Cut & Run (A Rachel Scott Adventure)

Chapter 16





Chris O’Malley looked out the living room’s front window and watched as the visitors backed down the driveway. Rachel and Red had made their exit as soon as Matt and his FBI visitors went to talk in private. Now they were gone as well. Closing his eyes in frustration for an instant, Chris went in search of his wife and found her in the kitchen, her back to him as she poured a martini.

“Melinda! What the hell was that all about?”

Melinda startled at his voice, clearly not expecting him. She dropped her martini glass on the kitchen’s marble tile floor. An olive rolled under the refrigerator, and the smell of vermouth assaulted Chris’s nose.

“You scared me!” Melinda grabbed the broom and started sweeping up the bits of broken glass. “What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me? Why were you running your big mouth about the Meaux family? You know that company business is confidential. I told you to refrain from speaking about it to any investigators. You leave that to me!”

Chris watched as his wife used a wet paper towel to pick up the tiny fragments of the shattered martini glass the broom didn’t catch.

“I was just trying to help. Your poor brother is brain damaged, his wife and kids may be dead, and you don’t want me to say anything that may be helpful in finding them?” She threw the paper towel in the trash and then put her hands on her hips. Her normally well-coiffed blond hair was messy, and her lipstick had faded.

“You know what I mean, Melinda. This isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation. Leave the business end of it to me. I don’t want you to talk about our clients. Period.” Chris threw his hands up. “Just keep drinking your martinis and keep your mouth shut about everything else.”

“That’s the problem, Chris. I’ve been keeping my mouth shut for too long. I’m tired of living in this damn house out in the middle of nowhere. You promised me we would only be here for a few years. Where are our mansion and our fancy cars? That’s one thing I could never understand. Matt has given you plenty of opportunities to invest in stocks and real estate with him, and you never take him up on his offer. He’s made millions on his investments. Millions. And we have nothing because you’re too afraid to take a risk.” Melinda stomped her foot like a spoiled child, her four-inch heels making a clacking sound on the marble tiled floor. “Not only are you afraid, but you let Matt walk all over you. You let him have the mansion when your father died. You let him take control of the business. You are nothing but a puppet on a string. It’s pathetic. I obviously married the wrong brother!”

“Why do you have to make this all about you? My brother has lost everything and you want to talk about why you don’t have all the fancy things you think you’re entitled to? The faster I make money, the faster you spend it. It wouldn’t have mattered whether or not I made those investments, we’d still have nothing to show for it! Because of your reckless spending, we’re hundreds of thousands in debt!” Chris moved closer to Melinda and grabbed her chin with his right hand. “If you married me to get back at Matt, then that was your choice. And if you don’t like things the way they are, then there’s the door.”

Melinda stared at him so coldly that Chris felt himself shudder. He felt close to hating her. When had it all gone wrong? Lately, she had seemed so detached. The more distant they became, the more Melinda spent. Or had she always been like this and he’d just never noticed? Her body was incredible enough to distract him from just about anything, that was for sure. Even now, he found himself staring at her curves beneath the tight pencil skirt, the swell of her breasts stretching the fabric of her shirt, and he reached out to caress her.

“I’m not going anywhere, Chris. If you think that, you’ve got another thing coming.” Melinda pushed Chris’s hand away just as he heard a thump. He turned quickly and was startled to see Matt right behind them. He was leaning on the breakfast bar, his hand resting on the Bible he’d found in Chris’s office, a hint of worry on his face.

“I think I remember something.”





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