Wednesday evening
Rebel and Tash sat in front of the still-orange embers in the fireplace, the remains of BBQ and potato salad from Uncle Willie’s BBQ Palace on paper plates beside them.
Rebel hadn’t told Tash about his father yet, and now he knew he couldn’t put it off any longer. He hated to. Tash was happy on his full stomach. No choice. He took his nephew’s small, scratched hand in his, gave a light squeeze.
Tash looked up, cocked his head to one side, and said, “What’s for dessert, Uncle Rebel?”
Rebel would have laughed in ordinary circumstances, but not now. “I can’t believe you have an ounce of room left,” he said, and lightly tickled Tash’s stomach. Tash laughed and tried to tickle him. Rebel let him, then he pulled Tash against him, squeezed him. He couldn’t think of a way to sugarcoat it, so he just spit it out. “This is about your dad, Tash. Someone has been embezzling—stealing—a great deal money from your dad’s investment fund. The FBI don’t know where your dad is now and he hasn’t answered my texts or calls since this morning.”
Tash pulled back. “I don’t understand.”
“The FBI believes your dad could be involved.”
Task jerked away, jumped to his feet. He was shaking. “You mean they think he stole from his own company? That’s crazy! My dad wouldn’t do anything like that.”
“I don’t think so either, Tash, but since a great deal of money is missing, and your dad is in Europe, they suspect him. It’s got to be someone who works for your dad, someone he trusts, who stole the money. We’re going to have to trust the FBI to find out who it is. All you and I can do right now is wait, and keep trying to get through to your dad.”
“He didn’t call me either.”
Rebel heard the fear in his voice and didn’t know what to do. “We’ll keep trying, Tash.”
Tash ran his tongue over his lips. “I’m scared, Uncle Rebel.” He laid his small hand on his uncle’s arm. “You promise you don’t think Dad’s a crook?”
“I promise. The FBI will discover who is. You don’t need to be scared, all right? We just have to wait.”
Easy words to say to a little kid he knew was scared spitless. He was an adult and he was scared spitless himself.
Tash looked ready to burst into tears. He was wringing his hands. “You don’t understand, Uncle Rebel. I had dreams before we came here. They were real scary and awful and they were all the same and I knew they were about my dad. Something bad was going to happen to him. And now it has and it’s my fault. If I hadn’t dreamed about it—”
Rebel kept his voice calm and smooth. “Tash, a dream can’t make something happen, bad or good.”
But Tash wasn’t buying it. He shook his head back and forth, whispered, “I think it’s just starting—no, I’m sure it’s just starting. It’s going to get really bad and I can’t stop it.”
Tash thought his dreams were premonitions? No wonder he was so scared. Rebel pulled Tash onto his lap, cradled him inhis arms. “Try to forget the dreams, Tash. That’s all they are, just bad dreams. You and I—we’re going to stay together until your dad can come home.”
Tash laid his face against Rebel’s shoulder. “Does everyone in town know about Dad?”
“Yes, very probably. News like this gets around really fast.”
“Do Autumn and her mom and dad know?”
“Yes, they do, and Ethan’s going to help however he can. And so will FBI agent Dillon Savich.”
Tash suddenly straightened, his small hands now fists. “If the FBI knew my dad they’d never think he could be a crook. He wouldn’t.”
“I agree. Listen, Tash, the FBI has a division that looks into financial crimes like this. They’ll find out the truth and your dad will come home.”
Tash fell silent and Rebel continued to cradle him close. To his surprise, Tash said against his shoulder, “After Mama died Dad changed. He used to be really happy and then she got sick and died. He’d hold me and he’d cry. He didn’t smile much at all, and then he met Sasha.” He gave a sigh.
Rebel stared at Tash’s small serious face, his eyes so like Rebel’s, nearly the exact same light gray. He felt something he’d never felt before in his life—overwhelming love and the soul-deep desire to protect this little boy with his life. He squeezed Tash closer. “Maybe when this investigation is over and your dad comes back, he’ll agree to let you live with me at least part of the time. What do you think?”
Joy clashed with Tash’s awful fear. He bounced up. “Yes, yes, that’d be great!” Then he stopped cold. “I hope my dad doesn’t forget me now he has Sasha.”
Rebel ruffled his head, pulled out a grin. “Fat chance. I’ll have to beg your father, maybe crawl, so he’ll let you spend time with me.”
Tash was quiet, then he said in a hopeful little voice, “Do you really think so? You don’t think Sasha will tell him she doesn’t want me around at all?”
“Sasha has nothing to say about this, Tash. Will you believe me?”
