“Her name was Bailey. And yes.” Russell snorted. “She found someone with as much money but fewer years on the calendar.”
“Again with the sympathy.” Noah rolled his eyes. His head was pounding, and there was no telling how much longer they’d have to sit here. The more time he spent in his father’s presence, the more uncomfortable he grew just being related to him.
This wasn’t the legacy he wanted. But he wasn’t ready to sell the inn and move back to Shreveport, either.
He didn’t want to run away and quit—or become anything more like the man at his side than he already was. And the only way to prove that was to finish the hunt, with or without Elisa, and save the Blue Pirogue.
Russell crossed his arms over his chest. “Before you say anything about karma, don’t.”
“I wouldn’t. I don’t believe in karma.” The hymn from Sunday’s sermon flooded Noah’s mind.
Love lifted me
When nothing else could help
Love lifted me
He stared at a crack in the tiled floor as the song ran on repeat in his head. Loving his father…that was a leap. So was forgiving. Maybe he could baby step toward that goal one day. The first step wasn’t going to happen in a jail cell.
But maybe Noah could offer him something.
“You know that’s not love, right?” He refused to meet his father’s eyes, even though Russell’s gaze bore directly into his profile.
“What’s not?”
“The Bambis of the world.”
“Bailey.”
“Her, too.” Noah finally looked at his dad. “I’m just saying there’s more to life than the next woman and greener pastures and money.”
“Says the guy without any of those things.” Russell smirked. “Nice try, son. If you’re about to whip out a religious tract from your pocket, save yourself the trouble.”
He was incorrigible. Noah leaned back against the wall, turning his face away. He’d tried.
A stiff quiet filled the cell, save for the hum of the fluorescent lights above.
Russell finally broke the silence. “So what’s this your girl was saying about a treasure hunt?”
Noah leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his knees and sending more dirt skittering to the floor. “Grandpa set up his will to include additional inheritance six months postmortem.”
“And you have to hunt for it?”
“Yep. Follow the clues.”
“Such a quirky man.” Russell shook his head. “Leave it to my father to saddle you with that inn and its mortgage, then make you work to find the money to pay for it.”
“We’re pretty close to the end of the hunt.” Forget that this last clue was impossible and his partner had all but sent him to jail. He swallowed. “It’ll all work out.”
“Maybe it won’t have to.”
Noah turned his head slowly to his father. “What do you mean?”
“You asked why I was here.” He shrugged one shoulder. “I’m here to take over.”
He snorted. “I don’t need your help.”
“Sounds like you do. Black mold?”
