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He nodded toward the end of the street where the two little girls had come out of their state of shock, apparently, and were now racing back to their house.
Even Remi, an expert marksman, wouldn’t have taken that shot. The only thing behind her target was Chad’s empty house. She tossed the knife into the trunk, slammed the lid closed. “Now that the fun’s over, I suppose we should get out of here before someone really does call the police.”
“You call that fun?” Oliver asked.
Chad’s mother planted her hands on her hips. “Will someone please tell me what is going on?”
34
Mum. Are you and Dad trying to steal from Uncle Albert?”
Allegra’s heart clenched as she saw Trevor standing there, holding the journal. She’d always known he was bright. She’d just hoped that he wouldn’t figure out things so quickly. To make matters worse, Dex walked in, looking at the two of them, his gaze landing on what was in Trevor’s hands.
She tried to step between the two, but her ex snatched the journal and slammed it in the boy’s face. “You want to accuse me of something? Then come talk to me instead of sniveling to your mother.” Dex swung the book back as if to strike him again.
“Stop it!” Allegra said, grabbing the journal from Dex.
“I’m okay, Mum.” Trevor wouldn’t even look at her. He reached up, touched his red cheek. “It’s fine.”
“See,” Dex said, taking the book from her and tucking it beneath his arm. He pulled a bottle of ale from the refrigerator. “You coddle him too much.”
“You promised you wouldn’t hurt him,” she said.
Dex glared at her. “Yeah, and you promised you’d keep him out of my business. That didn’t happen, now did it?”
How had this all gone so wrong? Obviously, she should never have answered the door when Dex suddenly appeared on her porch a
few months ago, telling her he was a changed man. She’d foolishly believed his lies about wanting to build a relationship with their son. And she’d brushed off his absurd reasons why he was interested in the Gray Ghost and the Payton family history. It wasn’t until Dex came up with the story about being threatened by this Arthur Oren—insisting that if she called the police, the man would kill him—that she began to question his motives. By the time she’d realized what was going on, why he’d spent the next few weeks pretending to be the perfect father to Trevor, it was too late.
When she’d tried to put a stop to everything, Dex pointed out how happy Trevor was with him there. Wasn’t she interested in securing the boy’s future? All she needed to do was make sure that her uncle placed the Gray Ghost in that car show, to help raise its value. Where was the harm in that? After all, her uncle needed to sell the car in order to save Payton Manor.
Foolishly, she’d believed him.
Even after the car was stolen, and her uncle arrested for murder, she hadn’t quite realized the depth of Dex’s involvement. After all, he was the one who brought her the papers to have Oliver sign over Payton Manor so that they could hire the best solicitor. He’d been so helpful, so caring. Had it not been for the Fargos’ timely arrival, Oliver would have gladly signed it.
It wasn’t until after the Fargos hired another solicitor that she took the time to actually read the document that Dex had given her. Her bruises were still healing from when she’d confronted him with her suspicions about who was behind the theft of the Ghost.
That she could handle.
It just never occurred to her that Dex would threaten to kill Trevor if she didn’t continue to cooperate.
That was all it took, and suddenly she was a blithering mess, getting in deeper and deeper, as Dex ran his scam. Naively, she’d thought that if her son never knew what was going on, Dex would get what he came after, then leave.
Just keep Trevor safe.
She looked over at her son, who had opened the refrigerator, his back to them, taking an abnormally long time to search through the three items within. Somehow, she’d fix this. All she needed to do was get him out of the house. “Trevor,” she said, “I need you to leave. Go stay with one of your friends.”
“The boy stays here,” Dex said.
“Now,” she ordered, in the voice she reserved for Do it or else. “You can come home when your father leaves. I’ll be okay.”
Trevor closed the fridge, turning toward her, the mark on his face still red. She saw the fright in his eyes and knew he didn’t believe her. He’d seen some of her bruises.
She didn’t care. “Go.”
Trevor started to edge away, and was nearly out of the kitchen, when Dex set his ale on the counter, pulled a gun, pointed it at her. “Maybe I wasn’t clear enough. The boy stays.”
Trevor froze, his face paling.