Her dad dropped his head. “It's about more than the prize money,” he mumbled.
With a sinking sensation of dread, Connie recognized that guilty, hangdog expression. “Dad, what did you do?”
Her dad's eyes shifted from side to side, as if seeking an escape route. “You know the money we used to transport the plane here from America?” he said reluctantly.
“So that's where you were,” Chase said. He scowled. “I have to sack my private detectives. Apparently they've been chasing wild geese all over Europe.”
He hired private detectives to find me?
Connie brushed away the thought. There were more important things to deal with right now.
“You didn't want to tell me where the money came from, so I assumed you won it gambling,” she said to her dad.
“I did! In… a manner of speaking.” He fidgeted. “I just haven't quite won the bet yet.”
Connie groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Let me guess. You bet that you could win the Rydon Cup.”
“It was a sure thing!” her dad protested. “Hardly a gamble at all! More like a, a loan. And we did need the money to get out of the country right away.”
“Oh?” Chase said, cocking his head to one side with interest.
“He got deported,” Connie said grimly. “My mom was American, so I'm a U.S. citizen, but he isn't. Let's just say that in future, I'm handling all his immigration paperwork. Not to mention our taxes.” She sighed. “Okay, Dad. How much do you owe this time?”
Her dad avoided her eyes. “Well…I didn't really bet money, as such. Sammy wasn't interested in that.”
“Sammy?” Connie sucked in her breath. “Not Sammy Smiles. Dad, tell me you didn't make another deal with him. Not after last time.”
“Sammy Smiles?” Chase said, his eyebrows shooting up. “The shark?”
“How on earth do you know Sammy Smiles?” Connie said, momentarily distracted. She couldn't imagine that Chase, the son of a billionaire, had ever had need of a loan shark.
“We move in some of the same social circles, shall we say.” All the good humor had slid away from Chase's expression, leaving him looking uncharacteristically grim. “He's pretty notorious. Well, that explains why you're lying there with two broken arms, Mr. West.”
“I knew his reputation, but I thought…” Connie's dad trailed off, hanging his head in shame again.
He thought he could talk his way out. He always thinks he can talk his way out.
Connie shook her head in despair. “Dad. What deal did you cut with Sammy Smiles?”
“He offered money. A lot of money. Enough to pay for our move. Tickets, shipping the plane, an apartment, everything. And all I had to do was win the Rydon Cup, and he'd write off the entire debt.” Her dad peered up at her sidelong. “It was a good deal, Connie.”
Cold dread closed around Connie's heart like a fist. “And if you lost?”
Her dad swallowed hard. “Then he got our plane.”
Connie was struck literally speechless. She stared at her dad, overcome by the sheer scale of the betrayal.
“Wait,” Chase said, looking from one to the other. “The plane? Connie's plane? You gambled Connie's airplane?”
“Technically it's half my plane,” Connie's dad said defensively. “And it was a sure thing.”
Chase looked like he would have loved to break Connie's dad's arms himself. He took three quick, agitated paces back and forth, running his hands through his hair as though physically unable to keep still. Connie still couldn't move, frozen in disbelief.
The plane. He gambled my mother's airplane. The only thing we have left of her, and he staked it in a bet.
“Right,” Chase said, swinging round. There was a determined set to his jaw that Connie had never seen before. “I'm going to fix this. Mr. West, I'm going to need to talk to Sammy. I presume you've met him?”