Reservations

By Sally Thomson

Meagan and Jack are back in this sequel to Lunch Date. Packed with more suspense, more danger, and more romance, Reservations continues the rocky relationship between Meagan and Jack, possibly the worst man she could fall in love with. Returned from a four-month absence, Jack expects to pick up where they left off, which is not all right with Meagan. When she gets tangled in a kidnapping, Meagan is forced to turn to Jack for help. Events conspire to not only put Meagan and Jack in jeopardy, but throw them together so that she must once again choose to either trust her heart and give her love to Jack, or go with her head and run as far as she can the other way.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Feb 21, 2015
• ISBN: 9781503546073

Sally Thomson

A teacher by trade, Sally spends her spare time writing. She was born in the city but lives in the country with her family and lots of animals. She would love to hear from you. To contact Sally email [e-mail].

Book preview

*Chapter 1*

Can I sit down? said a voice above me.

Oh, no.

I closed my eyes, fork full of salad halted halfway to my mouth.

Not again.

I looked up slowly, into a pair of the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. Same eyes. Also same tousled hair, strong features, and heartbreaking smile that oozed innocence and hid the darkness within.

I’m waiting for someone, I said, annoyed at the tremble in my voice, then added, a little more definitely, I’m sure you can find someone else to fall for your story, whatever it is this time.

Ignoring me, he pulled out a chair, sat down, and leaned forward intimately. Talk about déjà vu.

I understand how you feel, he began, but I held up my hand, which unfortunately still held the fork of lettuce. It promptly slid off and made a pile on top of the condiment holder. Undaunted, I plowed on.

No, you don’t know how I feel. And you have no right to barge into my life again. So get lost. Go bother some other naive fool.

I busied myself with clearing the lettuce and carrot shavings off the salt and pepper shakers and didn’t look at him.

He still didn’t get the hint.

Look, I can see you’re angry at me, but hear me out. I can explain everything.

I set my fork down slowly and deliberately, then wiped my mouth with my napkin, although I had yet to take a bite of food. I looked straight into his eyes, amazed that I had the courage to.

I’m not mad. I don’t want to talk to you. Please, just leave me alone.

Again the wobble in my voice, which I couldn’t seem to control. But I meant every word I said… I hoped. Jack just sat there, staring at me. I held his gaze for a long moment, but then had to look down, praying that he couldn’t see the wobble in my heart.

It wasn’t fair of him, showing up like this, after four months of silence. Sitting down as if nothing had happened. Expecting to take up where we left off.

But I was determined it wasn’t going to work that way. I refused to be tossed around like some ball, bouncing to his whim. I had moved on, as hard as that had been. I had accepted that he was gone.

And now here he was again, same old Jack, same old line. I would not be sucked into his game this time.

I would not.

If you won’t leave, I will, I said, leaning forward and speaking with conviction this time, and I even believed me. I stood up, threw a twenty on the table, and walked away, each mud-sucking step getting lighter than the last.

I thought he was going to be a gentleman and let me go. But I was wrong. Like I’d been wrong four long months ago, thinking he cared about me. That he would stay beside me and be someone I could lean on.

He caught me at the door, stepping in front to bar the way out. Pushing him out of the way screamed no control, but I was seriously considering it when the door behind him opened and my date walked in.

Meagan? Cindy said, looking from me to Jack and back again before realizing who it was. Then she turned on him.

What are you doing here? she asked, hands going to her hips and eyes flashing. Don’t tell me he tried to join you for lunch again?

Yes, and I was just leaving. Let’s have lunch somewhere else.

Now we both turned to glare at Jack. He knew when to give in and slowly stepped aside. We walked past him and out the door, my back straight and stiff and unyielding. He didn’t try to follow.

In silent agreement we went over to Cindy’s car and got in, both knowing I was in no condition to drive. Then she turned on me.

What the hell was that?

I sighed, closing my eyes and laying my head back on the seat. That was Jack, back from who knows where, I guess expecting to pick up where we left off.

Which is a joke, right? Cindy’s voice had an edge to it, and I was once again grateful for such a caring friend. She had seen what a wreck I’d been when, three days after the disaster Jack and I were involved in was over, he went back to New York, supposedly just to wrap up some loose ends. That had been four months ago. As his absence stretched to weeks and then months, I realized that he wasn’t coming back; had probably never intended to. I went through stages of anger, sorrow, heartbreak, and, finally, acceptance. I had accepted that Jack had another life and that he’d gone back to it. That he’d been willing to give me up for his job.

I couldn’t understand, but had accepted, that Jack’s old life had been too much of a lure to be able to give it up and stay with me. It was hard to take, after his promise never to leave me alone, but I had finally put his memory behind me.

Then he shows up again.

You want to go back in there, don’t you, Cindy broke into my thoughts. You’re glad he’s back and it’s eating you up that you’re not in there talking to him right now.

I shook my head. No, Cindy, that’s the last place I want to be. He had his chance. I waited long enough for him. I’m past all that.

She looked at me like she didn’t believe me. But I didn’t care. I knew how I felt. I knew just how much Jack had hurt me. There was no way I was going to open myself up to that heartache again.

Let’s just get out of here, I said, strapping on my seatbelt. Let’s have lunch at the steakhouse.

Cindy immediately started the car and pulled out of the lot. We headed toward the highway where the restaurant was located. It was a short drive, overflowing with silence. I was flooded with memories of four months ago. Of the fear I had felt, both for myself and for Jack. Of Stephen’s death and all the terror leading up to it. And especially of how Jack had held me when it was all over; how safe I’d felt in his arms, as he promised to never leave me alone. Then how hard it was when he left, and stayed away with no word, for four long months. After the first month I began to doubt his sincerity, but it wasn’t until just recently that I could think about him without coming apart. So it was really unfair that he had shown up again.

Cindy knew I didn’t want to talk about it and didn’t bring up the subject, although I knew she wanted to. In fact, she didn’t talk until we were parking.

You still feel like lunch?

Yes, I do, I replied, unbuckling my belt as she put the car into park. I am not going to let him ruin our afternoon. It’s bad enough we had to leave Bieber’s. Let’s not make this a total waste.

With that I got out, even before Cindy had shut off the engine. She followed, giving me a grin.

That’s the way I like to hear you talk. To hell with men, let’s get some food.

The Cattleman’s Café was second favorite on our list; the food was good and the service almost as fast as Bieber’s. We chose a booth against the wall and ordered margaritas and chip and dip to start off with. It was Saturday, I didn’t have to be anywhere special, so I decided to indulge myself.

We ate and we drank and I almost forgot blue eyes and a sad smile. And while I didn’t exactly put him out of my mind, I refused to let Jack get between me and my life. Not again.

Cindy was determined to help me. We had originally been meeting to talk about our plans for Thanksgiving, which was next Thursday. The plan was to celebrate the day at her house. Now she had other news.

My stepdad called last night. He told me everyone was gathering at his house this year. Both Robin and Steve are planning to be there, as well as Katie. He asked me to come, too.

That sounds great, I replied. How long has it been since you all have gotten together?

It’s been years. I haven’t seen my sister, I know, in five years. And my brothers almost as long. But how about our plans? If I go to Oklahoma what are you going to do?

Don’t worry about me, I can manage. You need to go. Go see your family.

Hey, why don’t you come with me? I know everyone will be glad to see you.

I shook my head. No, this is your family. You haven’t seen them in years. You guys need to catch up with each other. Really, I’ll be fine. I’ll have my own cozy Thanksgiving celebration. I would feel awful if I ruined your chance to see everyone.

But what about, you know, Jack and all that?

I shook my head again, swallowing a suddenly huge mouthful of burger. Don’t worry about him. I never want to see him again. If he didn’t get the message before, I’ll just have to be clearer next time. Go, catch up on all the family gossip. You can tell me all about it when you get back.

She still wasn’t convinced, but finished her chicken fried steak before saying anything else. Okay, but you’ve got to promise me. Promise you won’t let Jack talk you into anything. He doesn’t deserve your time or your trust, Meagan. Don’t give in to him.

I pushed my empty plate away. Don’t worry. I won’t. He’s old news as far as I’m concerned. Now, when do you plan to leave? You have to help me shop for my Thanksgiving before you go.

We chattered on about what I needed and how the day would go. Cindy said her family usually ate early and then watched the football game. I agreed to do the same, and call her after the first touchdown.

It was after three o’clock when Cindy finally dropped me at my car. It was still in Bieber’s parking lot, which was almost empty after the lunch crowd had dispersed. I followed her down the road to our street. She turned left when we crossed the first intersecting street and I continued two blocks to my house. As I passed, I avoided looking at the house on the corner just down from mine. The house where Stephen had lived. Laura was still there with the two girls. I didn’t know how she stayed with all the memories that had to be tied to that place, but then I’d never lost someone like she had. Perhaps the memories were a comfort; something to hold on to when everything else had been pulled away.

She still taught with me at the elementary school, and her girls still attended school there. But she had been avoiding me since school started. I was afraid she felt guilty for something she had not had any control over. It was her husband who had betrayed everyone’s trust. She was a victim of his actions as much as anyone else. I tried talking to her; to let her know that I didn’t feel any resentment, but she refused to talk to me. I eventually decided to give her some time. Hopefully she would open back up to me. We had been good friends before and I hoped we could regain that friendship.

I pulled into the driveway, and, as soon as I got out, a car pulled to a stop at the curb in front of the house. Jack got out.

I stood where I was, on the walk up to the front door, keys dangling from my fingers and a sick feeling spreading up from my stomach; watching him approach; unable to move. My head screamed at me to go up the walk, open the door, and slam it in his face. But my feet refused to budge.

He stopped in the driveway, with plenty of distance between us. I’m sure he knew it wouldn’t take much to make me flee. I realized that I really did want to hear what he had to say. It wouldn’t make any difference in the way I felt; it wouldn’t make me feel any less abandoned. But maybe listening to his explanation would help me understand why he left and the reason why he hadn’t come back until now. Then I could let him know that I didn’t need him anymore. Maybe then I’d truly be free of his memory and of the what ifs that plagued me.

Look, can we talk? Give me a chance to explain.

Okay, I answered, folding my arms across my chest. Say what you want to say and then leave.

I watched as he jiggled the keys in his hand, shifted from foot to foot, and studied the concrete at his feet with an intensity I realized came from nerves. And recognized that he was doing it again. His insecurity was supposed to disarm me so that I would be more willing to react favorably to what he had to say. The pitiful, misunderstood act he was putting on begged me to forgive what he’d already put me through.

It was not going to work this time. I uncrossed my arms, squared my feet, and clasped my hands behind my back. That way he couldn’t see the white knuckled stress I was feeling.

Can we go inside and talk? he asked.

Out here’s fine, I replied shortly.

Okay then. Look, I’m sorry it took me so long to get back in touch. I was tying up some loose ends, shifting some things around. I didn’t realize how much hassle it is to relocate. But I’m here now. I wanted to let you know as soon as I found out. I’m going to be working out of the Houston office now. And no more undercover work. I’ve been assigned to the drug enforcement task force. So that’ll mean regular hours, less stress, and a partner to share the load.

Jack’s explanation finally faded to a stop; apparently he wasn’t getting the reaction he expected. I digested his words, absently counting each tall flower stem on the monkey grass lining the sidewalk. If I had heard him right, he’d spent the last four months working it out so that he could move to Texas; be closer to me. He’d done just what I’d wanted him – expected him – to do. But I didn’t feel happy about it; I didn’t feel excited at the prospect that he was moving here. I didn’t feel anything at all. Maybe I really had moved on.

I was kinda hoping for a different reaction, Jack finally said, taking a small step closer. I was hoping you’d be happy at the news.

I am happy for you, Jack. Sounds like a good opportunity. But it has nothing to do with me. I found that I could even look at him as I continued. After you left and when I didn’t hear anything for all those months I was hurt. I was hurt and angry and lonely. But I’ve worked through all that and now all I feel is regret. We might have had something really great between us. But it’s in the past now. I’ve moved on with my life. So I’m happy for you and wish you all the luck in the world. But I hope you didn’t do all this moving around expecting to find more here than you have.

Jack held my gaze for a long time. I wanted him to see how I felt. And I think he finally did. Running his fingers through his hair, he tried one more time.

I’m sorry I didn’t call. I can see now that was a mistake. But I wanted to get things squared away as fast as possible so I could get back here. And I did do all this hoping for something more. I was hoping we had something real going on. Something we could build a future on.

I held up a hand. I couldn’t listen to any more.

You were wrong, then. There’s no future in this, in us. I waited, Jack, I did. I believed you when you said you wouldn’t leave me alone. But you did. You went back to New York and I didn’t hear a word. How was I to know what you were doing? So I went on with my life. Now I think you should do the same. I think it’s time for you to leave.

He laughed without any humor, and took a step toward me. Meagan –

But I didn’t let him finish. Goodbye, Jack.

He hesitated a moment more; then, stepping right up close, took my chin in his hand and kissed me; a long, deliberate kiss, full of longing and loss.

I love you, Meagan, he said and then turned to leave.

I watched as he got in his car and drove away, not once looking back.

Touching my fingers to my lips, I went inside, numb and empty. Jack was gone. I was supposed to feel at least relieved. But I couldn’t even feel that. He’d taken all my resolve with that kiss and those words.

I sat down at the kitchen table and stared at the chair across from me, where Jack had sat so many months before. Then I had felt like we were a team; discussing our next move; solving problems together. I had never felt so close to anyone as I did when he took me in his arms and promised to come back for me.

He had promised to come back, but he didn’t keep that promise.

Never once in all that time had he ever expressed his love for me. He chose now, after I spent the last months waiting and waiting for any sign that he was thinking of me, to say those three little words. Declared himself even as I rejected him; professing an indifference it was now impossible to feel.

Eventually the numbness wore off and the tears came. I let them fall, giving myself over to the grief and pain one more time. I knew this would be the end of it. Like grieving for a loved one who has died, I had to get past the loss and go on with my life. It was right to feel sad, to feel loss, but there had to be an end to it, and I was ready to find it.

When the tears stopped I got up to wash my face, hoping to wash all the sadness down the drain too. It worked; now I began to get angry. What was he thinking; that he could just walk back into my life and take up where we left off? That a smile and a kiss would erase the last four months? Even his declaration now felt false. I looked in the mirror, seeing red, puffy eyes and downturned mouth. But I also saw resolve and renewed strength. Strength to let him go, resolve to go on to new and better things. I actually smiled at my reflection; not exactly happy, but content in knowing that he no longer had any power to influence my life.

I had some grading to do before Monday and spread that out on the table. Soon I was concentrating on math problems instead of the empty hole where my heart had been.

*Chapter 2*

Thanksgiving week was all about feasts and giving thanks. Especially for a first grader. So I was busy planning for the two and a half days we would be at school that week. Monday would be all about the Mayflower and Pilgrims. Tuesday would be about the Indians and their involvement with the Pilgrims. Then Wednesday the whole campus would have a Thanksgiving Feast. This year the first graders were going to dress as Pilgrims. Laura’s second grade and Emily’s third graders were going to be Indians. So, on Sunday, I had lots of planning to do. Gather the materials for my class to make models of the Mayflower, using half a walnut shell and some clay. Prepare a graph of favorite Thanksgiving foods. Gather supplies to make Pilgrim costumes. And, of course, copies to be made of several coloring pages for the students to enjoy.

I spent most of the afternoon working on these tasks, then went out to make sure all the plants were winterized. There was a chance of a freeze during the next few days, although it was really early for one. I’d been iced in on Thanksgiving before though. You could never tell with Texas weather. So I wanted to be sure my plants were protected.

Winterizing really only consisted of making sure there was enough mulch around the bushes. The remains of the summer flowers were going to have to fend for themselves. They were all well past their prime anyway, but I always had trouble pulling them up at the end of the season. A couple of years the annuals had lasted through the winter and bloomed again the next year. So I left them, hoping that maybe they would come through another winter all right.

By the time I was satisfied with the mulching it was nearly six o’clock. I went in, made a quick dinner of chef salad I’d put together that morning, and got ready for bed. Even though the next week was a short one, it was sure to be busy. With 20 first graders, I needed all the rest I could get.

I had hoped that my busy day would lead to a sleep-filled night. But my dreams were vivid enough to break up my sleep and, although I couldn’t remember any of them, sufficiently disturbed my night so that the next morning I was heavy-lidded and dragging.

Monday proved to be as busy as I thought it would be. Laura didn’t show up for work. The office said she called early that morning to say she wouldn’t be in; one of her girls was sick. I texted her hoping it wasn’t anything serious, but didn’t get a reply. Then school began and I forgot all about it until after the students were gone and I was packing up to go home.

Emily and I had finalized plans for the feast on Wednesday and I told her I would pass along the information to Laura on the way home. I called her number when I got to my car, but the machine picked up. I left a quick message telling her I was stopping by to check on her and her daughter and also to let her know about Wednesday. She called me back almost immediately.

Sorry, Meagan, I was upstairs. Right now’s not a good time to come over. The girls are fine but they’re sleeping. Tell me about Wednesday?

Emily and I talked about the feast and I wanted to let you know what we’ve got planned.

Oh, yeah, the feast, she replied. There was something off about her voice.

Anything wrong, Laura? Jill’s not bad is she?

No, no, she’s fine. Just a touch of fever. I appreciate you and Emily taking care of things. What did you decide?

I described what we came up with and she agreed that it all sounded good.

‘Look, I better get off, go check on Jill, she said, then after a short hesitation, continued. I don’t think I’ll make it tomorrow either, and even Wednesday’s not a sure thing. Could you and Emily handle things without me?"

Sure, Laura, but are you sure there’s nothing wrong? Can I do anything?

No, like I said, it’s just a fever. But if it doesn’t break tonight I better take her to the doctor and have it checked out. I appreciate you guys handling everything. I’ll call you tomorrow.

With that she clicked off. I put my phone down, puzzled. Laura had sounded strange on the phone; like she really didn’t want to talk. But then I shrugged. She had been different toward me ever since Stephen died. That was probably it. I hoped Jill’s fever wasn’t serious and then put it out of my mind for the rest of the evening.

Cindy called later to let me know that she was leaving tomorrow, early, for Oklahoma. We talked a while about her plans, then after wishing her a good trip and promising to call on Thanksgiving, we rang off.

Her call really made me feel lonely. Holidays were for family and friends; not for spending alone. All my family was gone, so that was out. My friends all had their own families to celebrate with. Even my best friend had family to spend the day with.

Then I thought of Laura. Who knew what her plans were. I did know this would be a hard holiday; the first since she lost Stephen. Maybe she didn’t have any plans either. I decided to call and see if she wanted to celebrate together, if Jill felt better by then. I knew we had a history and that memories I stirred up might not be good ones, but I could say the same for her. It was time we buried those feelings. Once we had been close friends and I wanted that again. What was past was past. We both needed to move on. So I decided to call her tomorrow and persuade her to have Thanksgiving with me.

Tuesday came and went quickly and before I knew it I was back home, checking to make sure I had everything I was supposed to bring to the feast tomorrow. The teachers made side dishes for the meal, with the cafeteria contributing turkey and gravy. I had a double order with covering for Laura. Green bean casserole and candied yams were already cooked and ready to go.

After dinner I called Laura, but didn’t get an answer. Leaving a message, I went to take a shower and lay my clothes out for tomorrow. I was closing the closet door when I heard a noise. Listening harder, I realized that someone was knocking on the door. They were being so quiet about it that it was a wonder I heard the sound at all.

I turned on the porch light and opened the door a crack, not used to having visitors at 9:00 at night. Laura stood back from the door, the light throwing shadows across her body.

Laura? Come on in. What are you doing here?

She slipped in the door as soon as I had it opened wide enough for her to fit and then stood hesitantly just inside. She looked around, hands clasped tightly together in front of her.

What is it? I asked, now totally alarmed. Is it Jill? Is she all right?

Laura finally met my eyes, a fleeting glance but it was all I needed to really make me scared. Her eyes were huge and haunted. There were deep lines in her face that I didn’t remember seeing there before. She looked like a woman in terrible pain, with arms held tightly against her stomach and tremors shaking through her whole body.

I took her arm and led her to the couch; then had to push her down to get her to sit. Her whole body was stiff and unyielding until she sat down, and then she seemed to fold up into herself, leaning over with arms wrapped tightly around her body. I sat beside her, putting my hand on her shoulder.

What’s wrong?

Her voice was muffled when she replied, I need your help. You’ve got to help me, Meagan. She straightened up and grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly, as if I was going to jump up and leave.

What can I do? I covered her hand with my other one and watched her intently, my heart beating wildly. I was beginning to imagine all sorts of horrors and tried to ignore them and listen to what she had to say. When she didn’t answer, but tried again to make herself small and hidden, I grabbed her shoulders and pushed her upright.

Laura, where are the girls? Who’s with them? Is someone hurt? Did something happen to one of your girls?

She covered her face with her hands and began to sob, her whole body shaking with the intensity of her anguish.

I stood up jerkily, taking a deep breath to try to stay calm.

I’m going to call 911. Get some help out here. Whatever it is we can fix it, Laura. You’ve just got to hold on.

Laura stood up too, hands dropping to her sides and balling into fists.

Please don’t call anyone, she said and now her voice was low and void of emotion. Her expression really made me worried now.

Okay, then tell me what’s wrong. You’re scaring me.

She shuddered one more time, then dropped back onto the couch. After a slight hesitation, I went to sit beside her. We faced each other, knees touching, as she related her story.

Last Friday, after the meeting at school, I went back to my room to get some papers to take home to grade over the weekend. Jill and Lizzie had already gone down to the car to wait for me. I wasn’t more than ten minutes. But when I got out to the car, they weren’t there. I went back inside and looked for them but couldn’t find them anywhere. Everyone else was gone, even Ben, the custodian, it being Friday and all, so I couldn’t ask anyone if they’d seen them. I went back out to the car and looked around the parking lot but there was no sign of them. I called some of their friends, thinking that they might have caught a ride, but no one had seen them. I mean, it was crazy; I had lost my kids at school. They were there one minute and gone the next.

Laura took a deep, sobbing breath and stared at me. But she wasn’t seeing me. She was seeing something else, something horrifying.

Then my phone rang, she continued so softly I could barely make out her words. I knew it would be Jill or Lizzie, calling to tell me where they were. I was all set to let them have it for going off like that without telling me. For worrying me so much. But it wasn’t them. It was someone else. A man. He said the girls were fine, that he’d picked them up from school and that they were someplace safe. But then he said, he said –

She stopped again, and this time she looked right at me, tears running unheeded down her cheeks.

He said they would only be safe if I did something for him. That he would hurt my babies… her voice broke into sobs and she struggled to get the rest of it out. He would hurt them unless I found the money Stephen hid from him.

Someone took your daughters? I don’t understand. Someone kidnapped Jill and Lizzie?

Yes, Meagan, yes, and he said I have to find this money or else he would hurt them. You’ve got to help me.

But how can I help you? What can I do? I don’t know anything about any money. Don’t you?

No, Laura replied, shaking her head forcefully. I don’t know what he’s talking about. What money? The authorities took all of the money. Stephen’s gone, the money’s gone, and now my children are gone.

She pressed her fist up against her mouth but that did nothing to stop the sobs from getting out. I realized that she was quickly becoming hysterical when she jumped to her feet and began to pace in front of the couch, back and forth, rapidly. I got up, stood in her path, and put both hands on her shoulders to stop her.

You’ve got to stay calm, Laura, I said in as soothing a voice as I could manage. We’ve got to call the police, get them involved in finding your kids.

No! she screamed and pushed my hands away. He said no police. Are you going to help me or not? You and Stephen had this thing, here her voice got ugly, He told you where he hid the money, right? Look, I don’t care about what went on between you two. I just want my girls back. I just want to get the money, give it to this man, and get my girls back.

You’re wrong, Laura. I tried to be as calm as she was hysterical. Stephen loved you. We were just friends. And I would have been the last person he confided that sort of information to. You have to think. Where would Stephen have stashed money?

Laura staggered back to the couch and collapsed onto the cushions.

I don’t know what to do, she wailed. I don’t know where any money is.

I went to sit beside her again, and tried to get her to listen.

Laura, you’ve got to be strong, for your girls. We will figure this out, I promise. Think about where Stephen could have hidden money. Or where he would have taken it for safekeeping. Think about it. I can easily see him having a supply hidden somewhere for emergencies. You just have to figure out where that is. We’ll look for it together. Then, when we find it, you’ll give it to this man and get your daughters back. But first you have to find the money.

Laura looked at me for a long moment, then nodded. You’re right. I just have to think about where he would have hidden the money. But you’ll help me won’t you? she grabbed my hand again and hung on desperately.

Yes, I will. Now, think. Think where Stephen could have put this money.

Still hanging onto my hand, she closed her eyes, calmed her breathing, and sat silent. I watched her sitting so still and wondered myself where Stephen could have hidden any money. He’d been laundering money for his friends for years. Could he have been taking some from them, a little at a time so they didn’t notice, and squirrelling it away for when he needed it? If so, where would he have felt safe hiding it? The police had been through his house, his office, the lumberyard and other