Somehow Jace managed to shake Donny’s outstretched hand. The skin was soft, a clear indication that Donny wasn’t doing any manual labor. Donny had always been good at other things besides real work.
“Remember me, old buddy? Donny Babcock?” The toothy grin shone at Kitty in explanation. “Me and Jace go way back. He’s surprised to see me after all this time.”
A real understatement.
Jace struggled for composure, careful not to reveal too much or to alert Kitty to his discomfort. He stood like a robot, unaffected on the exterior, writhing inside. Dread, deeper than the Redemption well, seeped into his cells.
“A real surprise,” he managed.
Donny slapped Jace’s shoulder and laughed. The slap was a reminder of what lay beneath his shirt and of the past he shared with Donny Babcock.
“Saw you on TV, Jace old pal. You’re famous. A real hero from the sound of it.”
Jace regretted every minute on that bridge with TV cameras rolling around him. He wanted to ask straight out what Babcock was doing in Redemption, but he couldn’t. Not with Kitty in the room.
“Just doing what neighbors do,” he said. “For what little good it did.”
“I heard they never found the body.” Donny pulled a long face. “Poor man.” He glanced at Kitty. “Such a tragedy.”
The words were insincere enough that Jace cringed. Kitty didn’t seem to notice. She nodded, one hand against her heart in empathy. “I know.”
“What brings you to Redemption, Donny?”
“You, Jace old buddy. Well, that and business. I’m in real estate investments now and this area has some interesting possibilities.”
“Someone in town told him you might be here,” Kitty injected. “Can I get the two of you a soda? Or some tea?”
“Sweet tea from a sweet lady sounds mighty refreshing.” Donny dazzled Kitty with another smile. He must have had veneers attached since Jace had last seen him. The smile was too white and big to be natural.
“Nothing for me,” Jace said. “I’ve got to go.”
“What’s the rush, pal? We need to catch up.” Donny slapped Jace’s shoulder again. “For old times’ sake.”
Jace clenched his teeth. If Babcock whacked him again, there would be trouble.
“Of course you do. You two sit down and talk. I’ll get some tea.” Kitty bustled from the room, leaving Jace alone with his nightmare.
“What are you really doing here?” he growled softly.
“Now, Jacey boy, mi amigo. Is that any way to greet an old friend?” Babcock held up two fingers. “Scouts’ honor. My intentions are on the up-and-up. I saw you on TV and figured I’d come down and say hello.”
“You’ve said hello. Now say goodbye.”
“Jace, Jace, Jace. You’re starting to hurt my feelings. We were good buddies back then. Remember? You and me against the world. Not that I’m one to collect on old debts, but I saved your hide a time or two.”
Dark shame flushed through Jace’s system. The place on his side began to ache the way it did when he remembered.
“I appreciate it, Donny, I do. But I’m not that stupid kid anymore. I’m a new man, with a good life.” Fourteen years of being the best man he knew how to be, of seeking God with all his heart. Of paying penance with every breath in his body.
“And you don’t want anyone messing it up. I’m cool with that. I didn’t come here to cause trouble for you, Jacey boy.”
“Why did you come?”
The toothy smile came again. “To do you a favor.”
The sound of soft footsteps stopped the conversation. Jace paced to the door and opened it for Kitty. She carried a tray with two glasses of tea and a plate of cookies. His heart pinched at the kindness. This was the life he’d chosen, the life he’d worked for. Donny was right. He didn’t want anyone destroying the respect and friendships he’d gained in Redemption. And Donny’s presence threatened everything.
Was he selfish to want him gone? After Donny had been there when he needed him most?
“Let me take that,” he said.
Kitty’s mouth curved. “Thank you, Jace.”
She relinquished the tea and stepped into the room, bringing her fresh rose scent along.
“You shouldn’t have bothered. I need to go.” He fought to keep his tone easy. “I have an appointment with Samuel Case to bid a job.”
He normally wouldn’t have explained himself, but today he needed an excuse to get out of here and think.
“But you have a guest.”
“No problem, Miss Wainright. Jace and I can reminisce at his place. We were just discussing my accommodations and he insisted I stay at his house for a few days.” Babcock turned glittery brown eyes on Jace. “Right, Jace?”
The blatant lie took him aback, but he wasn’t ready to call Donny’s bluff. Not in front of Kitty. The man knew too much. And he was bound to have a deeper motive for showing up after all this time. Jace had an obligation to himself and to his adopted town to find out what it was.
“You can follow me out to the house.”
“No, no, go ahead and bid your job. Old Donny will sit here and enjoy his tea with Miss Wainright. I’ll be along later.”
“You don’t know where I live.”
Donny winked. “I’ll find you.”
Jace’s gut tightened. Until he knew what Donny was up to, if anything, he didn’t like leaving him alone with Kitty. But he’d backed himself into a corner and could do little else.
On legs shaky with adrenaline, he headed to his truck and prayed all the way to Samuel Case’s antique shop.
He should be working, had plenty to do, but Jace couldn’t relax until he found out what Donny Babcock was doing in Redemption, Oklahoma. By the time he arrived home from his appointment with Samuel Case, he was drenched in sweat. Worry sweat.
He let himself in through the side door and was met by a delighted puppy. Milo, a beagle mix of some sort with curly ears and soft brown eyes, thought Jace was the sun and the moon.
“Got any presents for me to clean up?”
They were working on house training, and he should probably crate the pup during his absences but he couldn’t. The floors were hardwood. They’d clean. No living creature should be locked in a cage.
The dog wiggled harder, mouth open, eyes dancing along with his feet and tail. If a dog could throw out his back, Milo would manage.
Jace crouched on his toes and gathered the bundle of warmth and love against his chest. A few minutes with Milo and he could almost forget his worries.
But not quite. He had a lot to lose with Donny Babcock in town.
With Milo dogging his heels, he paced the gleaming wood floor of his living room. He’d spent hours perfecting this shine. Hours stripping away the old carpet and the old finishes. Layer after layer until he’d uncovered the stunning solid oak flooring, made even more beautiful by age. Someone had told him he should put down area rugs but he couldn’t bring himself to cover something this beautiful.
Wood was his passion and nothing fired him up like a piece perfected by age just waiting for the hand of a master craftsman. He frequented estate sales and old barns in search of pieces like the banister now curving toward the second story of the Queen Anne he called home.
He ran a hand over the silky banister. Gary Henderson had taught him to appreciate fine wood, and he’d taught him the skills needed to build a business and a life. He’d also taught him about Jesus. The day Jace had been assigned to Gary’s woodshop class had been a blessing he would never take for granted. It was God, pure and simple, trying to help a messed-up kid.
“You should have known Gary,” he told Milo who’d jogged up the stairs to be on eye level with his master.
Jace had taken Gary’s shop class to get out of real work. Or so he’d thought. Eighteen years old, he’d been so scared back then any safe place was welcome. And Gary’s woodshop was safe. The master builder saw to that. No one monkeyed around under Gary’s watch.
“I would be dead without Gary.”
He believed the sentiment with his whole heart. With Gary’s guidance he’d become a real man instead of a punk kid destined for the cemetery. Gary had been the one who’d urged him to leave the city and start fresh in a place where no one would judge him by anything except his workmanship and character. He’d done that. He’d made Gary proud.
He blew out a worried breath.
More than anything today, he needed to talk to his mentor and friend.
He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and paced some more. Milo hippity-hopped down the stairs and followed.
Gary was gone. Died two years after Jace moved to Redemption to start over.
“God, you see my dilemma. Guide me.” Jace wasn’t a big talker to anyone else, but God already knew all his faults and mistakes anyway. And the dog thought every word was meant for him. Milo plopped down on his bottom, one leg sticking straight out as he cocked his head to listen. “Why has Donny Babcock tracked me down? After all this time, it can’t be good. It can’t be.”
He headed into the kitchen, oblivious for once to the granite counters and the warm patina of the hand-lathed cabinets. He should eat something but his stomach gnawed with anxiety.
He thought of Kitty and the gnawing got worse. He shouldn’t have left her alone with Babcock. Even if Donny had saved him from a knife-happy convict and certain slaughter, he’d been shady, always working a deal. A con in a building full of cons. Jace didn’t want Kitty hurt by anyone, least of all by someone connected to him.
As he reached into his back pocket for the cell phone, a car door slammed. He replaced the phone and went to the door. Donny was already there. He entered the house without being asked, brushing past Jace to gaze around at the inside of the Queen Anne.
“This your place?”
“It is.” His and the bank’s.
Donny stopped in the foyer, a soaring entry with a stained glass transom and crown molding. “Why didn’t you buy something new? Who wants old stuff like this anymore? It’s not even finished.”
Jace’s jaw tightened. “I like it.”
Milo, unused to being ignored, yipped once. Donny stopped dead still, mouth curled in distaste. “You got a mutt?”
Mildly, Jace said, “Meet Milo.”
“I don’t want dog hair on my suits.” He pinched the pleat on his pants, then flecked imaginary hair from his jacket.
Since the last time Jace had seen him, Donny’s taste in clothes had gotten noticeably more expensive, though the suit hung on his thin frame like it would on a hanger. His brown hair was slicked back and gleamed with gel, his black patent wing-tips spit-shined as if he’d learned in the military. Which he hadn’t. He reeked of department store cologne. All in all, he appeared respectable but Jace worried that beneath the polish beat the heart of the same sleazy hustler who’d conned his own family out of thousands.
Though tempted to tell Donny to find another place to stay, Jace kept quiet. The only motel in Redemption belonged to Kitty.
Ignoring the growling dog, Donny wandered into the next room. The future office was as empty as the living room.
“You need some furniture, pal. What’s the matter? Out of cash?”
Jace tried to see the rooms from someone else’s point of view. Other than a chair here and there, an antique desk with telephone and computer, and an incredible mahogany sideboard he’d rebuilt, they were basically empty. Even his bed was an air mattress tossed on the floor.
As with everything in the house, Jace wanted authentic pieces. Finding them, refurbishing them took time. He was a patient man who enjoyed the search.
“I can help you with that,” Donny pressed. “With the cash flow problem.”
“Just tell me what you want, Donny. I know you didn’t show up here after fourteen years out of sentiment.”
“Tsk-tsk. So suspicious. I told you, Jacey boy, I’ve come to do you a favor. Let’s order pizza and talk over a couple of beers. The widow’s tea didn’t do it for me.”
“No beer.” Jace crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the fireplace bricks. Milo sat on his foot, eyeing Donny with the same suspicion his master felt.
Donny stopped his hyperactive perusal of Jace’s house. Shoving back his suit jacket, he propped both fists on his hips. “No beer?”
Jace shook his head. “I’m a Christian now.”
“Hey!” Donny lifted both hands. “Me, too.”
Jace’s heart jumped. He leaned forward, hoping. “For real?”
“Me and the big dude upstairs, we’re tight. Yes sir.” Babcock held up a pair of crossed fingers. “Just like this. Serious, pal. I got a Bible and everything.”
Jace wanted to believe him but the words reeked of insincerity. That had been the way of the man Jace remembered. A consummate liar, he said what people wanted to hear until he got what he wanted. Then he’d laugh like a hyena behind their backs and call them fools.
Jace didn’t want to join the crowd of fools.
“So how about a few beers between a couple of former old sinners?” Donny asked, shooting Jace a crooked grin. “Jesus drank wine, you know.”
“Jesus could handle it. I can’t.”
“Aw, come on now, pal. You weren’t an alkie.”
“Don’t want to be either. Look, Donny, let’s get real here. I haven’t seen you in nearly fifteen years. What are you not telling me?”
Donny prowled around the living room, glanced out windows, ran his hands over the backs of chairs, his eyes shifting from side to side as if looking for a place to land. His fidgety behavior elevated Jace’s suspicions.
“All right, Jacey boy, here’s the straight of it. Looks like you’ve made a good life in this burg. I figured I’d come down and see what you had working.”
Jace snorted. “Me. That’s what I have working. Dawn to dark, six days a week in the busy season. I restore historic buildings.”
Donny stopped prowling. His shifty gaze focused on Jace. “For real? You’re a builder? No side businesses?”
“None.”
The admission must have caught him off guard. Donny grew quiet for a few seconds before the toothy grin stretched wide.
“Okay, I get it now. Ha-ha. I’ve gone straight, too. Living for Jesus, doing right.” With a light laugh, he tapped his chest. “What could be more perfect? You’re a builder and I’m in real estate investments. No one knows what we’ve been through but us. We can help each other, Jacey old pal.”
Jace was listening, wanting to believe Donny had changed, but wary. Donny said all the right things, but the tone wasn’t quite sincere. He couldn’t escape the nagging feeling that Donny was trying to con him. He felt a little ashamed about that, considering they shared a similar past.
“Are you clean?”
Donny fell back, mouth lax, expression hurt. He shoved at his sleeves. “Want to check? Want to see my arms?”
The needle had never been Donny’s drug of choice but Jace didn’t say so. Instead, he shook his head, the sense of shame deepening. Why couldn’t he trust that Donny had changed his destructive ways? Jace had. Why was he so reluctant to believe that someone else could do the same? “Forget it.”
“Hey, no problemo. I was a bad apple. Like you. Two peas in a pod, so to speak. But we’ve changed, buddy boy. We’ve changed.”
Lord, he hoped so for both their sakes. On the rough streets where he’d grown up boys as young as ten were already using. If not for a good mother who’d begged him to be careful, he’d probably have been a junkie. He’d been bad enough as it was. And Donny knew it.
“I have a sweet deal going in a retirement community in Florida,” Donny was saying. “I stand to make money—big money, Jacey boy—and I’m willing to cut you in.” He gazed around for effect. “From the looks of this empty place, you could use the extra dough.”
Jace’s mouth twisted. Donny was still all about working a deal. “Who couldn’t?”
“You’re interested then? Good.”
He didn’t say that, but he figured to let Donny talk. Maybe he’d find out what was really going down.
Donny started to prowl again, as restless as a flea. He sniffed, swiped at his nose. “Here’s the deal. I sunk everything I had into a couple of investment properties. Then I sold one of them faster than I expected and all my money is still tied up in the other properties. Escrow accounts and all that Housing and Urban Development red tape.”
Jace tensed. Now they were getting down to the real reasons for Donny’s sudden reappearance in his life. “You came to me for money.”
“Buddy, pal, compadre. Listen. You are not hearing me.” Donny’s voice took on a placating tone as if he was talking to a whiny child. “I came to you because I figured who better to share the wealth? You know me. I know you. We can trust each other.”
Like a mouse trusts a tomcat.
“I’m just a little short on cash flow at the present, but the assets are there. I swear to you. On my brand-new Bible.” He held up his right hand as though to impress Jace with his sincerity. Jace was not impressed. “As soon as the property closes, I’ll be able to pay you back with interest. It’s a win-win situation, done all the time in my business.”
“Why didn’t you go to one of your business associates or to your banker?” Jace crossed his arms again and shook his head. “If you want help ask for it, but give me the facts, not a con.”
Donny turned his back and paced some more. Jace could practically see the wheels turning inside his head.
“You should get a couch. One of those long recliner things with the built in tables and cup holders. And a big screen.” He stopped, spun. “How do you live in this place without a big screen?” When Jace simply stared at him, he said,” This is no con. I swear on my mother.”
First the Bible and now his mother. Too much swearing to be true. “I’d like to believe you, but I don’t.”
Donny stopped his prowling and shoved both hands in his pockets. His shoulders slumped. “All right, look. Here’s the real skinny. The economy is killing the real estate business. I’ve been straight as an arrow for the last ten years, working day and night like you said. Honest. Clean as a new shirt. I swear it. Then the market goes south and I’m struggling. I don’t want to go back to that life, Jacey boy. You got to help me out.”
Jace suffered a tug of sympathy. He knew the fear of going back, because he lived with it daily. “I’m not rich.”
Most of his assets were tied up in this house and the twenty surrounding acres.
“Seeing you on television was like a sign. I’m thinking, go see Jace. He owes you one.” Donny stretched out his hands. “I was hoping you would invest in this deal. Just a little to get me going again. After everything that happened, it’s the least you can do. I saved your hide, Jacey boy. You’d have died right there if not for me. Torres had you down with no help in sight. No help but me. He was carving you up like a Christmas turkey.”
Jace shuddered at the vision of himself on the cold, wet concrete, someone standing on his bleeding hands and Torres with the homemade knife. The scars on his body throbbed.
“One more minute and he’d have cut your liver out and left you to bleed to death. Doesn’t that count for anything?”
Jace dragged a hand over his face. It did count for something. “Tell me again where you’ve been, what you’ve been doing.”
He listened attentively while Donny related his business dealings and his lifestyle among prosperous, law-abiding citizens. Jace wanted to believe he was telling the truth and yet Donny’s story seemed inflated to impress.
“You got a second chance at the good life, Jace. Don’t I deserve one, too?”
What could he say to that? Donny was right. God had blessed him with a second chance and the Lord was no respecter of persons.
“Come on, have a heart. Spot me a few lousy bucks until business picks up.”
Jace gnawed the inside of his cheek. He wasn’t about to hand any sizable cash to a man he hadn’t seen in years.
His conscience pricked. That stranger had saved his life.
“I can loan you a little. Maybe a couple of hundred.”
Donny’s mouth twisted. “Get real. A couple hundred won’t get me to Tulsa.”
Jace shifted against the rough lacquered brick, felt the hard pressure against his scarred back and remembered what Donny Babcock had done for him. “What do you want, Donny?”
“Well, let’s see now.” Donny roamed the living room again, looked out the undraped bay window. “I could use a place to stay. A few bucks. Just until this deal goes through. Then I’ll be out of your hair. I swear it.”
Realization slowly seeped through. Donny was down on his luck and searching for a soft place to land. There was probably no land deal, no money in escrow.
“You’re broke.”
Donny held up an index finger. A diamond winked from his pinky. “Temporarily short of cash. Emphasis on temporary. I got that deal working.”
Jace no more believed him than he could read minds. He blew out a tight breath. He might be a fool, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Gary Henderson. What if Gary had turned his back on Jace? Where would he be today?
This one’s for you, Gary.
“You can bunk here for a few days.”
“I knew I could count on you. Tell you what, old buddy, when I get this deal cooking—”
Jace held up a hand to stop the words. “Listen, Donny, and listen good. No cons. I’m respected in this town. I have a business, friends, a church family. I’d appreciate it if you’d keep a low profile while you’re here.”
Donny went still. Sly awareness crept across his bony face. “I think I’m getting the picture. They don’t know about your little trip up the river, do they?”
Jace shoved his hands in his pockets. “No.”
“And you want to keep it that way.”
Jace’s heart bumped. Not even a town as generous and welcoming as Redemption would do business with him if they knew. “Redemption’s a good town. Good people. Don’t mess with them. Don’t mess with me.”
“Well now, the way I see it is this. I got no reason to tell the good folks of Redemption Jace Carter’s ugly little secret. No reason at all. You help me out, and I’ll return the favor. Get my drift?”
Jace stared into Donny’s glittery eyes and felt the earth shift off-kilter. The promise sounded eerily like a threat.
With a heavy heart, he knew he had no choice but to believe Donny Babcock was all he claimed to be. He only hoped that trust didn’t cost him everything.