Take Me Home for Christmas (Whiskey Creek #5)(85)
Author: Brenda Novak

“I’m so sorry.” If she recognized Sophia’s name, she was too polite to let on.

Sophia managed a grateful smile. Anxiety tempted her to speak too fast, to push too hard, but she had to ease into this, act the part. “Thank you. Anyway, I didn’t know where he’d sent my ring, so I thought I’d lost that, too. Imagine my surprise and excitement when I came across this letter in a pile of discarded mail.” She showed the young woman what Mr. Hoover had sent her.

“Oh,” she murmured after reading it. “We’ve been wondering about this piece.” So she hadn’t recognized Sophia’s name, but the letter had reminded her. “Just a moment.”

Taking the letter with her, she went into the far corner where a man who seemed to be about sixty was working with a loupe. After she murmured in his ear, he lifted the loupe and looked over. Then he got out of his chair to come and speak with her.

“I’m Sam Hoover,” he said. “And you are…”

“Sophia DeBussi.”

“I’m sorry about your husband, Mrs. DeBussi. I remember hearing about what happened on the news. I’m sure it was tragic for you and your daughter, and it probably hasn’t gotten any easier since.”

“Truer words were never spoken.”

“To be honest, I thought I might be hearing from the FBI. But…they haven’t called. Maybe it’s because this is your wedding ring.”

Sophia was willing to bet they just hadn’t known where to find it. How would they if she didn’t?

“I’ll admit I have no knowledge of how a probe works,” he added.

“Neither do I, really,” she said. “Except they froze all my credit cards and bank accounts and took every other asset my husband and I owned. It’s been difficult to get by.”

“I bet.”

“Is my ring here?” she asked.

“Indeed.”

She let her breath seep out. “Then I’d like to claim it.”

“Of course. But…your husband wanted to sell it. I don’t suppose you have any interest in that.”

She cleared her throat. No doubt Mr. Hoover would receive a handsome commission for brokering the deal, which was probably why he hadn’t called the FBI. If he’d seen the news, it was odd that he’d sent a letter addressed to Skip. The one she’d received was dated two weeks after his death. But she didn’t mention that. Perhaps he’d been hoping to reach her—as, in fact, he had.

“Actually, I would be interested,” she said. “Like I told you, I’m in a very precarious situation.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures. I understand. I’ll contact my buyer, let him know the deal’s back on.”

“Can you tell me how long that might take?”

“A day, two at the most, provided I can reach him during the holidays.”

“So I might hear from you before Friday—Christmas Day?”

“It’s possible.”

“That would be wonderful since it would allow me to get a few gifts for my daughter.”

“I’ll call you as soon as I’ve received the funds, and you can come in and pick up a certified check. Meanwhile, you might want to open a bank account—” he lowered his voice “—in someone else’s name, just so you don’t send up any red flags.”

In other words, he thought the FBI might still be watching her. And maybe they were. She hadn’t heard from Agent Freeman since he’d left Whiskey Creek, but she didn’t know any more about how a probe worked than Sam Hoover did.

“Right. I’ll take that under advisement. Thank you,” she said. But the thought of having to go to such lengths to hide the money troubled her. She’d come here feeling she deserved to get something for what she’d been through with Skip. She’d been a loyal wife—even if she was unhappy. She’d seen that letter as the universe’s way of making life a little more fair. Nearly a quarter of a million dollars would give her safety, security, independence. All the things she’d lacked since Skip ran out on them; all the things she craved.

But setting up an account under a different name felt so…underhanded and sneaky, not all that different from what her late husband had done.

Did she really want to sink to his level?

* * *

Since Alexa was home that evening, Sophia didn’t spend the night with Ted. The three of them had dinner together, and Alexa admired the presents Sophia had wrapped and arranged under the tree. But at bedtime, they said goodnight and went their separate ways, like they had in the past. Then Sophia spent the next two hours with her daughter in the guesthouse, talking about all the fun Alexa’d had on the snowmobile trip, what she hoped was in those Christmas presents and what she might get for Royce. Alexa fell asleep around eleven and Sophia had been lying awake ever since—for an additional two hours—staring at the window that looked out on Ted’s house.

She missed him, wanted to feel his warm body beside her. Now that she knew their time was so limited, she hated the thought of wasting it and that left her too unsettled to sleep.

She considered calling Madge, her sponsor, a matronly and sympathetic woman. But she wasn’t particularly tempted by liquor. She just needed a distraction. Otherwise, she might give in and text or call Ted, who was proving to be a far more powerful addiction. Part of her insisted it wouldn’t hurt anything. The other part didn’t want him to know she couldn’t get through a single night without craving his touch. It made her fear that even if she took the money and ran, she’d never be happy without him.

“Go to sleep!” she ordered herself. But after another hour, she broke down and texted him.

I want you, she wrote.

His answer popped up almost immediately. Thought you’d never ask.

Relieved that he seemed be having just as much difficulty as she was, she smiled.

Is it safe to leave Alexa here alone?

If you lock up, she should be fine. I’ve never had any trouble out here. I’d come to you, but it might be awkward if she gets up during the night.

He was right; it had been humiliating when his mother walked in on them. I’ll be there in a minute.

He met her on the deck wearing nothing but a pair of jeans. “I thought I’d have to go all night without seeing you,” he said as he drew her into his arms.

“I was on my way in. You didn’t have to brave the cold.”

“I came to make sure you didn’t change your mind.”