“Yep. No one asked for more.” Kid placed a book on the desk. “Here’s the draft book.”
“You did a great job, Kid.”
“Hell, yeah, I did.” Kid plopped into a chair and propped his boots on the desk. “And what the hell am I doing running around busting my ass on these leases while you’re tearing up the agreement with Jessie?”
Cadde leaned back. “Chance told you?”
“Yes, and I can’t believe you jeopardized this whole project.”
“I didn’t want to start our marriage with that agreement hanging over our heads. I had to trust Jessie to make the right decision for herself and for Shilah.”
“What?”
“It’s called trust, Kid.”
“Who the hell are you?” Kid jumped to his feet. “Where’s Cadde, my brother whose focus is the oil business and only the oil business?”
Cadde leaned forward. “I’ve changed. My priorities are split between family and business.”
“Oh, God, I need a drink. I can’t take this on a sober stomach.”
Cadde picked up his pen. “I’m sure you can find someone to keep you company.”
“It used to be my brothers, but now all they talk about is marriage, babies and trust. God, I need a stiff one.”
“Have fun. You’ve earned it.”
“You bet I have and this night is not going to be about trust. It’s going to be about having one helluva good time.”
“I never thought otherwise.”
With his hand on the door, Kid paused and turned back. “I’ve been eating crawfish with beer three times a day in Louisiana so I might be a little punch-drunk already. But I’m happy you and Jessie have found some sort of balance.”
“Thanks, Kid.”
Cadde shook his head, wondering if Kid would ever grow up. And if there was a woman alive who could put up with him on a daily basis.
Smiling, he reached for the draft book and unlocked the bottom drawer on his desk. Placing it inside, he spotted a brown folder at the back. He’d never noticed that before and he pulled it out. A pink string held it together.
What was this?
Slowly, he undid the bowknot and opened the folder. An eight-by-ten glossy photo of a woman in a string bikini jumped out at him. Her long dark hair flowed over her shoulder and her olive complexion was smooth and silky. Jessie. She looked like Jessie but Cadde knew it wasn’t. Jessie was much more beautiful.
More photos followed of Roscoe and the woman, the woman and Roscoe with a baby and more of just the woman and a baby. Without a doubt, he knew this was Jessie’s mother. As he turned over the last photo, he found a sticky note. On it was written: Cadde, use this information as you see fit. Roscoe.
What the hell?
Then he began to read what looked like a letter to Jessie.
You’ve asked me so many times about your mother and I couldn’t tell you the truth. I just couldn’t, but I couldn’t die with that lie on my conscience.
I met your mother in Vegas. Her name is Angela Martinez. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. She was also a stripper. After spending a week with her, I offered her fifty thousand dollars if she would give me a child. I was forty-seven years old and she was twenty-one, but that didn’t matter. I wanted a child. She took the money and we came back to Texas. Her family was poor and she was stripping to pay the rent. I knew the money would be a temptation she couldn’t resist.
She became pregnant almost immediately. The day you were born was the happiest day of my life. I believe Angela was happy, too. But then her family started calling. They needed money. To keep Angela with us, I sent them twenty thousand more dollars. That didn’t last long. They were calling again. I told Angela she had to choose—us or her no good family. She left the next day with you. The moment I found out I was on a plane to Vegas to get you. She would not take you from me.
But she tried once again to steal you when you were eighteen months old. Aunt Helen kept you while Al and I worked. Angela somehow snatched you while you slept and Helen was in another room. I once again flew to Vegas and this time I told Angela if she ever came back to Texas I would kill her and she knew I meant it.
I never heard from her again and that’s just as well. You’re my kid and no way on God’s green earth was she taking you from me. When Crissy was kidnapped, I feared it was Angela trying to get back at me. But the police checked and Crissy wasn’t with Angela. The police said she’d married. I guess she moved on without us.
Every day of your life I feared Angela was going to take you from me. The guards had a lot to do with Crissy but a lot to do with Angela, too. No way was I letting her have any contact with you. She wasn’t taking the one thing I treasured most on this earth.