Page 97 of I'll Carry You

“I came to see my grandmother for Christmas.” Checking back over his shoulder toward the kitchen, he lowered his voice a bit. “And, before I say anything else, I just want you to know that I have no intention of bothering Jen while I’m here. As it so happens, what I was hoping to speak to you about is something else entirely.”

Jason pulled out a file folder where he’d placed the quarterly report, as well as screenshots he’d taken from the software. “I went into Cavanaugh Metals last night and I stumbled across a problem. Well . . . take a look.” He handed the folder to Bob.

Bob slipped a pair of glasses out from the top pocket of his shirt under his sweater. Without a word, he scanned the documents. Jason cleared his throat. “The printouts”—he left his seat and squatted beside Bob—“those are directly from the accounting software we use. There’s a system in place that logs each user any time a change is made.”

Bob flipped through the papers silently. At last, he took a sharp breath in through his nose and closed the file. “You realize I can’t be silent about this sort of thing.”

Jason nodded. “That’s why I came to you. I figured you might give me guidance as to what the next steps are.”

“Someone is going to jail.” Bob set the file on his lap. “I can contact my boss about it later tonight if you’d like. And more than likely, once this sort of thing comes out, shareholders will sell en masse.” He looked directly at Jason. “Don’t think about dumping anything beforehand, by the way. You don’t need that sort of trouble.”

“I know.” Jason had already thought of that.

Bob lifted the file. “Mind if I take this with me? So I can go over it in more detail?”

“I made multiple copies.” Some of the tension in Jason’s shoulders dissipated. The matter was out of his hands now. “And what do you think the chances are of having to declare bankruptcy?”

“They’re high.” Bob’s lips pressed to a tight line. “But chances are more will come out about how long this has been going on. I know your grandfather had relinquished control of the company a while ago, but things like this rarely happen overnight.”

Jason frowned. “Are you saying my grandfather knew about it?”

Bob shook his head. “I doubt it. His sense of morality might not align with my own, but I don’t think he was a criminal.” He cleared his throat. “Speaking of which, I should probably tell you something I told Jen. About how I met your grandfather.”

He set the file on the small end table beside the armchair and began telling Jason of his trip to Chicago to find Kevin years before. Jason sat back on the sofa, listening without interruption. His grandfather had known about Colby?

Why hadn’t his grandfather just said something? Or made it more clear in his will what he wanted if he knew the truth?

Then again, he and his grandfather had only sparred more and more as time went on. Would Jason have tried to put a stop to the inheritance question if he’d known about his grandfather’s idea beforehand?

His grandfather would have thought so.

When at last Bob finished, he said, “I don’t know what your true intentions with Jen are, but I will say that I’ve seen the light in her eyes dim since this whole thing with you. This has taken a toll on her in a way that’s been hard for Betty and me to see. We didn’t know how much she was struggling—and I don’t mean financially—but in feeling alone.” Bob cleared his throat. “Betty is sensitive to it because she was left in a similar position years ago. When I met her, she had two small boys and didn’t think she’d ever marry again.”

No wonder Dan and Warren looked nothing like him.They were his stepsons.

“I love Dan and Warren as though they were my own kids, you know.” Bob held Jason’s gaze. “And someone loving Jen is important to us. Of course, it is. But she’s not a one-person package. Whoever loves her needs to love Colby just as much, you understand? Not put Jen in a place where she feels like she can’t trust.”

He'd liked Jen’s father before this, and the parallels made the hair on his arms rise. “I understand.” Not that Jen would ever want to speak to him again. He glanced away from the intensity of Bob’s gaze. “I didn’t know much about any of this when I first came to Brandywood. And I was angry with my grandfather’s decision. Angry with Kevin for what he’d done. But now, with Jen, I truly believe she and Colby deserve everything my grandfather left Colby. And I may have started out unsure what to make of her, but she spun my world upside down. I love your daughter. And if leaving her alone is the best for her, then that’s what I’ll do.”

Bob searched his face, then nodded a few times. He stood, holding the file. “I’ll be in touch about this.”

Bob called out another warm wish for Mildred, then left. Jason closed the door behind him.

Time to move forward.

ChapterThirty-Two

“Why haven’tyou gotten yourself ready to go to the flotilla?” Lindsay asked, sitting beside Jen in her parents’ living room. The room appeared as though a tornado of toys had whirled through it—despite Jen’s efforts to clean it up the past few days.

Jen glanced over at the light snowfall, still coming down. “You don’t think they’ll cancel?” The snow was supposed to be ending sometime soon, but the flotilla was scheduled to launch just past sundown when the boats in the lake could all light up with the Christmas lights their owners had used to decorate them. In the past day, the television producer had called Jen about ten times.

The producer hadn’t been happy to hear that Jason wouldn’t be there with Jen. The weather must be making her miserable. She’d promised to send word if there was a cancellation by noon and hadn’t. The weather had worsened since then, though.

“Not a chance you can get out of it that easily.” Lindsay scooted closer to the fire. “You would have heard by now if they were, but my dad said they were setting up propane heaters and making a few more firepits. My bet is that the food trucks will run out of hot chocolate and cider.”

Colby came racing by then, one of Warren’s kids following quickly behind. The two boys weaved their way through the messy living room, then started upstairs, yelling as they went. “Boys are so loud.” Jen shook her head with a grimace.

“Girls are just as loud, believe me.” Lindsay smirked. “Especially when they get to screaming. Then it’s just a bunch of shrill shrieks that make you feel like you’ve lost part of your hearing.”

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