“When they got back from the trip,” Raymond is saying, “they hired a lab and developed it properly. Four years later they launched it. At least, Corey launched it.”
“Only Corey? Why not Brent?”
Raymond’s face kind of closes up. “Brent bowed out after three years,” he says shortly.
“Three years? What do you mean, before it launched? So he didn’t make any money?”
“Not to speak of. He pretty much just signed away his rights.”
“But why on earth would he do that?” I demand in horror. “He must have known it had huge potential.”
“I guess Corey told him—” Raymond breaks off, then says with sudden heat, “It’s in the past. It’s between the two of them.”
“Corey told him what?” I narrow my eyes. “What, Raymond?”
“What?” echoes Suze, and Raymond makes an angry, huffing sound.
“Corey had taken over the business side. Maybe he gave Brent the wrong impression. Told him the investors weren’t coming forward, told him it wasn’t developing commercially, told him it was going to be expensive to take it to the next level. So Brent sold out for…well. Pretty much nothing.”
I stare at Raymond in utter dismay.
“Corey conned Brent? He should go to prison!”
Into my head flashes an image of Corey’s Las Vegas palace, followed by Brent’s trailer. It’s so unfair. I can’t bear it.
“Corey didn’t break any law as far as I know,” Raymond replies stolidly. “He was right in some of what he said—it wasn’t a sure thing. It did need investment. Brent should have looked into it. Shoulda been smarter.”
“You know Brent’s been living in a trailer?” I say accusingly. “You know he’s been evicted from a trailer?”
“If Brent was fool enough to fall for Corey’s patter, that’s his problem,” returns Raymond aggressively. “I believe he attempted legal action, but the facts didn’t stack up strongly enough. Corey’s word against Brent’s, see.”
“But that’s so wrong! Brent helped invent it! It’s made millions!”
“Whatever.” Raymond’s face closes up even further, and I feel a surge of contempt for him.
“You just don’t want to know, do you?” I say scathingly. “No wonder you hide yourself away from the world.”
“If Brent’s so talented,” puts in Suze, “why didn’t he make something of himself anyway?”
“Brent was never the strongest character,” says Raymond. “I think it ate him up, seeing Corey succeed. He drank, married too many times—that’ll burn through your money.”
“No wonder it ate him up!” I almost yell. “It would eat anyone up! So, you think this is OK, do you? One of your friends conned the other and you don’t want to do anything about it?”
“I don’t get involved,” says Raymond, his face expressionless. “We lost touch.”
“But you still take the money,” I say pointedly.
“So does your dad,” returns Raymond, equally pointedly. “He still gets his dividend, as far as I know.”
My racing thoughts are brought up short. My dad. The money. The dividend. Why did he never tell us about this? He told us everything else about that holiday, over and over. Why did he leave out the best bit?
I’m sure Mum doesn’t know any of this. She would have said. Which means…He’s been keeping it secret, all these years?
I feel a bit hot. My dad is the most open, straightforward person in the world. Why would he keep a massive great secret like this?
“Bex, didn’t you know anything about it?” says Suze in a low voice.
“Nothing.”
“Why would your dad hide something like that?”
“I have no idea. It’s weird.”
“Is your dad secretly a billionaire?” Her eyes widen.
“No! No. He can’t be!”
“I don’t think Corey sends your dad much,” says Raymond, who’s blatantly listening in. “It’s more of a token between friends. A few thousand dollars, maybe.”
A few thousand dollars…every year…And, like a flash, it hits me. The BB. Dad’s Big Bonus.
He’s had these bonuses my whole life. He’s always told us they come from consultancy work and has taken us out for treats, and we’ve all raised a glass to him. Do the big bonuses come…from Corey?
I look at Suze, and I can see she’s had the same idea.
“The BB,” she says.
One year Suze was staying with us when Dad got it, and he bought her a Lulu Guinness bag, even though she kept saying, “Mr. Bloomwood, you mustn’t!”
“The BB.” I nod. “I think that’s it. It’s not consultancy. It’s this spring.”
My head is spinning. I need to talk this out. My dad has a whole secret thing going on. Why didn’t he tell us?
“Does Corey know Brent was evicted?” Suze is asking Raymond.
There’s a pause. Raymond shifts around a little in his chair and stares out the window. “I believe your dad told him. I believe your dad was appealing to Corey for a financial settlement for Brent.”
“So that’s what he’s been trying to ‘put right.’ ” I glance at Suze. Now it’s all starting to make sense. “And what did Corey say?”
“I believe Corey refused.”
“But you didn’t get involved?”
Raymond gazes steadily back at me. “Not my life.”
I can’t believe how much I loathe this man. He’s just bowed out. Looked the other way. It’s all right for him, living off his lucky investment, with his pottery and his ranch and his messy house. What about Brent? Brent who probably doesn’t even have a house?
Tears have started in my eyes. I feel so proud of my dad, standing up for his old friend, trying to right this wrong.
“Doesn’t Corey feel guilty?” persists Suze. “Weren’t you all supposed to be friends?”
“Well. It’s more complicated than that with Brent and Corey.” Raymond steeples his fingers. “It all goes back, you see.”
“To what?”
“Well, I guess you could say it goes back to Rebecca.”
Both Suze and I inhale sharply. I feel my skin prickling all over. Rebecca.
“Who…what…” My voice isn’t working properly.
“We need to know who Rebecca is,” chimes in Suze firmly. “We need to know what this is all about. Start from the beginning and don’t leave out a single detail.”
She sounds just a teensy bit bossy, and I see irritation sweep over Raymond’s face.
“I’m not starting anywhere,” he lashes back. “I’m tired of rehashing the past. If you want to know about Rebecca, ask your dad.”
“But you have to tell us!” protests Suze.
“I don’t have to do anything. I’ve told you enough. Interview over.” He gets up, and before I know what’s happening, he’s grabbed Twice out of my hands. “Now, put down my piece,” he says, glowering at Suze. “And leave my property before I call the police.”
He looks quite menacing, and I gulp. Actually, it might be time to go. But as I get up from the sofa, I can’t help shooting him my most scornful look.
“Well, thanks for filling us in on the story. I’m glad you can sleep at night.”
“You’re welcome. Goodbye.” He jerks a thumb at the door. “Hey, Maria!” he adds in a yell.
“Wait! One more thing. Do you have any idea where my dad might be?”
There’s silence, and I can see in Raymond’s eyes the thoughts passing through his mind.
“You tried Rebecca?” he says at last—and again I feel a weird little zing at hearing my own name.
“No! Don’t you understand? We don’t know anything about Rebecca. Not her surname or where she lives—”
“Rebecca Miades,” he cuts me off shortly. “Lives in Sedona, about two hundred and fifty miles north of here. Your dad was talking about contacting her. She was there that night, see? She saw how the idea was born.”