Natural Born Charmer (11 page)

On his way into the house, his thoughts abruptly returned to Marli Moffatt’s death and the eleven-year-old daughter she’d left behind. His half sister. The idea was unreal. He knew what it felt like to be an orphan, and one thing was for damn sure. That poor kid had better be able to look after herself because Jack Patriot wouldn’t do it for her.

Riley Patriot lived in Nashville, Tennessee,
in a white brick house with six white columns, white marble floors, and a gleaming white Mercedes-Benz in the garage. In the living room, a white grand piano sat near a pair of matching white sofas on an all-white carpet. Riley hadn’t been allowed in the living room since she’d squirted a box of grape Juicy Juice there when she was six.

Even though Riley was eleven now, her mother had never forgiven or forgotten—not just the grape Juicy Juice, but a lot of things—and now it was too late. Ten days ago, a whole bunch of people had seen her mom, Marli Moffatt, fall through a broken railing into the Cumberland River from the top deck of the paddle wheeler
Old Glory.
She’d banged her head on something when she hit the water, it was night, and they didn’t find her until it was too late. Ava, Riley’s ten millionth au pair, woke Riley up to break the news.

Now, a week and a half later, Riley was on the run to find her brother.

Although she’d only walked a block from her home, her T-shirt was already sticking to her skin, so she unzipped her puffy pink
jacket. Her lavender corduroys were a size twelve chubbo, but they were still too tight. Her cousin Trinity was a size eight slim, but just Riley’s bones without any skin were bigger than a size eight slim. She switched her heavy backpack to her other arm. Her load would have been a lot lighter if she’d left the scrapbook behind, but she couldn’t do it.

The houses on Riley’s street sat well back from the road, some behind gates, so there weren’t any sidewalks, but there were streetlights, and Riley dodged them as best she could. Not that anybody was going to come looking for her. Her legs started to itch, and she tried to scratch through the corduroy, but that only made the itching worse. By the time she saw Sal’s beat-up red car at the end of the next block, they were on fire.

He’d parked under a streetlight, like a moron, and he was smoking a cigarette in quick, jerky puffs. When he spotted her, he started looking around, like he thought the police might show up at any minute. “Gimme the money,” he said when she got to the car.

Riley didn’t like standing under the light where anybody driving by could see them, but arguing would take longer than giving him the money. Riley hated Sal. He worked on his dad’s landscape crew when he wasn’t in school, which was how Riley knew him, but that wasn’t why she hated him. She hated him because he rubbed himself when he didn’t think anybody was looking, and he spit, and he said nasty stuff. But he was sixteen, and ever since he got his license four months ago, Riley had been paying him to take her places. He was a crappy driver, but until Riley turned sixteen herself, she didn’t have a lot of choices.

She pulled the money out of the front pocket of her green backpack. “A hundred dollars now. I’ll give you the rest after we get to the farm.” She’d watched a lot of old movies, so she knew all about how you were supposed to divide up the money.

He looked like he wanted to grab her backpack, but it wouldn’t have done him any good, because she’d hidden the rest of the money
in her sock. He counted the bills, which she thought was rude because she was standing right in front of him, and it was like calling her a big cheater. Finally, he stuffed the money in his jeans pocket. “If my old man finds out about this, he’s going to beat the shit out of me.”

“He’s not going to find out from me. You’re the only blabbermouth.”

“What did you do about Ava?”

“Peter’s staying over. She won’t notice.” Riley’s au pair had come from Hamburg, Germany, two months ago. Peter was Ava’s boyfriend, and all they did was make out. When Riley’s mom was alive, Ava hadn’t been allowed to have Peter in the house, but with her mom dead, he’d been sleeping over about every night. It would be breakfast before Ava figured out Riley was gone, and maybe not even then, because they didn’t have school tomorrow for end-of-the-year teachers’ conferences. Riley had stuck a Post-it note on her door saying she had an upset stomach and not to wake her up Sal still didn’t get in the car. “I want two-fifty. I forgot about gas.”

She tugged on the car door, but he had it locked. She scratched her legs. “I’ll give you twenty dollars extra.”

“You’re rich. You don’t have to be so cheap.”

“Twenty-five, and that’s all. I mean it, Sal. I don’t want to go that bad.”

A big lie. If she didn’t get to her brother’s farm, she’d lock herself in the garage and turn on her mom’s Benz—she knew how—and sit in the car until she suffocated to death. Nobody could make her come out, not Ava, or her Aunt Gayle, or even her dad—like he’d even care if she died.

Sal must have believed her because he finally unlocked the car doors. She dropped her backpack on the floor of the front seat, then got in and fastened her seat belt. The inside of the car smelled like cigarettes and stale hamburgers. She pulled the directions she’d got
from MapQuest out of the zipper pocket of her backpack. He peeled away from the curb without even looking to see if a car was coming.

“Watch out!”

“Relax. It’s midnight. There’s nobody around.” He had stringy brown hair, and some hairs growing on his chin that he thought made him look cool.

“You’re supposed to go to Interstate Forty,” she said.

“Like I don’t know that.” He tossed his cigarette out the open window. “They’re playing the Moffatt Sisters’ CD on the radio all the time now. I bet you’re going to make about a million bucks.”

All Sal ever wanted to talk about was money or sex stuff, and Riley definitely didn’t want him to talk about sex stuff, so she pretended to study the MapQuest papers, even though she’d already memorized everything.

“You’re so lucky,” Sal went on. “You don’t have to work or anything, and you get all this money.”

“I can’t spend it. It goes in my trust fund.”

“You can spend the money your dad gives you.” He was only driving with one hand, but if she said anything about it, he’d just get mad. “I saw your dad when he was here for the funeral. He even talked to me. He’s a lot nicer than your mom. Seriously. Someday I’m going to have cool clothes like him and ride around in a limo.”

Riley didn’t like it when people talked about her dad, which they always wanted to do, like they thought she’d introduce them or something when she hardly ever saw him. Now that her mom was dead, he planned to transfer Riley to Chatsworth Girls, which was a boarding school where everybody would hate her because she was fat and nobody would want to be her friend except to get near her dad. She went to Kimble now, but it wasn’t a boarding school, and even being in the same classes with her cousin Trinity was better than a sleepover school. She’d begged her dad to let her stay at Kimble and live with Ava in an apartment or something, but he’d said that wouldn’t work out.

Which was why she had to find her brother.

He was really her half-brother, and he was a secret. Only a few people knew Riley and he were related, and even Riley wouldn’t have known that her dad had this other kid a long, long time ago if she hadn’t overheard her mom’s old boyfriend talking to her mom about it. Her mom was one of the Moffatt Sisters, along with Aunt Gayle, Trinity’s mom. They’d been performing together since they were fifteen, but they hadn’t had a hit on the country charts in six years, and their new CD
Everlasting Rainbows
hadn’t been doing too good, which was why they’d gone on the paddle wheeler that night, to do a promotion for a bunch of radio people visiting Nashville for a conference. Now, with all the publicity about her mom drowning, the CD was at the top of the charts. Riley thought her mom would be happy about this, but she wasn’t sure.

Her mom had been thirty-eight when she died, two years older than Aunt Gayle. They were both skinny with blond hair and big boobs, and a couple of weeks before the accident, Riley’s mom had gone to Aunt Gayle’s face doctor and gotten these shots in her lips that made them big and puffy. Riley thought she’d looked like a fish, but her mom had told Riley to keep her stupid opinions to herself. If Riley had known her mom was going to fall off the riverboat and drown, she would never have said anything.

The corner of the scrapbook jabbed her ankle through her backpack. She wished she could take it out and look at the pictures. That always made her feel better. She grabbed the dashboard. “Watch where you’re going, will you? That’s a red light.”

“So what? No cars are coming.”

“If you get in an accident, you’re going to lose your license.”

“I’m not getting in no accident.” He turned up the radio but then turned it down again. “I’ll bet your dad screwed about ten thousand girls.”

“Will you just shut up!” Riley wished she could close her eyes and pretend she was somewhere else, but if she didn’t watch Sal’s driving, he’d probably wreck.

For about the millionth time, she wondered if her brother knew about her. Last year, when she’d found out about him, it had been the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her. She’d started her secret scrapbook right away, pasting in articles off the Internet, plus pictures of him she found in magazines and newspapers. He always looked happy in his pictures, like he never thought nasty things about people, and like he could appreciate everybody, even if they weren’t beautiful or skinny or eleven years old.

Last winter, she’d sent him a letter at Chicago Stars headquarters. She never heard back, but she knew people like her dad and her brother got so much mail they didn’t read it themselves. When the Stars had come to Nashville to play the Titans, she’d made up this plan to meet him. She was going to sneak away and find a taxi to drive her to the stadium. Once she got there, she’d figure out which door the players came out of and wait for him. She imagined calling his name and how he’d look over at her, and she’d say, “Hi, I’m Riley. I’m your sister.” And his whole face would be happy, and once he got to know her, he’d tell her to come live with him or even just stay with him on school vacations so she wouldn’t have to stay with Aunt Gayle and Trinity like now.

But instead of going to the Titans football game, she’d gotten strep throat and had to spend a whole week in bed. Since then, she’d called Stars headquarters a bunch of times, but no matter what she told the operator, they’d never give her his phone number.

They reached the outside of Nashville, and Sal turned up the radio so loud Riley’s seat vibrated. She liked loud music, too, but not tonight when she was so nervous. She’d found out about her brother’s farm the day after the funeral when she’d heard her dad talking to somebody about it on the phone. When she’d looked up the town he’d mentioned and seen it was in East Tennessee, she was so excited she got dizzy. But her dad didn’t say exactly where the farm was, only that it was near Garrison, and since she couldn’t ask him, she used her detective skills.

She knew people bought houses and farms from real estate salesmen because that’s what her mother’s old boyfriend had been, so she’d looked up all the real estate companies around Garrison on the Internet. Then she’d started calling them and saying she was fourteen and doing this report about people who had to sell their farms.

Most of the real estate people were really nice and told her all kinds of history about some of the farms, but since they were all still for sale, she knew they weren’t her brother’s. Two days ago, though, she reached a lady who was this secretary, and she told Riley about the Callaway farm and how a famous athlete had just bought it, but she wasn’t at liberty to say who. The lady told her where the farm was, but when Riley asked if the famous athlete was there now, she started getting suspicious and said she had to go. Riley took that to mean he was. At least she hoped so. Because if he wasn’t, she didn’t know what she’d do.

Sal wasn’t driving too bad for once, maybe because the interstate was pretty straight. He jabbed his thumb toward her backpack and yelled over the music. “You got anything to eat?”

She didn’t want to share her snacks, but she didn’t want him to stop, either. He’d only make her pay, plus the trip would be longer, so she dug in her backpack and handed him some Cheese Nips. “What did you tell your dad?”

He ripped the package open with his teeth. “He thinks I’m spending the night at Joey’s house.”

Riley had only met Joey once, but she thought he was nicer than Sal. She told Sal the exit number where he had to get off, even though it would be a long time before they got there. But she was afraid if she fell asleep he’d drive right past it because the more she looked at the white lines on the road, the harder it was to keep her eyes open….

The next thing she knew, she was jolted awake as the car skidded and started to spin. Her shoulder banged against the door, and her seat belt grabbed her chest. On the radio 50 Cent was yelling, and this billboard was coming right at them. She screamed over the mu
sic, and all she could think of was that now she’d never see her brother or own a puppy farm when she grew up.

Right before they hit the billboard, Sal jerked the steering wheel, and the car lurched to a stop. She saw his face in the dashboard light. His lips were open and his eyes big and scared. She didn’t want to die, no matter what she’d thought about her mom’s Benz and the garage.

Outside, quiet settled around the car. Inside, 50 Cent was rapping, but Riley was making these crying sounds, and Sal was sort of gulping to breathe. The interstate ramp was behind them, and the road was dark except for one big light shining down on a billboard for Captain G’s Market.
BAIT. BEER. POP. SUBS
. As much as she wanted to find her brother, she wished she was home in bed. The clock on the dashboard said 2:05.

“Stop acting like a baby!” Sal burst out. “Just read the stupid directions.”

He turned the car around right in the middle of the dark country road, so she knew they’d spun all the way in the opposite direction. Her armpits were sweaty, and her hair was damp against her scalp. Her hands shook as she smoothed out the MapQuest directions. He turned the radio off without her asking, and she read what they had to do, ending with going 5.9 miles on Smoky Hollow Road, then turn right on Callaway Road for 1.3 miles, which was where the farm was supposed to be.