Seduced by Sunday
Page 69

“We don’t even know if Alonzo has Gabi . . . something else might have happened to both of them.”
Margaret laughed . . . a full-throat chuckle with a shake of her head. “I know for a fact that Alonzo spends more money than he makes. I know the winery makes next to nothing. If he makes money legitimately, it’s not on any books. What does that sound like to you, Val? And Gabi left with him and now nasty pictures of her follow a threat that we leave Italy immediately. There’s only one person who should be threatened by us being there . . . he’s guilty until proven innocent in this case.”
Val started to shake. “I introduced them, cara.”
Margaret’s voice softened. She moved to the seat beside him and took his hands in hers. “The man played both of you . . . my guess is he knew who you were before you said hello. There are a lot of sick people out there.”
If anything happened to his sister . . . if the pictures were any indication, it already had. “I’ll kill him.”
“Save it, Val. You’re not a murderer.”
“Watch me.”
Margaret shook her head. “They don’t offer coed bunking in prison. I’d be an accessory . . . it could get messy.”
Val tried to smile and failed. “You don’t do sleepovers.”
“I really don’t do sleepovers with Bertha in the top bunk. So let’s put killing talk out of the conversation. Let’s find them and pool the resources we have to get Gabi away from him.”
“My resources are limited. I can pay ransom . . . pay the help to get her back . . .”
Margaret tilted her head to the side. “Our resources, Val. Rick is on this like stink on Alonzo’s skin. Why? Because he works with Blake. The pictures of Michael can threaten Samantha’s business, which Alonzo knows nothing about . . . he’s stepped in something deeper than he’s prepared to understand. I don’t know if Alonzo is working with anyone else, but I doubt they have hands that reach as far as my boss and her friends. I have serious strings to pull . . . and the best part . . . these are decent people who would be thoroughly pissed that an innocent woman was at risk because of some asshat.”
He wanted to believe Gabi would return home unharmed . . . but that was looking less and less likely.
Seemed every time Michael returned, his childhood home shrank. The four-bedroom, two-story house seemed big enough growing up. The quiet street housed the same people since he was born. On occasion, someone would grow old and one of the kids would either take over the house, or move an aging parent in with them in the neighboring town.
Things didn’t change in Hilton, Utah.
Which was why Michael had chosen to leave as soon as he could.
He ran from his demons and put the truth on hold.
Now it was time to reveal everything to the two people who above all others deserved to know.
He exited his rental car, made his way to the front door as if he were walking in quicksand.
He waited until after his father had closed up the hardware store for the night to make sure he only had to have this conversation once. Surviving it twice might prove impossible.
Someone inside clicked on the porch light before he made his way to the door. He hesitated, not sure if he should knock or walk right in. His parents were empty nesters now. Hannah, the youngest, was off in college. His oldest sister, Rena, lived across town with her husband and two kids.
The house was virtually empty.
He vacillated on that thought when his mother opened the front door with a surprised gasp. “Mike!” She scrambled out of the door and wrapped her arms around him. “Sawyer,” she called into the house. “Look who’s here.”
“Hey, Mom.”
She pulled him inside, her smile genuine and filled with surprise. “I can’t believe you’re here. Why didn’t you tell us you were coming? I could have put fresh sheets on your bed.”
They stepped into the living room that hadn’t changed since the eighties. The couch with the bad spring still sat in the middle of the room, his father’s favorite chair to the side of it. The television Michael had bought, and he and Zach had hung above the fireplace, was one of the only modern pieces in the house.
His parents liked it like that. Comfortable, familiar.
“Last-minute decision,” he explained.
Heavy footfalls moved down the stairs. Michael’s father had always been a robust man, a real man’s man who worked with his hands, liked crawling under cars, and would disapprove beyond any doubt of Michael’s sexuality.
The two of them had come to an understanding in the past few years. His father hadn’t completely approved of his profession in the beginning, but seemed to come to terms with it after Michael’s fake marriage to Karen.
Michael had returned to Utah a few times since his divorce. Holidays and weddings always drove those visits, and there was plenty of family to buffer any adversity.
There was none of that now.
“Hi, Dad.”
A greeting that used to be a simple handshake was now a short hug. “What brings my youngest son home unannounced?”
“I can’t stop by to visit?”
Sawyer shook his head. “Unannounced? Do movie stars do that?”
“I’ve been your son longer than I’ve been on the big screen. I hope it’s OK I’m here. I would hate to interrupt poker night.”
“That’s Wednesday,” they both said at the same time.
They laughed, sat, and his mom asked if he wanted something to drink . . . and no he wasn’t hungry. The pleasantries of conversation quickly drifted to silence, making the crickets outside fill the sound on the inside.