“Yes.”
“We were going to run away together. Start a new life. I thought I loved her.” He rested the heel of his hand on his forehead. “She’d signed a prenuptial agreement with Bannon and wouldn’t get any money if they divorced, even though he was worth millions.” He sighed heavily. “She talked me into it. I ran his accounts. I could skim off the top and make it happen pretty easily. Over the course of a year and half, I took two-point-three million dollars.”
He stood and walked to the fireplace mantel, staring at pictures in frames as he spoke. “It was all set up. We were transferring the money into an account in the Cayman Islands, preparing to leave.”
“And the children?” she asked.
“There was five hundred thousand set aside for child support. We both know they’d be better off without me.”
How many times had she thought the same thing herself? But him coming to that conclusion on his own was just another mark against him. What kind of man would leave his children behind without another thought?
“I was selfish, Jo, okay? I wanted a new start. Since you left, when it was my day with the kids, it was always terrible. Always. April yelling at me, Lucas and me fighting, even Fiona would break down in tears. I sounded just like my old man, treating my own children like shit, and I hated myself for it. I don’t know how to be a good father. I didn’t realize how much you helped me until I was on my own.”
The pain in his voice was her undoing. Her eyes burned, emotion welling up as he admitted to his failures as a parent. More than his treatment of her, it had been the way he handled the kids that made her desperate to get away from him. But seeing the devastation in his eyes, knowing how hard it must have been roused her sympathy. She spoke the simple truth. “They love you, David. You’re their father.”
He frowned harshly.
“Who died in the fire?” asked Sloan.
“We were almost ready to go. McKenzie told me to meet her at the hunting cabin—we met there sometimes—but her cousin Finbar showed up instead. He was a lowlife I’d met a couple of times at her place. He was forever going in and out of jail.
“The son of a bitch mocked me. He knew everything, details he could only have gotten from McKenzie. Said he was getting a cut of the money, and all he had to do was kill me.”
Joanne remembered the dark brown casket, her desire to see what was inside. “So it was Finbar we buried in that cemetery.”
“I had no choice. It was him or me. McKenzie double-crossed me. She used me to steal Bannon’s money and put her name on it, then she wanted me gone.”
“So why not go to the police?” asked Sloan. “If you killed him in self-defense, that’s justifiable homicide.”
“Do you think she would have stopped?” he asked incredulously. “Do you think she would have let me live once I knew what she’d done? I could turn her in to Bannon in a heartbeat. I was a liability.”
He sat back down. “I shot Finbar, and I set the fire to hide the evidence. I never knew I could act that way, do those things.” He shook his head. “I watched the hunting cabin burn. That’s when I realized everyone would think it was me in that building. That I could still have a fresh start, even without McKenzie.” His eyes searched hers. “It never occurred to me they’d come after you, that I was putting our kids in danger.”
The frown was back, his chin puckering. “I never would have done anything to hurt you guys on purpose.” His voice cracked and he seemed to collapse in on himself, the weight of his decisions crushing the man he’d once been.
Joanne stood and crossed to the couch, sitting and putting her arms around him, aware of Sloan just a few feet behind her. She needed to do this, needed to find some forgiveness in this space. David had been damaged by his father just as Joanne had been damaged by hers. He was no more capable of being a good parent than she was of leaving her own scars behind.
David’s shoulders shook. Her mind flipped through the pages of her relationship with each of these men, the dynamic between her and Sloan crystalizing in her understanding. She’d been looking for someone to save her from her father’s wrath, a hero to make the darkness go away. When she’d asked him to marry her, she wasn’t doing it out of love, even though she loved him with her whole heart and soul. She’d been asking him to take on that role forever, to keep her safe and protected so she wouldn’t have to be brave.
Her relationship with David hadn’t stood a chance.
“I’m so sorry,” he said into her ear. “For all of it. The cheating and the lies. The unhappy years.”
“I’m sorry, too.” She gently rubbed his back. “I was expecting you to fix my life instead of sharing it with me. No one can do that for anyone else.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
She hadn’t been looking for forgiveness, but the words resonated with her in a way that few ever had. Her throat constricted. “It wasn’t your fault, either.” She could see it now, the elusive truth suddenly staring her in the face. “I blamed you for everything, right from the start, and I’m sorry.” She squeezed him tightly, then let him go, standing and returning to her seat.
Sloan stood and crossed to the sideboard, the sound of liquid pouring the only noise in the room. He brought them each a scotch, then took his seat. “You said Bannon was only the beginning, that it was McKenzie we had to worry about.”
David nodded. “After she tried to kill me, I wanted to make sure she couldn’t keep a dime of that money. I’d paid a king’s ransom for new identities for the two of us. Passports. Her ticket out of the country, the bank account in the Caymans—everything’s in her new name. I broke into her house and I stole back the passport.”
Joanne’s mouth dropped open. “The day of the funeral, someone broke into our house. It was a mess, drawers emptied everywhere, paintings taken down. It looked like they were looking for something. But McKenzie was at the service with Bannon. She couldn’t have done it..”
“She could have had someone else do it, just like she had Finbar try to kill me.”
“Where are the passports now?” asked Sloan.
