Thank God.
Kade let the relief fill him as Ginny led the way through the house. After a deep breath, he followed.
And froze in the living room.
The space was filled with cardboard boxes. They were piled floor to ceiling, blocking the light from the back windows. There was barely enough space to walk through to the dining room.
She’d been planning to leave. If he hadn’t come, if he’d waited a day or two, would he have arrived to find her gone?
Ginny stepped back into the room, her eyes wide as she regarded him.
“You don’t waste any time.” His voice was flat.
She walked to the tallest tower of boxes and bumped it with her hip. They tumbled, hit the pile beside them, and sent them tumbling, too. “It’s all show and no go.”
He nudged one with his shoe, just to be sure. The empty box offered no resistance. “So they’re all—?”
“I couldn’t make myself do it.”
He blew out a long breath, tried to settle his pounding heart. “I’ll help you break them down later.” And then load them in his truck and take them away, just in case she had any more wild ideas.
In the kitchen, Ginny got drinks for everyone and filled a bowl with popcorn, which she set in the middle of the table before taking a few pieces.
“Did you ever eat?” Kade asked.
“This is the first time I’ve felt like eating all day.” She popped the salty treat in her mouth.
Brady pulled a small pad and pen from his shirt pocket. “It’s time to tell me everything.”
Ginny set the few remaining popcorn pieces that had been in her hand on a napkin. She glanced at Kade, who nodded his encouragement.
Brady said, “Now that I know what your parents did for a living—”
“They were restaurant owners.” Her voice carried a twinge of defensiveness.
“And strip club owners,” Brady said. “I’m just wondering if their work has anything to do with why your house was searched that day.”
She crossed her arms. “How would I know?”
Brady set the pen down, folded his hands on the pad. “I’m going to have a chat with Bruce next, but I’d like to go in armed with facts. I’m wondering how he found all that information about you, and why now. He’s been trying to find something to use against you since April. If he’d gotten it before now, he’d have shared it before now.”
Ginny looked at Kade, who said, “Brady thinks someone slipped him the info.”
“He could have been trying to find information on me this whole time.” Ginny focused on Brady. “Maybe he just got it yesterday.”
Brady said, “Maybe. Maybe not. But if someone slipped it to him, don’t you want to know who it was—and why?”
Kade rested his hand palm up on the table, and she slipped hers into it. “Brady asked me if I knew anything about your parents’ businesses. I haven’t told him anything, but I think it’s time to trust him.”
“But my mother…”
Kade gave her a moment to finish, but her gaze cut to Brady, and she said nothing else.
After a moment, Kade said, “It was her job to protect you, not the other way around.”
“I know, but—”
“I’m not after your mother,” Brady said. “If she broke the law in California, the authorities in California will have to deal with it. Right now, I just want to keep you safe.”
“But will you tell them?”
Brady didn’t shrug, didn’t blink. “Depends on what you tell me.”
At least he was honest.
“I don’t really know anything,” Ginny said.
“Then I won’t have any information to pass along.”
And even if he did pass something along, that was Ginny’s mother’s problem, not Ginny’s.
Brady sighed. “Look, maybe they’re not related at all. Maybe, like you said, Bruce has been trying for weeks to find something to use against you, and he just found it. That feels… unlikely to me. He’s persistent, but what he learned isn’t that hard to find. It’s just… it’s weird, that’s all. I’m here as your friend, not as the chief of police. I’m not here to investigate you or anybody else. I just want to know if there are people I should be on the lookout for.”
After a quick glance at Kade, her shoulders slumped. “It’s just a guess. After Dad died, Mom sold all the businesses. At least the ones I knew about. Those other strip clubs… I had no idea about them, so I don’t know. I called the restaurants, a few of the new owners gave me the impression Mom and Dad had been…” She paused, shrugged. “Maybe they weren’t exactly living life on the up and up.”
“They were involved in some sort of criminal activity,” Brady clarified. “Any idea what?”
Kade gave her a go-ahead nod.
“We think maybe money laundering.”
“That makes sense. All those cash businesses, that would be my guess. Do you know who they were working for?”
“How could I? I knew nothing about it.”
“I understand that.” Brady tapped his pen on the table. “But maybe you have some names, some—”
“I don’t know anything.”
“Okay.” Brady wrote something on his pad. “Can you tell me the names of the people they worked with?”
When she said nothing, Brady set the pen down again. “I know you’re scared. Whoever searched your house in April was looking for something. You still claim you don’t know what?”
“It was nearly two months ago. They’re long gone.”
“We hope,” Brady said. “But what if these things are related?”
“How could they be? I don’t even know why you’d think that.”
“Call it a hunch,” he said.
Her lips were clamped shut. Kade was about to tell Brady what he knew, even though it would likely infuriate Ginny, when she pushed back in her chair, stood, and headed for her office.
They said nothing while they waited.
A few minutes later, she returned with a piece of paper. Kade glimpsed the list she’d typed, but he couldn’t make out any of the words. He guessed, though, that she was sharing the information she’d collected this spring. She’d kept notes when she’d called the businesses her parents owned. In the last few weeks, she’d been adding the names of her parents’ friends, their lawyer, a few other people Ginny had heard her parents mention in passing. With Kade by her side, she’d called a few of them, but nobody had given her any information she hadn’t already had. Either they’d known nothing or they hadn’t been willing to share.
She stood beside the table, the paper dangling from her fingers. “I don’t want my mother going to prison.”
Brady nodded. “I understand.”
Not a promise. Not even the hint of one. Brady would do what he’d promised to do, what the good citizens of Nutfield had hired him to do, even if it meant reporting Ginny’s mother.
After a long sigh, she held out the paper.
“Thank you for trusting me.” Brady set the paper on the table.
Kade tried to read the paperwork upside down while Brady studied it. Sure enough, he saw names, phone numbers, addresses, and how they were associated with her parents.
Brady asked about most of the names on the list, looking for what, Kade couldn’t guess. After a few minutes of going through a whole slew of names, Brady tapped the paper on a particular one. “This person, Yuri Petrovich. How do you know him?”
“I don’t really. He was at Dad’s funeral. I met him at the house afterward.”
“That was the only time you’d ever met him?”
“Why? Who is he?”
Brady’s expression indicated nothing.
She closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she said, “That was the only time I met him, yes. But I’d seen him once before. I met Dad for lunch about a week before his accident. It was the day Dad gave me this necklace.” She touched the pendant resting on her collarbone. “He got a call, and then said he had to go. We weren’t even finished with our meals—it was weird he left as fast as he did. As he walked out, a car pulled to the curb, and the back window rolled down. It was like something you’d see on TV. I mean, who has a driver these days?”
Brady said nothing.
Kade nodded his encouragement, but she didn’t see. She was focused on Brady.
“Anyway,” she said, “Dad walked around to get in the other side of the car. When he stepped away, I saw the guy’s face. It was Petrovich. He has a birthmark, you know like…” She tapped her forehead. “I can’t think. What’s the name of the Russian leader, the guy who was in charge when Reagan was president?”
“Gorbachev?” Brady supplied.
“Yeah, that guy. The birthmark wasn’t as big as Gorbachev’s, but I remembered it. When I met him a couple of weeks later, I thought it was funny that he was Russian, too, and had a similar birthmark. I think that’s why I remember his name.”
“And how did you come to meet him?”
“I told you, he was at our house.”
Brady’s smile was kind. “What I mean is, did your mother introduce you to him? Or did you introduce yourself?”
Ginny looked at the ceiling. “I was talking to some neighbors when he approached me.” She focused on Brady. “He shook my hand, told me his name, and said he was sorry for my loss. Nothing noteworthy.”
“But he introduced himself.”
“What difference does that make?” Kade asked.
Brady wrote something on his notepad, then glanced at Kade before focusing on Ginny again. “Probably none.” He looked over the paper she’d given him. “No other Russian names.” He tapped the paper with his pen. “Now that we’re thinking about Russian names, do any others come to mind? Maybe people you met in passing but didn’t think to add to the list?”
She shook her head. “I don’t remember any others.”
“Okay. This was your dad’s funeral, right? When was that?” Brady asked.
“He died a year ago. July second. The funeral was a couple of days later.”
Kade hadn’t known the anniversary was near. He tried to catch Ginny’s eye to offer solace or comfort or something, but she remained focused on Brady.
“What happened to him?” Brady asked.
“It was a car accident. We don’t know exactly what happened, but Mom said he’d not slept well the night before. Maybe he fell asleep. He went off the road, flipped the car, and crashed into a concrete barrier. He died instantly.”
“In San Francisco?”
“Oakland.”
He wrote that on his notepad. “What was he doing there?”
“He had businesses there. I assume something to do with that. What does all this have to do with the guy who broke into my house and the newspaper article?”
Brady shrugged. “Maybe nothing. I’m just trying to put some pieces together. And where’s your mother?”
Ginny shrugged as if it were no big deal that she didn’t know the answer to that. “She sold all the restaurants and the house. I don’t know where she went.”
“She didn’t tell you?” Brady asked.
“I didn’t ask.”
“When was the last time you talked to her?”
“The day of the break-in.”
“You told her what happened?”
Ginny nodded. “And that Kathryn had moved away.”
“Wait. Kathryn?” Brady studied his notes, then looked at her.
Ginny ran her hands through her hair. She looked so tired, so worn. Kade would give anything to make this easier for her.
“My sister and her family lived here in Nutfield for years. The day before the break-in, Kathryn left.” She gave Brady a quick rundown on what happened.
Brady made a few notes. “Did your sister say why she was leaving?”
She closed her eyes. A long moment passed, but she said nothing else.
“Ginny?” Brady’s voice was kind but insistent.
“She said I was in danger.” Ginny opened her eyes and met Brady’s gaze. “Kathryn said that I led people here, and that I should leave, change my name, and never look back.”
Brady sat back. “You don’t scare easily.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “I should have left.” She turned to Kade. “If I’m the reason you lose your development—”
“Don’t do that.” He reached for her hand, and she let him take it. “I want you to stay. This is your home. You should fight for it.”
“But at what cost?”
“That doesn’t matter,” Kade said. “Your safety matters.”
Ginny shifted to face Brady again. “That’s all she told me.”
“She gave you no names, no details?”
She shook her head.
“I take it you two weren’t close.”
Sadness crossed over Ginny’s face, but she said nothing.
“When did she move away from California?” Brady asked.
“Not long after we moved there, Kathryn transferred to Boston University. She met a guy, got married.”
Brady looked at his notes, tapped his pen on the table. “Did she go home for the funeral?”
“Yes, but she left immediately. She didn’t even stick around long enough to go to the house afterward.”
Brady’s gaze was far away. After a moment, he said, “So how would she know…? You said she told you that your parents’ associates were in town. How would she know that, if she lived here?”
“She said she saw someone in town who’d been at the funeral.”
Brady made a note on his pad, then tapped the pen against it, staring at nothing.
Ginny felt Kade’s gaze on her but didn’t meet it. All the shame about her past, the worry about her future, came back. What was she doing sitting here with these men? Brady couldn’t protect her, and Kade would destroy his life standing by her. “I’m an idiot for still being here.” Her words were whispered.
Kade stiffened beside her.
“Nobody thinks that.” Brady shook his head. “I can’t help but wonder why your sister wouldn’t have given you more information. Where is she now?”
Ginny just shrugged, and Brady made another note.
“Back to your mother,” he said. “You told her about Kathryn leaving and the break-in?”
“I hoped Mom would tell me what was going on, maybe who was after me.”
“I take it she didn’t?”
“She told me to run.”
Kade scooted close, rested his hand against Ginny’s back, and focused on Brady. “I told her to stay.”
“I’m glad you did.” Brady tapped his pen against the table. “Is there anything else you think I need to know?”
“I’m not sure you needed to know all of that.”
Brady slid the pen in his breast pocket. “If you think of anything else, even if it seems inconsequential, call me.”
“You know as much as I do now.”
He stood. “I should go. I’ll do some digging, see what I can find out. And then I’ll pay Bruce Collier a visit, see if he can shed any light on how he came by the information about you.”
They walked Brady to the door.
With his hand on the doorknob, Brady turned. “If I learn anything, I’ll let you know.” He pressed his lips together, shook his head. “Make sure you keep your doors locked and continue using your alarm. Maybe the newspaper article and your prowler aren’t related at all, but it never hurts to stay vigilant.”
Monday morning, after he’d read his Bible and prayed, Kade settled at the kitchen counter with his laptop. He usually preferred to work where he was surrounded by people, but he didn’t need anybody eavesdropping on today’s conversations.
He liked his condo, but he’d not made it home. It was supposed to be temporary, a place to live until he could build in Clearwater Heights. Since he’d graduated from college, he’d been working on this project. Every deal he’d made, every extra dollar he’d earned, he’d earmarked for developing his land. For a decade he’d been working, investing, working more, living on next to nothing in this tiny two-bedroom place. He’d foregone vacations, shopped sales, skimped on meals out, all so he could achieve his dream.
Now, everything he’d worked for was slipping away.
He closed his eyes and prayed for God’s help. God could fix it. God could redeem all of this, make it work out for his good, for Ginny’s good. Kade had to trust that God would do His part.
Today, Kade would do his.
After Brady had left Ginny’s house on Saturday afternoon, Kade stayed as long as he could to comfort her. But one glance at his silenced phone and the many missed messages, and he’d known he’d been out of reach too long.
He’d gone home and returned calls. By bedtime Saturday night, all those he’d spoken to were demanding their money back.
Sunday, he’d turned off his phone completely and asked Ginny to do the same. They found a church in Manchester and worshipped among people who didn’t know them. He hadn’t been trying to protect himself—he’d have been much better off going to his home church, facing down his accusers. But Ginny was still coming to faith in God, and he’d been afraid to put her in a situation where people might treat her as badly as the people at McNeal’s had. Especially Christians.
After church, they’d driven north to Lake Winnipesaukee, waded in the clear water, eaten burgers and fries and ice cream and purposely avoided talking about the issues that had bombarded them on Saturday.
But now it was Monday, and Kade needed to face it.
He powered on his phone and groaned as the messages loaded. He had… Could that be right? Twenty-five phone messages?
Even more texts.
He started with voicemail, put his phone on speaker, and prepared to take notes.
There wasn’t much to record, though.
Investor after investor calling to demand repayment. Friends, people he’d known for years, suddenly didn’t believe in him. Or if they did, they weren’t willing to risk losing their money because nobody else believed in him.
Technically, he didn’t have to give the invested money back. He wasn’t legally obligated to pay them anything until the project was complete. But that didn’t matter, and the investors knew it. They could get attorneys—some had already threatened to—and draw Kade into a legal battle that could last for years.
Either way, the result would be the same.
Kade would be ruined financially.
But with the article coming out on Wednesday, there was hope.
He called Tom first. On Saturday, Tom had demanded his investment back, but now that Kade felt he could share what he knew about Ginny’s past—much of it, anyway—he thought Tom would be the most likely investor to change his mind. They’d been friends and gone to church together for years. If anybody was going to trust him, Tom would.
If Tom stuck by him, then Kade could use his faith to bolster the faith of others.
His friend answered on the first ring. “How you doing, brother.”
Brother. Strong word, all things considered. “On Wednesday, the Gazette is printing a feature article on Ginny that will dig into her life and her family. It’ll turn public sentiment back to her and the country club. I thought I’d give you a heads’ up on what it’s going to say, give you the chance to change your mind about pulling out of the development. I’d hate for you to miss this opportunity.”
The words had sounded canned, unnatural. They’d been delivered too fast with an inauthentic cheerfulness. Kade should have practiced more.
On the other hand, he shouldn’t have had to practice telling a friend the truth.
“I look forward to reading it,” Tom said. “I guess we’ll talk on Wednesday. Still, I’d like my money back today.”
“Don’t you want to know—?”
“I have a business in this town,” Tom said. “I have a family to feed. I can’t risk my livelihood. If you’re wrong about that woman—”
“Her name is Ginny.”
“Yeah. I met her. She’s got the body for it. Did she ever work in any of those—?”
“Of course not!” Kade pushed back in his chair and stood. The suggestion had his hands clenching into fists, his adrenaline pumping.
“People do, you know. It’s not that shocking. And if she didn’t, that means she just profited from them.”
“Her parents profited. She was a child.”
“A decade ago, yeah, but now… Look, God can redeem anything. But the fact that she kept quiet about what she was involved in tells us a lot, doesn’t it? Repentance—”
“She doesn’t have anything to repent for.”
A short laugh was followed by, “I know you care about her. I know you believe in her. But a woman like that… I’m just saying you should keep your distance.”
A million responses filled his mind, most peppered with words that would only make things worse.
So he ended the call and banged the phone down on his granite countertop.
Took a deep breath.
Lifted the phone.
Excellent. He’d cracked the screen.
He dropped his head into his hands. If Tom didn’t believe in him, nobody would.
It rang, and he lifted it, looked through the crack at the name.
His bank. Could things get any worse?
He swiped the call to connect. “Kade Powers.”
“Kade, it’s Donald. After the news this weekend, where does your development stand?”
Kade spent twenty minutes giving his loan officer a rundown on what had happened and on the article that would be printed in Wednesday’s newspaper. He considered glossing over the details, but Donald wasn’t stupid. He had access to all the same information that Kade’s other investors did, and because he was local, he knew many of the same people. Glossing over the details would only serve to make things look worse.
Still, Kade focused on the article about Ginny. “When that comes out, people will see her differently. They’ll understand that she had nothing whatsoever to do with her parents’ businesses. She didn’t even know about the strip clubs until recently. She’s a kind, generous Christian woman who only wants what’s best for this town.”
“I hope that’s true. I know you believe it is.”
“Unequivocally.”
“Good.” Donald was not much older than Kade, a successful banker who understood real estate and risk. They’d known each other for years. “I hope you’re right about Ginny, so I’m willing to wait until the article on Wednesday.”
“Wait? For what?”
Donald blew out a long breath. “Yours is a demand loan, a short-term loan.”
“Right. Just to get us through until next year. When the lots are sold, I’ll have the money to pay it back.”
“Except nobody’s going to buy lots right now, Kade. Not unless—”
“It’s all going to turn around.”
“I hope you’re right,” Donald said. “But my boss is very nervous. We’re a small bank. We can’t absorb the loss if you default.”
“I’m not going to—”
“Demand loans are callable.”
Callable. That word ricocheted in his brain like a ping pong ball. Had Kade known that when he’d signed the papers? He could vaguely remember Donald explaining it along with some flippant remark like, but no need to worry about that. We only call loans if you miss your payments or suddenly become a bad risk.
Kade swallowed. “Don, you can’t—”
“We’ll be making a final determination on Friday.” Don’s friendly tone had disappeared. He was all business now. “Pull together all your financials, along with any other information you think might be relevant, and let’s plan to meet Thursday morning.”
“So much for friendship.”
“It’s out of my hands, Kade. This crazy story will blow over, but if you lose your investors before it does, then we’ll have no choice. I’m sorry.”
Two hours later, Kade spotted his father on the sidewalk at the airport in Manchester. His hair was nearly white, his slender build marked by a little paunch and stooped a bit, but he still seemed like the biggest man in the world to Kade.
He parked against the curb and climbed out of the car.
His father opened his arms, and Kade stepped into them.
“Good to see you, son.” Dad slapped his back a couple of times.
“I can’t believe you’re here.”
“Just for the day,” Dad said. “Darren called and told me what’s going on.”
Kade had been in the middle of calling more investors that morning—and getting more bad news—when his mom had phoned to tell him Dad was flying in and that Kade would need to get him from the airport.
“When is your flight back?”
“I need to be here by seven tonight.”
They settled in the car. “Where to?”
“Amazingly, the peanuts and coffee on the plane didn’t satisfy me. How about we find a place to eat?”
Kade glanced at the dashboard clock—just after eleven. “The Backroom?”
“Perfect.”
Twenty minutes later, they were seated and ordering at a restaurant that had been a family favorite as long as Kade could remember. The place, with its wood paneling and exposed overhead beams, its red carpet and brass accessories, had been in Manchester forever. Being here with his father, knowing Dad had flown from Florida to talk to him, made Kade feel loved. It also added a gnawing in his gut, the kind he’d gotten as a kid whenever he’d been caught breaking the rules.
He hated letting his father down. He hated being in this position, hated the failure that probably smelled stronger than the meals at adjacent tables. Part of him wanted to tell Dad everything was fine, skim over the details so he wouldn’t know the truth. But what foolishness would that be? Dad was the wisest man Kade knew. No doubt Dad would be disappointed in him when he found out everything that had happened. Heck, Kade was disappointed in himself.
Maybe Bruce had been right. Maybe Kade had aimed too high, too soon. Maybe he’d let his own pride and arrogance lead him to this place. The Bible said pride would come before the fall, and Kade was keeling headfirst toward a splat.
But as embarrassing, as shameful as the truth was, Kade had to face Dad’s disappointment in order to get to the advice that would surely come on the other side.
They made small talk until their lunches came—fried haddock for Dad and a pastrami sandwich for Kade. After the waitress left their meals, Dad nodded toward him. “Darren gave me just enough information to convince me to get on a plane. Tell me what’s going on.”
While Dad cut his fish, Kade sipped his drink and steeled his courage. He launched into the story of everything that had happened over the weekend, beginning with the call that woke him Saturday morning and ending with the call he’d gotten from the bank that morning.
Dad listened, offering little more than an occasional hmm as he ate his lunch. When Kade was finished, he waited through a long silence. He tried a potato chip, then followed that with a sip of Coke to settle his stomach.
Finally, Dad said, “You’re in a heckuva pickle. I’m disappointed that—”
“I know, I know.” Kade put his glass down. “I should have anticipated this. I should have had a plan. Maybe I should have waited longer, waited until I could invest more of my own money. Now, I’m not only going to lose everything, but I’ll probably have to sell the land you gave me just to survive. You built something amazing, and I’m ruining it. Ruining your legacy. I should have…” But he didn’t know what he should have done differently. Maybe that was his problem. He just wasn’t good enough, wasn’t smart enough. He couldn’t look his father in the eye, so he focused on his untouched sandwich.
His father pressed his back against the bench seat. “Are you finished?”
Kade forced himself to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry I disappointed you.”
“That’s not what I was going to say at all.” Frustration etched lines on his forehead and turned the corners of his mouth down.
It took all of Kade’s concentration not to let his shoulders slump, his head drop. He needed to look strong and confident, even if he didn’t feel it. The last thing he’d ever wanted to do was disappoint his father. Dad opened his mouth, and Kade braced himself.
“Son, how could I ever be disappointed in you?”
Kade blinked. What was that?
“You’ve made me proud every single day of your life. I brag about you to everyone I know.”
“But you just said—”
“I’m disappointed in your investors. In your friends and mine who jumped ship so fast. People have no backbone anymore.” Dad closed his lips, shook his head. “They’re so worried about perception, they’ve forgotten about loyalty. I’m disappointed that the people you thought you could count on have let you down. But you?”
When Dad met his gaze, Kade had to blink through the tingling feeling in his eyes.
“Son, there’s one man in a hundred, maybe in a thousand, who would stick by a girlfriend who brought him so much hardship.”
Wait… That’s not what Kade had expected. What was Dad saying, that he should throw Ginny over? That he should dump her?
“She’s not your wife,” Dad continued. “You’ve made her no promises as far as I know. You owe her nothing. And yet—”
“Dad, I can’t—”
“Don’t interrupt me. Please.” Dad took a deep breath. “You obviously care about her. She matters to you, and you’re not willing to sacrifice that relationship for anything—not money, not reputation, not pride. I don’t think I’ve ever been prouder.”
Proud? Could that be true?
“I only wish I had more time so that I could meet this woman who’s so captivated you.”
Kade swallowed. “Me, too.”
“I hate that you didn’t already know how I’d feel.” Dad sipped his iced tea. His hands trembled slightly as he set the glass down. “I’m sorry I wasn’t better about… You know, telling you stuff like that. I was always so consumed with business. Raising you was your mother’s job. The way you’re standing up against this attack proves she did it well.”
“You’re a great dad. I’ve admired you my whole life. I always wanted to be just like you. I just thought… You wouldn’t have gotten yourself into this mess. Or if you had, you’d see a way out.”
His father chuckled. “When I was your age, I’m not sure I’d have made the choice you’re making. The right choice. You’re a good man, Kade. Whatever happens now, if the development weathers this storm or if you lose everything, it doesn’t matter to me. I know you’ll find your way. And the land…” He waved the words away like he would a pesky fly. “That’s not my legacy. If I’m leaving any legacy, it’s you and your brothers and sister. The money, the land—those don’t matter.”
Fear, worry, and shame lifted like a fog. And when they did, what settled was determination. Kade hadn’t been defeated yet. He wouldn’t be defeated. “Do you have any advice for me?”
“I wish I could fund it for you, but it would be some time before I could get the cash. Most of our investments aren’t liquid. And even then… I don’t know—”
“I would never ask you.”
“Yeah.” Dad adjusted his napkin. “I kept waiting for you to ask us to invest. But you never did.”
“I wanted to do it on my own, to make you proud.”
“You think I wouldn’t have been proud?” Dad shook his head. “Just so you know, I am proud of you, I was proud of you before, and I’ll always be proud of you. And I would have been honored to invest.”
Kade wasn’t sure what to say. All he managed was, “I’m sorry.”
Dad lifted an onion ring and waved it his direction. “None of that. Your mom and I will pray that the article on Wednesday will do the trick. If it doesn’t, call me, and we’ll figure out a plan.”
With that, Dad changed the subject, and they enjoyed their lunches. Even though nothing was solved, nothing had changed, Kade felt stronger after talking to his father. He’d known all along that his father would be willing to help him. But Kade wasn’t going to risk his parents’ retirement on this project. What had seemed like a sure thing a week before suddenly felt risky. And even if his dad did want to help him, Kade needed more money than even Dad could gather.
Which meant Rae’s article in the Gazette would have to shift sentiment about the development and put Ginny back in their favor, or no amount of planning and strategizing with Dad would make any difference at all.