Found Money - James Grippando [19]
“No. But it can solve ours.”
“It might create more problems than it solves.”
“Only if you let it, Ryan. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to see my million dollars.”
He shook his head. “We can’t split it up until we have an agreement on what we’re going to do with it.”
“It’s my money. I’ll do what I want.”
“We have to stick together on this. There’s all kinds of issues to resolve. Not the least of which is possible estate tax.”
“Jeez, Ryan. Just take the money, and be happy.”
“I’m the executor of the estate. It’s my neck on the line. Blackmail is illegal, you know. We’re talking about receiving the proceeds of criminal activity. If we’re going to do it, we’re going to do it the right way.”
“And what is the right way?”
“I’ll keep the money hidden until we find out who Dad blackmailed and why. In the meantime, we tell no one about it. Not Liz. Not Brent. That way, the secret won’t slip out and the IRS won’t come crashing down on our heads. In the end, if we’re satisfied that Dad was right—if the man did deserve to be blackmailed—then we’ll keep it.”
“And if he didn’t deserve it?”
“Then we make a two-million-dollar anonymous donation to charity.”
“Get outta town!”
“That’s the deal, Sarah.”
“What if I don’t like it?”
“I don’t want to be a bully about this, but you don’t know where the money is. I do. If anybody gets greedy, I’ve already picked out a very deserving charity.”
“Shit, Ryan. That’s like extortion.”
“It must run in the family.”
She made a face.
“So,” he said. “We tell no one, not even Liz or Brent. Especially not Liz or Brent. Till I find out the truth. Do we have a deal?”
“I guess so,” she said, grumbling.
“Good.” He rose to help his sister from the chair. She waved him off, refusing his offer. He stepped aside as she waddled toward the door. He scratched his head and watched, wondering if the compromise was the right thing to do—and questioning the strength of Sarah’s commitment.
Ryan knew his sister was angry. She left the house immediately after their conversation, barely taking the time to say goodbye to their mother. He didn’t see any point in chasing after her. They’d each had their say. Hopefully she’d cool down on her own.
His mother and aunts were bouncing back and forth between the kitchen and dining room cleaning up. Staying busy was certainly one way to stave off the loneliness, the crying jags. Ryan escaped to the family room and switched on the evening news. A flood in India had killed eighty-six people. A convenience store clerk had been shot to death in Fort Collins.
A working stiff in Piedmont Springs just died in his sleep. The last one didn’t make the news. No violence, no fascination, no news. Should have jumped off a building, Dad.
Ryan paused, wondering if his father had succumbed to the thinking that a life wasn’t worthy unless it was newsworthy. Dad had always short-changed his own accomplishments, never fully seeing the beauty in the way he made others feel good about themselves, one person at a time. Most people didn’t think the cashier at the grocery store or the gas station attendant were worth their time. Frank Duffy knew their names, and they knew his. He had the magic touch with everyone. That was something to be proud of. Yet Ryan remembered back in high school, when his acceptance letter had come from the University of Colorado. The first Duffy to go to college. His father had been more excited than anyone, embracing him so hard he’d nearly cracked a rib as he whispered in Ryan’s ear, “Now the Duffys finally have something to be proud of.” At the time, Ryan had thought it sad that his father didn’t feel the pride he rightfully should have felt. Now he could only wonder what secrets had made him feel so ashamed.
The news was turning to sports when Ryan heard a knock on the front door. He rose from the couch and answered it.
“Liz,” he said with surprise.
His wife stood in the doorway, tentative. “Can—can I come in?”
He stepped aside awkwardly. “Of course. Come in.”
Liz was wearing a casual print sundress,