False Pretenses - Kathy Herman [109]
“I can’t be married to someone I don’t trust.”
“You’re feeling betrayed right now. That’s understandable. But I wish you’d take some time to consider everything before you act in haste.” Burke seemed nervous and kept glancing at his watch. “I’ve still got a few minutes before I have to leave. I’m going to step out on a limb and tell you something I’ve never told anyone, except your mother.”
Pierce glanced over at his dad and noticed his face was flushed. “What is it?”
Burke cracked his knuckles and looked straight ahead. “After your mother and I had been married a year, we talked about buying a house and having a baby. We were both working our tails off, saving every penny we could. Making a baby was the easy part. The house was another matter.” Burke pursed his lips, his eyes squinted. “Wouldn’t you know, the perfect house came on the market and your mother went nuts over it. We only needed another three thousand dollars for the down payment, but there was no way we could borrow it. She really wanted that house.”
Pierce shifted his weight. Did he want to hear the rest of the story? His dad was his hero.
“Stay with me,” Burke said. “I’ll get to the point here in a minute. Seeing your mom’s excitement about the house made me want to get it for her more than anything in the world. At the time, I was a painter. And a guy named Jacob Daigle hired me to paint the inside of his lake house. Big job—eight thousand square feet. The man had an amazing collection of artwork—oils, charcoals, pastels, pencil sketches—you name it. Daigle had one large oil painting of pelicans on a marina—really an amazing piece. I remember thinking it was a shame that he had hung it in an obscure room that looked like a library for paperback books.”
“I’m not sure I like where this is going, Dad.”
“Just hear me out. I’ll never have the guts to bring this up again. One night after I sent my crew home for the day, I took the painting and put it in my van. I hadn’t planned to do it. My justification was that Daigle had hundreds of thousands of dollars tied up in artwork, and he wasn’t going to miss one painting that meant nothing to him, but it might enable your mother and me to get the house. The next morning, I took it to a dealer and found out the artist was some big shot down the bayou. The dealer gave me a money order for thirty-five hundred, and I didn’t haggle with him.”
Pierce shook his head. “Weren’t you afraid of getting caught?”
“Sure. But no one could prove it. I figured I’d just deny everything with a straight face. I mean there were paintings all over that house. I hung a different painting in its place and doubted Daigle would even miss it right off. And when he did, there wouldn’t be any way for him to prove I took it.”
“Did you tell Mom?”
“How could I? She would never have let me keep the money. And I wanted to get that house for her more than anything.” Burke’s eyes brimmed with tears, his chin quivering. “So I came up with a plan. I told your mother that a guy I used to work with on the oil rig bought a boat and wanted to take me deep-sea fishing. I went down to Grand Isle for the weekend. I went fishing all right, but only from the pier. I wanted to get some sun so I looked believable.”
Pierce couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His dad was a thief? And a liar?
“I came home from fishing and told your mom that my friend had also taken me to the race track—and that my horse won big. I picked her up, spun her around, and told her how much it was. I’d never seen her so happy. We bought that house, son. You’re sitting in it right now.”
“I grew up in a house you bought with dishonest money?”
“Part of the down payment was. I’m not proud of it.” Burke put his face in his hands. “Five years ago, right after you and Zoe were married, I went back to Mr. Daigle’s place with a check for the thirty-five hundred. I was ready to tell him the whole truth.”
“What’d he say?”
“He had passed away the year before. His daughter owned the house. I told her my story, and she was shocked that I came back to