Chapter 26

Joel Lancaster wasn't in any better mood driving home that afternoon than he'd been when he left the house in the morning. In fact, it was a lot worse. Damn it, he had obligations coming due, and soon; Big Ed was getting very antsy about his money, and there had been a nasty phone call at midday that hadn't helped any. If only the money from Rachel's land would come through – then he'd be out of the woods with a little left over for breathing room. But no, nothing was happening up there in that godforsaken wasteland; the real estate agent said that there hadn't been any activity in timberland transfers recently, on their piece or anything else. The little slant-eye was probably lying; she hadn't figured it would be worth the trouble to get out and advertise the property, but there wasn't a hell of a lot he could do about it at this distance.

Just why the hell hadn't Rachel's grandfather left her cash, instead of a pile of useless land that probably wouldn't be able to be sold for years? It was like money in the bank that couldn't be gotten to, and God knew he had a use for the money. It had been months now, and there hadn't seemed to be anything that could be done.

In the last few weeks he'd been able to come up with a good idea about it – mortgage the land, and that would give him enough cash to get Big Ed off his back for a while. But that wasn't as simple as it seemed. He hadn't been able to come up with a mortgage company that would give him enough loan value on the land, mostly because it was so far away and of an unknown worth. Now, if it had been in California he could have had it arranged in a minute. Rachel would have to sign the mortgage, of course, but that wasn't a problem – he could make her do it, and the mortgage would be in her name. Of course, she couldn't make payments on it so it would wind up being picked up by the mortgage company, so no great loss. It was the roundabout way of doing it but it came out at the same place – he'd get the money out of it, maybe not as much as it was worth or as much as he needed, but enough to patch things up for a while.

Now, if the deal in the Northrise loan package worked out and a few more people defaulted on their mortgages, he could pick up a few homes cheap, resell them at a profit, and come out sitting pretty, but that would take time, too. At least he'd have Big Ed taken care of for a while. He'd gone to him for short-term financing on a couple deals – hated having to it as was an under-the-table deal, and Big Ed was on the shady side – but you have to take a risk once in a while, he thought.

Christ, he hoped Rachel would have something decent for dinner, especially after that abortion of a breakfast she'd served in the morning. She should have known better than to pull something like that, pancakes instead of waffles. That really had pissed him off, and she had to be kept in her place. Sometimes he wondered why he'd married her. Damn it, he knew her old man had some money, and there were better places it could be used than in some damn wood plant up in the middle of nowhere. But could he get any of that money? Shit no, just a bunch of damn useless trees! They were just a bunch of useless turds, especially that goddamn Randy! Where the hell did Rachel's grandfather think he was getting off, leaving a perfectly good company to that self-important little shit? By all rights, Rachel should have gotten it, or at least a good part of it, not the useless shit that had been left over. Jesus, he'd like to kick that little shit's ass! There was no goddamn reason at all that the little shit had to come out smelling like a rose on that deal.

Joel let out a sigh. Just about the first thing he'd done when they got back to civilization back in January was to go talk to a lawyer about the whole legacy, to see if Rachel couldn't get at least her fair share out of it, and more if possible. But the goddamn shyster had told him that it wasn't worth bothering about – the trust had been airtight under Michigan law, and the distribution had already been made. That meant that Ryan Clark and that backwoods fool he had for an attorney had given him the bum's rush out of town with nothing but shit in his hands. Yeah, so technically it was Rachel's but that didn't mean anything; it was the same as if it was his. Where the fuck did Clark think he was getting off playing him for a fool like that? Fuck, Rachel was probably behind it, she talked back and forth with her family all the damn time, going behind his back. That was a sack of shit and couldn't be tolerated. She couldn't be allowed to think anything other than she had to do what he told her to do, at least until he got a reasonable amount of usable cash out of that fucking timberland.

After that, who knew? It was probably worth keeping her around; when her old man kicked off, probably not soon, he ought to be leaving her a wad of money, but that was about the only good reason he could think of. Well, to take care of the kid and keep him out of his hair, not that she was very good at that, either. Shit, he had to be on her goddamn case all the damn time just to keep some semblance of order and give him some of the respect he deserved.

He pulled into the driveway, even more steamed than he'd been when he left work. Shit, she'd probably want to go out to the fucking grocery store tonight, and there was no doubt that he'd have to go with her no matter how much he felt otherwise. She couldn't be depended on to get food that he liked unless he was standing over her. He didn't want to let her out with the car by herself, because she couldn't be trusted with it, and there was no way in hell he could allow her to have a car of her own, since there was no telling where she might go with it. Not having wheels kept her pretty well at home where she belonged since it was harder for her to get him into trouble that way.

He unlocked the door, went inside, and yelled, "Rachel! I'm home! When's dinner?" He got no reply. That was strange, she knew better than to ignore him. He glanced around the kitchen and noticed that there was nothing cooking on the stove or in the microwave. That was also strange; even though he didn't always get home at the same time she knew enough to have something pretty well ready to eat when he got there. It had taken a hell of a long time to teach her that much.

"Rachel!" he yelled again, louder this time. "Where the fuck are you?"

Again there was silence. At least the TV was off. She spent all too much time glued to the damn thing, but at least she knew he didn't like the continual babble of the shit she watched, and she usually turned it off when she heard him drive in. Damn it, she should have paid attention to him by now!

He walked into the living room, but there was still no sign of her, or of the kid, for that matter. The house was very quiet – it was possible that both of them were taking a nap, but she knew better than to be pulling that shit when he got home. Something didn't seem right, so he glanced into the kid's bedroom. It seemed neat and clean for once; there was nothing left out like there usually was. Good, maybe she'd done something useful for once today. He moved on into their bedroom, but there was no sign of her there, either.

At least he could get out of the goddamn suit and tie and into some reasonable clothes. He yanked open the closet door after he peeled out of the suit coat – it was miserable to have to wear the damn thing in the good California weather, but it was pretty much expected so there was no avoiding it – and then he got a shock. His clothes were there, of course, but hers were gone. Missing. All of them just not there. What the fuck?

He went back into the kid's bedroom and looked a little closer. He yanked open the closet door, expecting to see it piled high with all the toys and crap the kid collected, but it was empty – well, there were a few loose papers and stuff, nothing that amounted to anything. A look in his dresser showed there was nothing there, either. It had been cleaned out.

Only then did the reality hit him. She and the kid were gone, and not just gone a little; they'd cleaned out everything in the process. Christ almighty, where did she get off thinking she could pull that shit on him?

God damn it to hell! If she was gone, it was going to raise hell with getting that million and something he needed to get Big Ed off his ass! Christ on a crutch! He went back out to the living room – he needed to sit down and think about this. As he walked over to his chair, he saw a pile of papers scattered around in it. "What the fuck is this shit?" he said out loud, and swept them onto the floor so he'd have a place to sit – but when he looked down, he saw that they weren't just papers, but photos.

Photos of Kelly and him in bed last Thursday, to be precise – printed on a laser printer, so they weren't originals; he could tell that much. Where the fuck did she get that? He wondered about it as he gathered the papers up and sat down in the chair. Damn, that Kelly was a fine figure of a woman, he'd had a good time with her, and there were a lot of photos showing it. He'd suspected that Rachel had some idea that he was getting a little on the side, but how the fuck could she have known about Kelly, and where did she get the photos?

There was no way Rachel could have taken them, he realized. But the photos pretty well said that she knew about what he'd been up to, and that she was gone. She must have hired a professional to get them, but where the hell would she find the money to do that?

Her goddamn family, of course, he realized as he stared at the photos of him getting it on with Kelly. That fucking proved that he hadn't come down hard enough on Rachel for jabbering back and forth to them all the damn time. By God, when he got her back, she wasn't going to talk to them, ever. There was no doubt he had to get her back – he needed that money, and soon, or he was going to have Big Ed all over his ass, and maybe worse.