“She’s fine,” Lucas says with an assurance that makes all his previous sentiments sound fragile.
“How do you know?” Clint asks, bits of the wariness and anger edging back into his voice.
“Because I’m here.”
I gasp. The woman I want to both hug and pummel stands at the end of our booth.
Betsey’s hair is pulled back into a ponytail and her face is freshly scrubbed. She looks like she’s slept. “Thanks for texting me. Can I sit?”
Candace scoots in next to Lucas.
My dilemma of whether to welcome her or grab my husband and flee must be obvious on my face.
“I know, Meredith.” She speaks quickly as if peppering me with her words will tie me to my seat. “I wish I’d come to you much earlier. I thought I could assemble a full picture of how our ETFs were being manipulated and the mutual funds given advantage. But I was stymied on every approach. I got desperate. There was only the—”
“You threatened me with pictures.” Anger at her deception and relief over her safety war inside me.
“Bad judgment. I don’t know what made me take them. I guess at that point I didn’t know if you were behind all this. My boss and head of wealth at Meymack—something was not right. I wouldn’t have actually done anything with them.” Her eyes dart to Clint.
“Right, well, I’m glad you’re okay.” I believe my own words, but there’s no joy in them. “For now, I think we need to focus on our next step.” I summarize where we are with the planning to set up the fake meet at the house and watch the app. If someone is paid to go watch our house, or worse, we’ll have the proof.
“We should do this.” Betsey glances around the table.
“Candace, do you think your friend will be able to set the trap on the app?” I bite down on the inside of my lip. This is a pivot. Are we making a mistake? Now that I see them sitting all together across from us, how can we possibly trust these people?
Candace nods as she pecks at her phone.
“No one will be at the house. It’s worth the risk,” Lucas says. His Meymack executive posture has returned. I want to warn him to approach carefully, but if the brothers have any chance of mending their relationship, I’ll need to stay far away from the middle.
“I hope our house is left standing. This is a desperate situation.” Clint’s hand grips mine again. I look up at his surprisingly untroubled eyes. It’s more than resignation. He wants to bring on this fight and get the evidence we need to end strong.
“Anything else we’re missing?” I ask.
Lucas leans forward. “Stay at the cabin—”
“Don’t tell me where my family will be.” The heat of Clint’s glare falls on all three of the adults pressed together on the other side of the booth. “I don’t trust any of you.”
At least the two of us are on the same page, as this uneasy alliance could shatter at any moment.
“I didn’t mean... I meant just stay away from the house until you hear from us. I promise, we’re done tracking you,” Lucas says.
“Don’t promise me anything. None of this is as simple as you say.” Clint shakes his head as if we’ve all been duped. “I’ll take care of my family.”
Lucas swallows and then nods. “Fair enough. We won’t ask. There’s enough disinformation swirling around. I mean, the things we were told about Betsey...”
I stare at Betsey’s hands, folded and trembling on the table.
No one says anything for a full minute, perhaps each imagining a very different way this all could end.
I look hard into Clint’s eyes. “All right. We’ll head somewhere.”
Lucas nods. “And we’ll contact you when we have proof.”
A half hour later, we’re on our way back to the cabin. Rob texts that Reid is still sleeping, curled up around his stuffed dog, Henry,who came with him to camp but spent the week in the bottom of his bag, as apparently no one else brought their stuffies. I finally make Rob go in and let him know breakfast, boxed in to-go containers, is on the way.
We sit in silence for a couple more miles before Clint says, “I’m going to ask Rob to return Ella’s Accord.”
“Gassed and with some cash?” I ask. Not enough time to get it washed and detailed, but she’ll probably prefer the cash anyway.
