Love Next Door (Lakeside 1)

“That seems . . .”

“Shallow?” I supply.

“Calculated was more the word I was looking for.”

I nod my agreement. “It was calculated. If I’d dated a nice guy who treated me well, then I might have been less inclined to move to Chicago. Around here people tend to settle down early. Half of the girls I went to high school with had promise rings before they were even legally allowed to vote.”

“And you didn’t want to be tied down?”

“Not to this place.”

“And yet you’re back. So what changed?”

“My brother was in a car accident, and my dad needed help running the construction company.” I leave out the part about the DUI, my company going under, my ex-boyfriend moving back home, and my needing to find a new apartment. “What about you? Why are you staying at Bee’s place?”

“Well, it’s technically my place now.” I give him a look, so he continues with a sigh. “I’m in between jobs, and I needed a break from the city.”

I lean back in the chair. “It sounds like there’s a story attached to that.”

“There is, but it doesn’t paint me in the best light, and I don’t want to give you another reason to dislike me.”

“Well, now I really want to know what brings you to the wrong side of the lake.”

Van laughs, but there isn’t any humor in it. “It’s not the wrong side; it’s the best side.” He takes his hat off and runs his hands through the damp strands. “I used to be on the board of directors for a foundation in honor of my mother.”

“She passed when you were very young.” I remember, vaguely, a period of time in which Bee wore all black and talked about her daughter. The summer that followed I didn’t see much of her, but I remember her grandchildren being there and my mom telling me they needed family time.

“She did. It was supposed to be a day surgery, but she had a rare reaction to the anesthesia, and we lost her.”

“I’m so sorry. That must have been so hard. Bee loved her very much.”

“She did, and I think she blamed my dad for her death. I think he blamed himself too.”

“That must have been so difficult for all of you. I can’t imagine losing my mother at such a young age. How old were you?”

“I was pretty young. Eight. Old enough to understand that she was gone and not coming back, but my dad just sort of shut down. All he did was work. Nannies basically raised us, and he bought us whatever we wanted. He lost himself when he lost her. And I started spending the summers with Grammy Bee. So did my brother and sister at first, but we had a nanny that Teagan was particularly close with, and she didn’t like being away from Dad for that long, so she stopped coming, and Bradley stayed home with her.”

“Which left only you to visit Bee.”

“Yup. Anyway, when I was eighteen I asked my dad if we could create a foundation in memory of my mom, and of course he said yes. I sat on the board right from the beginning. It was a way for us to connect. And it was good. But the day I arrived here was the same day I found out there was an audit and several million dollars have gone missing from the foundation.”

“Holy crap! That’s awful. What happened to it? Were they able to recover it?”

“They think I took it.”

“But why would you do that with the foundation you started?”

Van shrugs. “It doesn’t make sense to me, either, but all the bread crumbs lead back to me.”

“But how?” I might only know Van based on our infrequent, often annoyance-based interactions, but I do know that Bee spoke very highly of him. And generally Bee was right about people. I honestly couldn’t conceive of him doing something like that, or telling me about it if he had.

“I have no idea. That’s what we’re trying to find out. And we had this big donation going to this amazing literacy program, and now it’s all on hold. I wanted to replace as much of the missing funds as I could, but my lawyer wants me to wait it out so I don’t look guilty. I hate that this is dragging my mother’s name through the mud. And stalling our projects as a result. All because of someone’s greed.”

It would be horrible to be accused of something I didn’t do with no way to prove I didn’t do it. “Can’t you find out who did this? It can’t be that easy to steal millions, can it?”

“About as easy as it is to frame someone, apparently. I’ve tried to figure out who it was, but whoever did it has been good at not leaving a trail or even a digital fingerprint behind. The real cherry on top of the shit sundae is that I lost my job over this. And honestly, I can’t blame them for wanting to get rid of me. I’d do the same. As it is, my entire family is back in Chicago dealing with the fallout, and I’m here, waiting until we can come up with some evidence to prove it wasn’t me.”