Family Matters (2 page)

She nodded. “I've taken business and art management classes and spent a summer supervising an art festival in Chicago. Outlining a game plan for an amusement park will be a snap.”

Matt locked gazes with her. His eyes, now dark again, generated enough heat to make her flush—outside
and
in. Even so, she stood unblinking, unable to force herself to look away. Frozen in place, like Bambi trapped by the headlights of an oncoming 18-wheeler.

 

O
VER HER SHOULDER,
Kerry watched Albie lead Matt Lawrence from the room. Matt continued talking, fast and furiously, even as they went through the doorway into the hall. He hadn't been at all happy about Uncle Bren's reprieve.

The rest of the group disbanded, leaving the game room quickly and a lot more quietly than Matt had done. Somehow, Gran had slipped away with them, too.

Fine with Kerry. She needed time alone with Uncle Bren, a chance to get the full story, without anyone—especially that lawyer—in their vicinity.

Sighing in relief, she turned back to her wayward relative, put her hands on her hips and looked up at him.

“Well, it's grand to see you,” he said hurriedly, in an obvious attempt at nonchalance that didn't fool her one bit. “But
I thought you were still wrapping things up at that school of yours. What brings you here?”

“What…?” Struggling to snap her mouth shut, she focused on the rack of pool cues on the wall beside them. By the time she'd counted every last one, she could speak in a normal tone again. More or less.

“Tell me you're not serious, Uncle Bren. After the voice mail you left me? And then when I couldn't reach either you or Gran at the house and Gran didn't answer her cell phone…?”

“Nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing?”
That was the trouble with her uncle. Or the secret to his success. He could never see the error of his own ways. “No, nothing to concern me—only the thought of you being arrested for who knows what. Oh, Uncle Bren…”

She loved her family. Every last crazy one of them.

The stress of her frantic three-hour trip home, filled with worry about them, and then the shock of what had just taken place—all of it suddenly took its toll. Her despair must have shown in her shaking voice and slumping shoulders because he opened his arms wide to her.

She reached up, hugged him fiercely, then stepped back, the better to observe him. Even though he was nearing sixty, he looked the same as always, from as far back as her memory could take her. Broad-shouldered, dark-haired, with maybe a touch more silver now highlighting his temples, Maeve MacBride's eldest son made what her friends often called “a fine figure of a man.” Bright blue eyes looked at her guilelessly, as if he hadn't a care in the world.

So typically Uncle Bren.

“Honestly, what were you thinking?” She shook her head. “The park has sat abandoned for years. Every single building on the pier is probably falling-down rotten. Please tell me—what in the world ever made you buy Rainbow's End?”

“I can do better than talk about it. I'll show you.” He urged her toward the door.

Surrendering to the inevitable, she let him escort her from the room.

At the other end of the hallway, Matt stood near the management office talking emphatically to Albie Gardner. When he saw them, he cut himself off and stared. The look he sent their way gave her a chill, making her practically push Uncle Bren through the clubhouse's front doors.

Kerry followed Uncle Bren outside into the fragrance and—to her—much-welcomed warmth of the mid-June afternoon. When he took her by the arm, she let him steer her toward the edge of a gentle grassy slope leading down to the lake that gave the town its name.

He swept his free hand majestically in the air and beamed, his unblinking gaze directed forward…until he looked from the corner of his eye and noticed she hadn't followed his lead. Raising his eyebrows, he gestured even more dramatically.

Sighing, she dragged her gaze across the sun-dappled water to the farside of the lake. There, a cluster of buildings sat on a small pier hugging the south shore. The sweeping curves of a roller coaster filled one end of the miniature boardwalk. The rounded frame of a Ferris wheel towered over it all.

The amusement park had closed down during her high school days and the rides had ceased running years before that. Still, the sight of Rainbow's End stirred many of her childhood memories. A great many of which she'd rather forget.

Swallowing hard, she did her best to hold back a groan. “What do you want with an old amusement park, anyhow? Did you even discuss this with Gran first?”

“Sure I did, and she's jumped on the deal with me—”

“No.”
This time, her groan escaped despite her effort to contain it. “Please tell me you didn't coerce her—”

“Kerry.”

She tried to ignore his jaw-sagging expression of hurt. He was the man of a million faces, and who knew which ones you could trust?

“What do you take me for?” he went on. “Of course I didn't twist your gran's arm. Joining in was all her own idea.” He grinned and added, “Besides, you know she won't do anything she doesn't have a mind to do.”

“True enough.” She tried a smile, feeling her face stretch like a newly framed canvas. “So. What exactly is your plan?”

“Rejuvenation!” he cried in the tones of a snake-oil salesman. “Revitalization! Resurrection! Put another way, we're going to bring Rainbow's End back to life.”

“Not if that hotheaded lawyer kills it.” The image of Matt's dark eyes was enough to make her shiver. This time, she wasn't sure why.

“Ah, now, Kerry, me girl, you'll not be doubting your uncle Brendan?”

The accentuated lilt in his voice gave him away. Gran always said Uncle Bren became more Irish than the Irish when he had something cooking. How could his own mother, knowing him so well, have fallen for his crazy scheme?

But of course, Gran was another unsteady branch on the MacBride family tree.

“It's all right,” he continued. “That lad shook people up a bit just now, but I'd already won them over. Don't worry about a thing, Kerry—you know I kissed the Stone years ago.” She'd heard
that
bit of blarney before, with the previous idea. And all the ones before it. She swallowed the thoughts along with another gulp of air and asked, “What's the story with this lawyer?”

“Well, y'see…one of the ladies living here invested in the property with us—all her own doing, of course.”

“Of course.”

“And her son's giving her a hard time over it.”

She thought of the tall woman who had hovered near the lawyer. The woman he'd called “Mom.” “Not Matt Lawrence?” she asked without much hope.

“The very same.” His sigh could have registered as a mini earthquake on the Richter scale. “He's got a bug up his britches about the whole deal. He positively insists he wants his ma's money returned. Obnoxious in manner he is about it, too—you saw him. But—” he rushed on before she could speak “—she advised we ignore the boy. Though that's hard to do when he's shown up on her doorstep.”

“And when he's threatening you with legal action, if that's what your phone message meant.” She crossed her arms and stared at him. “You've
got
to refund that one woman's money, at least, to get that attorney out of your hair.”

“I can't.”

“But—” Her tight throat made her choke on the words. “What happened to the money?”

“It's gone.”

“You spent it
all
on that piece of…property over there?”

“Well, no. I wanted to get a jump on things, so I bought a few supplies, as well.”

Luckily the tight throat held back her groan, too. “All right, it's not a major problem. You can return the supplies. And then you can see about selling the property, so you can return everyone's investment.”

That earned her his guileless gaze once more. “What now, Uncle Bren?”

“Y'see…” He shrugged. “The owner drove a real hard bargain…”

“You're not telling me you paid more than market value?”

“Well, I didn't know at the time.” He gave her a sheepish grin. “Besides, Rainbow's End is worth
any
amount of money to all of us here.”

She closed her eyes, wishing that she had never woken up that morning. That she'd forgotten to charge her cell phone. That her parents had given her away at birth.

She couldn't wait to get an ocean away from here.

“The property could be a gold mine, Kerry.”

Fool's gold, more than likely.
But she didn't have the heart to say it aloud.

Just a few more days….
After closing up her classroom tomorrow, she would come back to Lakeside again for the weekend, whip Uncle Bren's proposal into shape and get him ready to take over this questionable enterprise.

Then she would go ahead with her own plans.

Opening her eyes, she looked at him and faked a reassuring smile.

He smiled back, tentatively at first, but then quickly recovered his normal happy-go-lucky grin. “It'll all work out, Kerry. That lawyer won't bother us again. You'll see.”

All she could envision was the intensely bothersome Matt Lawrence as she'd seen him last, standing in the hallway with Albie and glaring at Kerry and Uncle Bren. Even the warm sunshine couldn't chase away the chill that sight had given her. This told her plainly their troubles with him weren't over yet.

In fact, they might just have begun.

 

W
EARILY,
M
ATT MOVED TOWARD
the exit door of the clubhouse, his thoughts chaotic. He'd gotten nowhere with Albie Gardner, who insisted MacBride could have time to pull things together.

To Matt's way of thinking, that wasn't going to happen. But he was stymied now, stuck waiting for a couple of days before he could shoot down any cockeyed plan the man came up with. And Matt felt certain he could do it. He would have to.

He had to get his mom out of this mess.

She'd been taken in once before by a con man—the one she'd married. The one who had repaid his family's love by walking out on them.

The memory of his father storming out the door filled Matt with disgust. Still a child, he had sworn from that day forward he would protect his mother.

A promise he had spent all his adult life trying—and failing—to fulfill.

This time, he would succeed.

“Oh, Matthew.”

The voice came unexpectedly from behind him, and he turned back. An older woman approached him, her step quick and sure. With her white hair, flowered dress and fluffy scarf, Maeve MacBride looked the picture of innocence. The perfect sweet old granny. Only she was the snake's mother, so how sweet and innocent could she be?

He tried to ignore the fact, attempted to think of her as any other elderly lady.

“Are you leaving us?” she asked, her lilting Irish brogue evidence of a childhood spent in the old country.

“Yes.” They moved toward the exit. He held the door and escorted her out of the building. “But not right this minute.” He'd just caught sight of MacBride across the walkway from the clubhouse.
Mom's so-called friend.
Beside him stood the cute redhead who'd defended the man during that fiasco of a meeting.

With mixed emotions, Matt moved forward.

Maeve sidestepped in front of him so abruptly he almost
crashed into her. Quickly, he rested a steadying hand on her arm. “What's wrong?”

“Just a touch of the sun.” Her voice faltered. “Need a minute to get my old eyes adjusted.”

He looked around. There was a sturdy wood and cast-iron bench conveniently placed just a few feet from the entrance doors. “Would you like to sit down?”

“Well, I…” She glanced toward her son and the redhead, then back at him. “No need. You can unhand me, laddie. All's well.”

Matt followed her gaze. The redhead now stood alone. MacBride was long gone.

He snapped his gaze back to Maeve. Sure enough, she stood peering up at him, her eyes bright and cheery—and in no way affected by the sun. His suspicions confirmed, he frowned. So, she was sharper than she appeared, and a scam artist in her own right. “Looks like I'll need to keep a close watch on
two
…MacBrides,” he muttered.

“You'll need to do more than that,” she said. “The girl you're eyeing six ways to Sunday is my granddaughter, Kerry Anne. Haven't you noticed the family resemblance?” She cackled a laugh and turned away.

Good thing he wasn't facing a jury right now, because he'd abruptly lost the power of speech. No wonder, back in the game room, Kerry Anne had hung so tightly on to MacBride.

With an uncle like that one, he felt for the woman. But that didn't change things. He needed to keep his promise. He had to protect Mom's savings—and everyone else's—no matter what. Surely Kerry Anne would understand.

He slipped on his sunglasses, then crossed the walkway toward her. Even from a distance, he could see her shoulders stiffen. Not very welcoming, obviously. But with any luck, despite the way she'd acted in the game room, maybe he'd found
the one sane member of the MacBride family. And maybe, given the right information, she would be reasonable.

If that didn't work, he'd just have to win her over to his side.

As he moved closer, he took the time to appreciate the things about her he hadn't had the opportunity to notice before. A mass of red curls, trembling slightly in the breeze. A firm jaw—trouble there, for sure. A petite figure clad in a dark blue T-shirt and jeans.

He stopped before her. “We meet again. Under better circumstances this time.”

“You think so?”

A tough one. But he'd never met an unwilling witness he couldn't crack. “In neutral territory, then.”

No response, as expected.

In the bright sunshine, her scattering of freckles tried to fight their way through the dusting of makeup she'd brushed across her cheeks. He bet she'd look great without the cover-up. Hell, she was cute enough now. Although,
cute
didn't accurately describe her combination of kiddie freckles and grown-up curves.

“You—” He cleared his throat and tried again. “I hear you're Maeve MacBride's granddaughter.”

“That's right.” She jerked to such ramrod-straight attention she gained another inch in height. It still didn't bring her to his chin level.

“Then that makes you Brendan MacBride's niece.”

“All my life.” It looked like she wanted to add something else, but instead clamped her soft lips into a hard line and stared at him.

“Pleased to meet you,” he said mildly.

She blinked.

“Have you got a minute? I'd like to talk.” He gestured to the bench near the clubhouse.

She looked at him with narrowed eyes for a moment before moving without a word to take a seat on the bench.

He sat beside her, deliberately dropping into a loose-limbed, nonconfrontational sprawl and planning to ease into the important things he needed to say. “I don't know how much you and your uncle have discussed this…project your uncle's come up with. You do realize he's taken money from a group of unsuspecting people.”
So much for easing into the topic.

She shifted away from him and crossed her arms. “They didn't seem unsuspecting to me.”

“You weren't there for the beginning of the meeting. Or for the conversations that went on before that.”

Her brow crinkled as she frowned. Obviously, she thought things out about as well as her uncle did—which meant, not at all.

“Look, Kerry Anne—”

“Just Kerry.”

“And just Matt. Kerry, you're a reasonable woman, I'm sure. Think how you would feel if a relative of yours had tied up her savings in a risky proposition like this one.”

He'd figured Maeve MacBride had lent financial support to Bren, possibly using funds she couldn't afford to lose. Kerry's expressive face told him he'd guessed right. A little more straight talk, and she would be his.

“You know, I said it before,” he began, “the whole idea was doomed from the start.”

“What do you mean?”

“You can't renovate property without following city ordinances.”

One corner of her mouth twitched. “I'm sure Uncle Bren's aware of that.”

“Then there are the required licenses and permits. And
following up with contractors to make sure the construction is in compliance.”

“Of course.”

He frowned. “There are all kinds of regulations governing the running of a business.”

“Aren't there always?”

The ready responses irritated him. The woman hadn't a clue what she was talking about. “Taxes, payroll, accounts payable.”

“Well, naturally.”

The smug tone finally did him in. Didn't she realize the enormity of the situation? “And your uncle planned to do all this with money he'd gotten from a scam.”

She hissed an indrawn breath and stood.
That
had shaken her, all right.

The news had shaken him, too, when he'd first heard it from his mom. After all he'd done to help her safeguard her finances, to keep her secure, she'd been taken in once again, this time by a silver-tongued scam artist without a conscience.