A Place to Belong. Linda Goodnight
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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