Read Online Grace Doll by Jennifer Laurens - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jennifer Laurens
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Solomon.
I dial him.“This is harassment.”
“I could say the same to you, calling me at this hour.”
“That was one of your goons out front just now.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about your Bentley—the one with no license plates and black windows to hide your hideous face.”
Silence.
“I realize your inexcusable behavior is a result of your father’s negligence.”
“Shut up. Come near me again and I’ll call the cops.”
“You said that already. I believe you know more than you’re letting on about my wife. I’ll double my offer. Four hundred dollars.”
I click off the phone. That’s all he’s willing to pay to know where Grace Doll is? She’s alive, living less than a thousand miles from here. The impact of this twilight-zone reality smacks me in the chest.
I dig through my wallet for Mr. Ridgeway’s card. It’s six a.m. now. So what if it’s early? I’m desperate. He picks up after three rings.
“Hello.”
“Mr. Ridgeway, it’s Brenden Lane.”
“Brenden. Everything all right?”
No. “Yeah. How do I get ahold of the trust Dad set up?”
“You and I will have to make arrangements so you can sign the paperwork.”
“I need to do that as soon as possible.”
We plan to meet at his office. That gives me two hours to check out travel options. I turn on my laptop and begin the process of making a flight reservation, but I don’t have a credit card. I’m going to need that trust fund money if I’m going anywhere.
The last thing I want to do is face questions from Judy. I shower, dress, and pack a change of shirts and boxers into my backpack. I slide my sketchbook, and drawing pencils inside, grab my keys and am on the road with an hour to kill. Cuppa Joe’s is near the freeway entrance. I pick up a coffee and get on the 405. Toluca Lake is just over the hill. Traffic crawls in the morning through the pass.
Dick Ridgeway’s corner office on Riverside Drive is easy to find. I park in the back and jog to the double glass doors in front. A blond receptionist smiles and leads me down a hall. The place smells like Dad’s chair: a mix of cologne and leather.
My nerves rattle to get this whole strange thing over with. I feel like a clock has been wound tight inside of me and it’s ready to spring. Dick explains that I have access to three thousand dollars for travel expenses. Once the package is delivered the entire amount—$150,000 goes to me, with the provision that the contents of the security deposit box remains in Grace Doll’s possession. Stunned, I can’t speak.
He hands me a leather checkbook and a credit card. He eyes me. “Whatever Jon wants you to do, he considered it his number one priority. It’s all he talked about the last time I spoke to him. He also told me over and over again that this needs to remain private. ”
I nod.
Dazed from the news, my stride back to my car is slow. One hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Why didn’t Dad tell me about this? A stab of guilt thrusts through my gut. All of my anger and frustration—things I’ve said—I could have avoided all of that, if he’d told me. Why did he wait until he was gone?
Because this is about her, not you. I hate that my head reverts to his neglect, that I can’t accept and enjoy what might be a gift. No gift. This is him, thinking of only him. Using you.
“This is effed up,” I mutter, starting up the engine. Just what does he expect from me? Loyalty? He must have viewed our relationship as something he was okay with, to ask this of me. The suggestion surprises me, but at the same time Dad, with his casual, easy-going nature might have come to that conclusion. Get this errand over with so you can get on with your life. I snort and pull into traffic. What life? At least I will have some money once I get the old lady her box.
Grace’s face drifts into my head. What was so special about her that Solomon and Dad were willing to do anything for her? If
I dial him.“This is harassment.”
“I could say the same to you, calling me at this hour.”
“That was one of your goons out front just now.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about your Bentley—the one with no license plates and black windows to hide your hideous face.”
Silence.
“I realize your inexcusable behavior is a result of your father’s negligence.”
“Shut up. Come near me again and I’ll call the cops.”
“You said that already. I believe you know more than you’re letting on about my wife. I’ll double my offer. Four hundred dollars.”
I click off the phone. That’s all he’s willing to pay to know where Grace Doll is? She’s alive, living less than a thousand miles from here. The impact of this twilight-zone reality smacks me in the chest.
I dig through my wallet for Mr. Ridgeway’s card. It’s six a.m. now. So what if it’s early? I’m desperate. He picks up after three rings.
“Hello.”
“Mr. Ridgeway, it’s Brenden Lane.”
“Brenden. Everything all right?”
No. “Yeah. How do I get ahold of the trust Dad set up?”
“You and I will have to make arrangements so you can sign the paperwork.”
“I need to do that as soon as possible.”
We plan to meet at his office. That gives me two hours to check out travel options. I turn on my laptop and begin the process of making a flight reservation, but I don’t have a credit card. I’m going to need that trust fund money if I’m going anywhere.
The last thing I want to do is face questions from Judy. I shower, dress, and pack a change of shirts and boxers into my backpack. I slide my sketchbook, and drawing pencils inside, grab my keys and am on the road with an hour to kill. Cuppa Joe’s is near the freeway entrance. I pick up a coffee and get on the 405. Toluca Lake is just over the hill. Traffic crawls in the morning through the pass.
Dick Ridgeway’s corner office on Riverside Drive is easy to find. I park in the back and jog to the double glass doors in front. A blond receptionist smiles and leads me down a hall. The place smells like Dad’s chair: a mix of cologne and leather.
My nerves rattle to get this whole strange thing over with. I feel like a clock has been wound tight inside of me and it’s ready to spring. Dick explains that I have access to three thousand dollars for travel expenses. Once the package is delivered the entire amount—$150,000 goes to me, with the provision that the contents of the security deposit box remains in Grace Doll’s possession. Stunned, I can’t speak.
He hands me a leather checkbook and a credit card. He eyes me. “Whatever Jon wants you to do, he considered it his number one priority. It’s all he talked about the last time I spoke to him. He also told me over and over again that this needs to remain private. ”
I nod.
Dazed from the news, my stride back to my car is slow. One hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Why didn’t Dad tell me about this? A stab of guilt thrusts through my gut. All of my anger and frustration—things I’ve said—I could have avoided all of that, if he’d told me. Why did he wait until he was gone?
Because this is about her, not you. I hate that my head reverts to his neglect, that I can’t accept and enjoy what might be a gift. No gift. This is him, thinking of only him. Using you.
“This is effed up,” I mutter, starting up the engine. Just what does he expect from me? Loyalty? He must have viewed our relationship as something he was okay with, to ask this of me. The suggestion surprises me, but at the same time Dad, with his casual, easy-going nature might have come to that conclusion. Get this errand over with so you can get on with your life. I snort and pull into traffic. What life? At least I will have some money once I get the old lady her box.
Grace’s face drifts into my head. What was so special about her that Solomon and Dad were willing to do anything for her? If
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