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“We can’t know the motivations at this point. But it’s a classic scheme. The Coast Guard has jurisdiction, and the Coasties default to seeing it as a boating accident. It’s just the way they work.”
“And you think the Rossis took the money to disappear and never see her again?”
“That’s what the facts tell me. Here’s what cinches it: over the two years before the accident, almost another two million plus was wired to the same Cayman account at American Atlantic Bank. One hundred K a month like clockwork.”
I asked what he expected me to ask. “Where did it come from?”
“A Tuscan Foods account. They’d planned this for two years and stashed money away for life after leaving.”
“Are you sure of all this?”
“It’s solid.” He paused. “Are you going to tell her?”
“Tell her that we think her parents abandoned her? I don’t know.”
“It beats being dead,” he pointed out. “Maybe they were being threatened by organized crime or something. It’s happened before—the parents leave to save the children.”
That changed the whole dynamic. “I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.” What could have made Nicole’s parents fake their deaths? Could it have been to protect her?
* * *
Nicole
In the morning,I found Winston in the kitchen when I came down for breakfast. “Where’s Constance?”
“Off on another job, so you’re stuck with me,” the big man said.
I pulled a bottle of orange juice from the fridge. “I’m glad you’re here. I had something I wanted to ask, actually.”
“Shoot.”
I held up the bottle. “Juice?”
“Sure.” He brought his glass over.
I poured for both of us. “Constance mentioned something about Habitat weekends.”
He brought the plate of waffles over to the table. “If you want to come along, you’re welcome. We can always use more hands.”
I joined him at the table. “And the Bensons go?”
He pulled two waffles onto his plate. “Yeah, the whole family, even Lloyd. Why?”
“It surprised me a little, I guess.”
“Why’s that?”
I stabbed a waffle. “It just did.”
He shot me an annoyed look. “Then you’re not as smart as Josh said you were.”
I cut off a bite of waffle, wondering if I should feel insulted.
“Look,” he said. “If the idea that Josh, or me, or the rest of his family spends a Sunday building houses for people who really need them surprises you, you’re not a very good judge of character.” He got up. “I’m going to check outside.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
His eyes darkened. “Let me just say this: there are things you think you know that are wrong.” He strode to the back door and opened it. “And not understanding how generous Josh is, is only one of them.”
