Falling Fast (Falling Fast #1) Page 4

  How did this asshole with the Napoleon complex know about his loan requests? Dumb question. Chambliss was a small town when it came to the natives. Raleigh pushed on by.

  Cassidy clutched his shoulder. “Hey, assault on an officer!”

  Raleigh didn’t even look back, just scratched the back of his head and subtly flipped him off as he headed to his car.

  Cassidy had always been a bully. Raleigh knew it was because his father bullied him, but that was no excuse to go around being an ass. All through school, Raleigh had intervened when Cassidy tried to assert power over the younger, smaller kids. Which had, no doubt, humiliated Cassidy, who was smaller and younger than Raleigh. It was no surprise that he’d become a cop, so that he could continue to abuse his power.

  Raleigh’s cellphone rang. The garage’s number filled the screen, and he answered.

  “Someone suing you?” Peter asked in his gruff voice.

  “What?”

  “That lawyer, Shatke, just called here for you.”

  Raleigh glanced across the street at the Greek restaurant, where Mia was getting out of the car. Holding her hair in the breeze. “Give me the number.” Her father had threatened to sue Raleigh all those years ago until he figured out that there was no squeezing blood from a rock. Raleigh had offered to give him everything he’d saved up to that point, a thousand dollars hidden away in a Bible. Mia’s father had told him to forget it.

  “Maybe your lady friend left you something. Like her car?”

  “No. She’d already made plans to deed it to Meals on Wheels. With a stipend for maintenance to be performed by me at the garage. She’s probably giving me a lounge chair.”

  “Whaaa?”

  Raleigh smiled, thinking of the conversations he and Nancy had had about her leaving him the lounge chair he favored when he collapsed after a labor-intensive day at her house. Wrought-iron metal, fluffy cushion the color of rust, and it fit his big frame perfectly.

  Nancy didn’t have a lot of money. She said she’d escaped her cold marriage to a wealthy man with just enough to buy an old cottage on the Gulf. That was all she wanted.

  “Be back in a bit,” Raleigh said, rubbing his chest at the memories of the sweet lady. He disconnected and called the attorney’s office. The secretary scheduled a meeting for three o’clock to “handle some paperwork.” Seemed pretty elaborate for a lounge chair, but hey, they had to earn their money, he supposed. He grabbed a sub and headed back to the garage, knowing he’d need to make up the extra time.

  He did the whole cleanup thing again a couple of hours later and drove into the refurbished part of town with the brick buildings and clusters of doctors’ offices and professionals’ businesses. Raleigh wasn’t sure he could ever be that kind of guy, with the dress shirt and tie, sitting at a desk all day. He loved digging into an engine, figuring out the mystery, making it purr again. Or roar. Yeah, he especially loved to make cars roar.

  When was the last time you roared?

  He pushed the door open, leaving that annoying question behind as he stepped into the understated lobby. The receptionist glanced up, then did a double take, her professional smile warming considerably. “Hello there. May I help you?”

  “I have an appointment with Mr. Shatke. I’m Raleigh West.”

  “Raleigh West,” she said, as though she were rolling the name around in her mouth like a piece of chocolate. She fiddled with her light-blond hair as she made a call, her blue eyes on him the whole time. “Mr. Shatke, Mr. West here to see you…yes, sir.” She hung up. “Come with me. I’ll take you to conference room two.”

  It sounded like a more intimate invitation. He might have been interested in the little blonde last week. Before he’d seen Mia again. But now even the girl’s purposeful sway of her ass didn’t stir him.

  She opened the door and waved him in. “Coffee? Soda or water?”

  “I’m good, thanks.”

  “I bet you are,” she murmured before quickly darting out and closing the door, her cheeks red.

  He shook his head, laughing softly. Not as brave as she’d like to be. Just as well. Raleigh was nowhere near the mood for a casual interlude. Or anything more.

  “No damned way! This is an outrage!”

  “Sir—”

  A door slammed open in the hallway. Raleigh jumped up and opened the door to see if anyone needed help.

  “I’ll see my own attorney before I—” Mia’s enraged father shook off an older man’s attempt at calming him. His gray eyes bulged when he spotted Raleigh. “You! You slimy son of a bitch!” He rushed forward, hands outstretched.

  Chambliss wasn’t the mean streets by any means, but Raleigh had handled his share of tyrants. They’d been worse in jail. Instinct kicked in, and he deflected the man’s swinging fists.

  “What’d you do, seduce an old woman to get her money?” the man screamed as he tried again to punch.

  Raleigh had to check his own violent reaction to being attacked, calmly twisting the man, bending his arm behind his back, and pushing him against the wall. Behind him, the man’s wife and Mia stepped into the hallway, their expressions horrified.

  Raleigh leaned close to his ear. “I don’t want to hurt you, sir. Chill out.” Then the words he’d shouted registered. Seduce an old woman? Seriously?

  The older man rushed forward. “Gentlemen, please.” He eased Mia’s father away. “Mr. Wentworth, calm down, sir.” He brushed his hands across the man’s rumpled shirt sleeves and let out a beleaguered sigh as he took everyone in. “I suppose we should all sit down and discuss this together now. If we can be civil.”

  Raleigh raised his hands. “As long as I’m not attacked.” He glanced at Mia, whose head was bowed, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose in embarrassment.

  “I’m Ben Shatke,” the attorney said, sticking out his hand briefly and shaking Raleigh’s before gesturing toward another conference room.

  Mr. Wentworth didn’t go without jabbing his finger at Raleigh. “This will never fly. I will crush your little scheme in court, punk.”

  Over a freakin’ lounge chair?

  Raleigh met Mia’s gaze just before she stepped out of her father’s way. Even with the chaos and confusion, his heart leaped. The attorney put his hand on Raleigh’s back to guide him to the chair on the opposite side of the long table from Mr. Wentworth. He then took the seat between the men, with Mia on the right side of the table next to her mother.

  Raleigh couldn’t look at her big brown eyes, the wisps of hair that had escaped from the hair clip she’d used to pile it atop her head. He forced his gaze to the attorney, but Mrs. Wentworth stole his attention first.

  “You ruined our lives. Ruined my daughter’s life.” Her eyes narrowed. “And now this.”

  Mr. Wentworth said, “My mother was obviously senile. Or one of those lonely older women who fall prey to con men.”

  “Sir,” Raleigh said, keeping his voice modulated despite the fact that he wanted to reach over and shake the man. “If the chaise lounge means that much to you, keep it.” Maybe she’d left him the whole set, but he knew the man’s outrage had nothing to do with the furniture. It was their hatred of him, of who he was, and what he’d done to Mia.

  His gaze started drifting to her when Shatke said, “I don’t believe it’s the deck furniture that’s at issue here.”

  “I didn’t think it was.”

  “It’s the half share of her home.”

  For a second, the sound of the ocean filled Raleigh’s ears and drowned out Mr. Wentworth pounding his fist on the table, Mrs. Wentworth rolling her eyes and nattering on, and Mia, looking shell-shocked herself but saying nothing.

  Raleigh cleared the roar and turned to the attorney. “Excuse me, what did you say?”

  “Mrs. Nancy Wentworth left you and Mia equal shares in the house. This was where we, er, took a break.” Shatke referenced the papers in front of him. “In her words: ‘To my granddaughter, who has suffered more than her fair share in life, and to Raleigh We
st, another kind soul who has suffered his own share of unfairness, I bequeath—stupid language—equal shares in my Chambliss home. Raleigh, I know that you started helping me as a way to atone for what happened to Mia, but your friendship grew to something much more meaningful.’ “

  “Sick son of a bitch!” Mia’s father snarled.

  Shatke placed a hand on the man’s arm and kept reading as though he hadn’t been interrupted. “ ‘You became the grandson I never had, taking care of an old lady, making her laugh…and feel loved. You’re a good boy, and you deserve a break at last. A way to make your dreams come true. Don’t be sentimental. Mia, Raleigh, work on fixing up the house together and then sell it. Raleigh knows what needs to be done; goodness knows he’s been trying to get me to redo the deck and front porch for years. Of course, you were right; the deck is a hazard.’ “

  “It was,” Raleigh said. “I redid both of them three months ago.”

  Shatke flicked a glance at Mr. Wentworth before continuing. “ ‘I just didn’t want to lose the use of it for even a week, not when time is so precious. And limited. The funds in my bank account should cover everything. Raleigh has been wonderful at keeping the place in good shape. And making an old lady happy in her final years.’ “

  “I bet,” Mr. Wentworth muttered, aiming a vile look at Raleigh.

  At least that’s what he interpreted out of his peripheral vision, because Raleigh was glued to Mia. Her eyes were wide, lower lip clamped between her teeth, but otherwise he couldn’t tell what she thought.

  “ ‘Preston, stop glowering,’ “Shatke said, then blinked at the man’s shocked look as his head whipped around to the attorney, who pointed to the document. “That’s what your mother wrote. ‘Your britches will no doubt be in a twist over this. Raleigh didn’t coerce, charm, or seduce me. I know that’s what you’ll think. You see, you’re just like your father. And, Marie, get your panties out of your ass crack, too. I’m not doing this to get the kids back together. But I do want them to have some closure, something you prevented.’ “

  Mia gave her mother an “I told you so” look. Then her eyebrows furrowed. “What does she mean by ‘something you prevented’?”

  “They threw my letters out,” Raleigh said.

  “You were in no shape to deal with him after the crash,” her mother said. “Emotionally or physically. We were only protecting you. Look at what he’d already done.”

  Raleigh’s fingers curled on the table’s wood surface, guilt eating at him.

  Mia shot her parents an accusatory look. “Did you—?” She turned to Raleigh. “Did you get the letter I sent to Grandma to forward to you?”

  Raleigh’s heart lifted. She’d written to him? “No.”

  Mia turned back to her parents, but her father said, “Again, we were protecting you. It was better to sever the connection altogether.”

  “You took my letter out of the mailbox and opened it? Read it?” Her voice was shrill.

  “Perhaps this is something you should discuss at a later time,” Mr. Shatke said. “Shall I proceed?”

  “Is there anything else?” Mr. Wentworth gritted out.

  Shatke leaned over the document again. “ ‘The contents of my home shall be divided between Mia, Marie, and Preston, or sold at your discretion. The deck furniture goes to Raleigh. My car goes to the Chambliss Meals on Wheels. I hope that good can come from my passing. I’ve had a great, long life. Please don’t be sad.’ “He looked up. “That’s all.”

  Raleigh stood. “I’ll sign the house over to Mia. I just want the lounge chair.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mia’s mouth drop open, but he kept his gaze steady on the attorney. “Draw up the papers.”

  “Are you sure?” Shatke stood, too. “That’s a substantial—”

  “I’m sure,” Raleigh said, even as his insides caved. The money that would secure his loan. But it wasn’t his money, not really. And he didn’t want a long fight with Mia’s parents. Just as he’d accepted a plea deal on the reckless-driving charges so she wouldn’t have to testify, he would back down to keep her from being in the middle of this snarl. He finally looked at her. “I’ll go over, assess what needs to be done, and give you contact information for contractors who can do the work. I’m glad to help in any way that I can.”

  He left, hearing utter silence in the room behind him. He would not let her parents think he’d conned Nancy out of anything, or, even more disgusting, seduced her for it. He found a smile as he stepped outside. She had known her son would stoop that low.

  His smile continued as he thought about the letter Mia had sent. What had it said? How might things be different if he’d received it? That sure stole his smile. They might have gotten closure a long time ago. Maybe they’d even be friends.

  When he returned to the shop, Peter asked, “So? Did she leave you the stash of cash in her mattress?”

  Raleigh managed a smile. “Just the deck furniture.” He changed into his coveralls and went back to work on the SUV at his station. How long would he be here in this space? Wearing the PETE’S GARAGE logo on his uniform? The import mechanic on the other side of town had offered him a job if this place closed, but he couldn’t let Raleigh work on his own cars after hours. Liability or some such shit. Tweaking high-performance cars was his high nowadays. What he really wanted to focus on, and on his own terms. He wasn’t giving that up.

  Mia flashed into his mind. She’d been his high once. And, dammit, he still felt it whenever he saw her. Memories flickered through his mind like a commercial for a movie. Her squealing in delight when he flew down the abandoned strip of highway, the wind whipping through the open windows. The first time he’d taken her to the Airstream travel trailer parked in the middle of five acres of woods, scared that she’d see him for the poor, nothing boy he was. But she’d run through the tall grass in the field nearby, her arms outstretched. He’d chased after her, catching her around the waist and spinning her in his arms. She’d looked down at him, her hands on his cheeks, and he’d let her slide down his body until their mouths connected.

  This patch of scrub pines and grasses had been a paradise to her. No roar of traffic. No light pollution. Only the spray of diamonds against a coal-black sky and a chorus of crickets.

  He leaned against the side of his car. Dammit, forget that. Forget all that. You’re going to make the list of work to be done, along with the people you trust to do it, and hand it to her. He wanted to give her closure. But there was a part of him that wanted something completely different. It wanted an opening.

  Chapter 4

  Her parents had pulled the “everything you put us through” card, effectively shutting up Mia’s protests about their deception. Of course, they’d only been trying to protect her, as they’d always done, blah-blah-blah.

  She stood on the back deck, seeing the faint lines of foam where the waves rolled up onto the shore. In the dark, with hardly any moonlight, that was the only evidence of the ocean, apart from the sounds. The beach seemed to disappear into inky darkness, punctuated by one lone light bobbing on the horizon.

  Thank God her parents didn’t want to stay here. They had gotten a room at the nicest hotel in town, much nicer than the surviving motels on “the strip,” as the kids called the main road that ran parallel to the Gulf. The road still bore the pastel-colored shacks with shells and the open-air restaurants that boasted fried shrimp and rum runners. All of that was where the dredging’s effects hadn’t reached. North of that, where the sand had been pumped in, sat a line of name-brand hotels and high-rise condos.

  Nancy’s cottage was just south of those, and had benefited a little from the downwash of that sand. Sand that Mother Nature was inexorably pulling back into the Gulf of Mexico. Mia could see the smattering of lights and was doubly grateful that her parents were there and not here. They thought she was odd to want to stay here alone, with ghosts from the past.

  Maybe Mia hoped Raleigh would stop by, especially now that she knew that was his car she’
d seen the night they arrived. She’d watched him walk to his car after he left the attorney’s office, his fingers at his temples. While her father pressed Shatke to draw up the papers for Raleigh to sign over his inheritance to her, Mia had slipped out to get a drink of water and gone right to the front window.

  Raleigh had looked shocked at the meeting, clearly not expecting Nancy to leave him half of the house. Or say the things she’d said about him. But why, why would he offer to sign over that much money? Mia didn’t understand. That money could change his life. Was he still trying to atone for the accident?

  Mia turned back to the house, fully lit inside, warm and welcoming. “Well, Grandma, you wanted me to get closure. That’s what I’m going to do. Because my parents stole my letter to Raleigh. It galls me. No, forget that. It pisses me off. All these years I thought he was too hurt or angry to respond. I’ve been beating myself up for hanging up.”

  She was in the rental car forty minutes later, having applied makeup, brushed her wind-tossed hair, and tried on a dozen outfits…pretty much everything she’d brought.

  All chosen with seeing Raleigh in mind, her conscience taunted.

  No point in denying it. Mia had the roof down, the convertible a counterpoint to the grief and guilt with which she’d been wrestling. Her heart started hammering even before she spotted the garage. The inside lights were on. A midnight-blue classic muscle car was parked out front. Just like the old days.

  Except this was nothing like the old days. So much had happened since then. They’d grown up. Changed. Heck, he could be married, for all she knew. Engaged. Seeing someone, at the least.

  The thought dinged her heart even as she told herself that it was for the best. It would make things easier, for sure. Put her memories where they belonged: in the past. She was here for business, after all, not reminiscing. Still, so much crammed into her brain, words that wanted to be said. Apologies, thank-yous.

  I loved you so much.

  God, no, not that. They’d never exchanged those words. She suspected they weren’t words he used or heard much, as rarely as she did. With summer coming to an end, along with their romance, it seemed pointless to declare something so monumental. Once, she thought he might say it. He’d been looking at her so deeply, his mouth open, and he’d said, “Mia, I love…” He’d cleared his throat. “I loved being with you this summer. I wish it wouldn’t end.”