve done it if he’d wanted to. He runs his own business and makes it look like a walk in the park with a new wife, cooperative children, and obedient pets.

  I, however, am in over my head and don’t know what to do about it. I’d throw in the towel and call it quits if I weren’t in desperate need for a distraction from every-fucking-thing right now. With construction banging all around me, no proper office, no phones, no signage, and sawdust dancing through the air, I see why this girl—barely old enough to be a woman—might think I need help. I can see why anyone would think that.

  Basically, I’m in desperate need of everything.

  “I know things seem a little haywire.” I look down at her résumé be
cause this is the sixth interview today and I can’t keep anyone’s name straight at this point, “Quinn.” Odd name, but whatever. I come from a long line of weird-ass names. Quinn is put together and making the best possible impression, unlike me, who’s frazzled on a good day. I reach over for Griff’s sippy cup and he finally quits wrestling in my arms and devours his juice. I give up and a tired breath escapes my lungs. “You know what? Yes. Yes, I do. I need a helluva lot of help. Your résumé says you’ve had experience with payroll?”

  She tips her dark-haired head and her eyes slide to the side. She almost winces when she looks back at me. “I helped with payroll in my last job. I guess I should have specified that.”

  I can’t help but give her a small smile. Her résumé isn’t impressive in the slightest and the only reason I called her for an interview was because of the payroll experience, but now that she’s here, I can’t help but like her. She’s young, friendly, and just proved she’s honest. I need honesty in my life right now more than I need legal representation.

  Who am I kidding? I need both.

  “You’ve had a lot of jobs,” I note as I hold the résumé up and look at the long list of part-time positions she’s held in the last year alone. On paper it doesn’t look good, but for some reason I don’t care. Don’t even ask me about the other applicants. Their experience might be more impressive but they were more watered down than light beer. I don’t have the desire to share conversation with them over a cup of coffee, let alone work with them every day.

  She shifts in her pencil skirt, not able to hide the discomfort radiating from her in waves. “I have two years of college under my belt, but it didn’t take. Despite my parents pushing me, I just couldn’t do it anymore. I’m a hard worker—I swear. I just want something full-time in a small office.”

  Authentic and candid. I like it.

  And from one drop-out to another, that’s something I can understand.

  I toss her résumé to the desk and lean back in my chair because Griffin is starting to give in to his lack of sleep. “Well, compared to me, you’re a payroll genius. I know dance—that’s it. Hopefully I’ll be able to pull off one or two recitals a year but I don’t know if I’m organized enough to even do that on my own. I need to learn all the things. Are you willing to figure them out with me?”

  Quinn’s young eyes light up. “I am.”

  “Then it looks like you and I are gonna fuck things up together before we get it right.”

  “Thank you, Ellie.”

  There’s an innocence about her I find pleasing. If I’m honest with myself, I’m even envious of it.

  I tip my head. “I’m sure this is against some employment law, but how old are you?”

  She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. “Are you going to renege the job offer?”

  “Wow. That would be a shitty thing to do, huh? Nope, I’m just nosy.”

  Her shoulders relax. “I’ll be twenty-four.”

  “Soon?”

  She raises her thick, arched brow and bites down on her lip. “Well, not that soon.”

  I look down where Griffin’s whole body has sunk into mine and I pry the sippy cup out of his little hands. I glance back up and give my first employee a ghost of a smile. “I feel an eternity older than you. Even so, I know nothing about running a business, so thank you for taking a chance on me.”

  For the first time since she walked into my building, she takes a deep breath and is wearing a look of satisfaction mixed with a weird happiness. She levels her eyes on me and promises, “I’m so excited. You won’t regret it. I swear.”

  I can’t start talking about regrets with this sweet, young girl or she’ll run for the hills—as she should—if she knew anything about me. Classes begin in a little over a month and I already have students signed up. I need real help—the kind that calls for getting your hands dirty and putting in some long hours. When Quinn promises to be a hard worker, I need that to be true more than she knows.

  Instead, I try not to look desperate and act like I’ve got a little bit of my shit together. “It’s gonna be great—I promise.”

  4

  Out of Body Experience

  Be brave. Just when I thought life was bad, God went and gifted me with the biggest problem I could imagine, right on my doorstep.

  Ellie

  I pull through the gates to my neighborhood after a long day at the studio trying to juggle Griffin, a slew of interviews, and my contractors. Had I known my life was going to flip topsy-turvy, upside-down, I never would’ve bought the damn building to begin with. There are days I don’t want to leave my house. And I hate that house so that’s saying something. But I have students enrolled and Eli just sublet the entire upstairs of my studio as office space for his new PI company. There’s no backing out now—I’m a real estate investor, a business owner, a dance instructor, and, now, a landlord.

  And since dance is the only thing I know, I’m screwed.

  Griffin finally fell into a deep sleep this afternoon and now he’s back to his chipper little self—the only being on earth right now who makes me happy. He squeals from his car seat as he plays with a toy.

  “I need to start shopping for your birthday, baby. Do you want to have your party at the ranch with the horses?”

  Griffin doesn’t answer, but he does gurgle, “Da-da.”

  I groan internally and turn into my neighborhood.

  “Mama,” I correct him and go on. “I’m going to throw you the biggest party and you’ll have your own cake and your grandparents will spoil you with all kinds of stuff you don’t need.”

  “Ball.”

  “You want a ball? What about a basketball? A football?” I’m about to chatter on, but when I make the last turn onto my street, my breath catches.

  Shit.

  They’re back?

  I’ve decided to make it my life’s mission to do everything I can to avoid Trig Barrett. I made Jen fill me in this morning on my case and she told me that Trig had been in touch with the officers who showed up at my house and tried to reach out to CPS on my behalf. Jen told me nothing was happening and I shouldn’t worry.

  I grab my phone and dial my sister, creeping down my street to buy myself a few precious seconds.

  She finally answers. “Hey, what’s up? I’m about to go into a dinner meeting, can I call—”

  “They’re back,” I snap, watching them watch me pull into my drive. My heart is racing all over again.

  “Wait. What?” I can tell she’s stopped in her tracks. “Who? CPS?”

  “Yes, dammit.” I pull into the garage. “What do I do?”

  After a pause that feels like a lifetime as I sit here parked next to my dead husband’s Jag that I still haven’t gotten rid of, I finally hear the clicks of her shoes quicken. “I’m in north Plano, not far. I’ll cancel my dinner and be on my way. Whatever you do, don’t be a bitch.”

  I glance into my rearview mirror and see Paula stalking up my circle drive, on a mission that doesn’t look good, ushered by three uniformed officers this time. “That’s your advice? Don’t be a bitch?”

  “You know what I mean. Be cooperative. I’ll be there in fifteen—less if I can get through traffic.”

  She hangs up, not giving me a moment to complain or freak out further. Meanwhile, Paula and her troops are hovering like hawks at sunset, making me feel like nothing but rotten roadkill.

  I turn off my car and get out, barely offering them a glance. She has dragged along different police officers today. I open the back door and reach into the middle and unbuckle Griffin from his rear-facing car seat.

  “If you could be happy for just a few minutes, Mommy will give you cookies after dinner,” I whisper. This makes him smile. His vocabulary might only include ten to twenty words, but he sure can understand everything I say.

  If only he understood the art of bribery as well as he knows vanilla wafers.

  “Mrs. Ketteman.” Paula approaches and extends her hand.

&nbs
p; In an effort not to be a bitch, I shift Griff to my left arm to accept her greeting, but I can’t help that mine isn’t warm and I’m definitely not offering her any cookies. “I wasn’t aware you needed any further information from me. You could have called.”

  She gives me a self-righteous leer that I would thoroughly enjoy wiping from her face with the palm of my hand. “Well, yes, that was yesterday. I’m afraid there has been some new light shed on the investigation and we were wondering if we could come in again.”

  I tip my head. “Why?”

  She raises a thin brow and looks down her nose at me. “There have been some additional claims made against you for the possession of illegal substances.”

  I take a step back. “Excuse me?”

  “Illegal substances,” she repeats, as if I really did miss what she said the first time. “Now, we don’t have a warrant … yet. You obviously appear to be a caring mother and upstanding citizen. You can give us consent to search and if we find nothing, then this claim will go away as quickly as it popped up. If we have to get a warrant … well … that will drag things out and,” she shakes her head, “not look good for you.”

  “You want to search my house for drugs?” I’m not sure I could be more shocked if JT himself waltzed up my driveway to announce he’s getting the old band back together.

  “Like I said,” she waves her hand toward the officers, “if they don’t find anything, this will all go away, and quickly. It just depends on how fast you’d like to get through the process. Or, of course, in case you have something to hide…”

  She lets that thought die off into the thick air hanging between us that has nothing to do with the Texas humidity.

  I don’t want them in my house going through my things but I have nothing to hide. I haven’t even had a drink since Robert died—I’ve had no desire to weaken my senses. Instead, I’ve felt the need to endure every tortured wound he left behind in an effort to remember every mistake I’ve made along the way—I deserve that. It hasn’t been a fun four months but neither were the three years prior when he was wasting perfectly good oxygen in the world.