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My Darling Husband(53)

Author:Kimberly Belle

The parking lot in front of me smears, a hazy gray wash of asphalt and skeleton branches and gauzy air. “I don’t have time for guessing games, Ed. Just tell me what she said so I can figure out how I’m going to plug the hole.”

“Basically, it’s a yes but. Yes, Alissa agreed to extend a loan to cover the time it takes for us to cash out your IRA, but there are two strings attached. First, she capped the loan at $350,000. Now I realize your IRA is worth much more than that, and that’s great news on the back end, but as far as extending the money up front, Alissa was pretty adamant. Three-fifty is as much as we’ll be able to get out of her.”

I don’t have to do the math: $350K, plus the cash in the bag on the seat next to me, is a little over half of what I need for the ransom. That leaves one hell of a hole, but it’s an amount that feels a little more feasible. My mind kicks into overdrive, racing through a mental Rolodex of people I know with that kind of cash. Business-owner pals whose fields are cash driven, friends who flaunt wives hung with diamond jewelry and Birkin bags, who blather on about yachts and vacation homes and who have homes with panic rooms and safes stuffed with cash.

Only problem is, why would they give any of that money to me?

And then I replay Ed’s words and realize there’s more. He just said there were two strings, two conditions to the money.

“What’s the other one?”

At Ed’s sigh, my body turns to stone, bracing for what comes next.

“The earliest I could get you the cash is tomorrow morning.”

His message is a gut punch. “Tomorrow morning is unacceptable, Ed. I need this money tonight. I need it now.” I slam my fist against the steering wheel.

“I understand that, but even if we could get through the paperwork today, an amount that large takes time to pull together. I’m up here at the executive offices, which means I don’t have that kind of cash just lying around. I’d have to call down to a local branch, but it’s already past five. I doubt I could even find anybody to pick up the phone.”

He pauses, sitting through a silence I know I’m supposed to fill, but with what? I’ve got nothing.

“I’m sorry, Cam. I know you were counting on this, but truly, my hands are tied. As much as I want to help you out here, and I really do want to help, it’s the best I can do. Come by first thing tomorrow morning, and we’ll get you sorted out.”

I slump in my seat, resting my forehead against the wheel and breathing through a brutal wave of panic. I see a younger Jade, her curls hanging wild like they used to before she started straightening them, grinning above me in bed. A purple-faced Beatrix, waving wrinkly fists and raising hell in her hospital bassinet. Sweet, innocent Bax, sacked out under the Christmas tree atop his Woody blanket. Devils by day, angels at night, Jade is always joking, but the truth is, Bax is an angel when he’s awake, too.

And now—

“Please, Ed. Please, I am begging you.” A sob is stuck in my throat like a brick, so thick it hurts to swallow. “I’ll take any amount you can offer me, at any interest rate. I don’t give a shit what you charge me for it, I just need that money today. This is life or death for me. I know that sounds cryptic, and I can’t tell you anything more, other than that it’s true. If I don’t get this money today, people are going to die.”

Another long pause. More silence waiting to be filled.

“Look, I…” Ed clears his throat. “I feel obligated to ask what this is all about, because honestly? From where I’m sitting? This sounds like something the police should be involved in. Is everything okay, Cam? Is Jade?”

I wipe my eyes, fist the steering wheel, and drive the truck out of the lot to God knows where. Where do I go now? Whom do I ask for money now? I follow the asphalt around the building and to the road, and everything around me goes black around the edges. For a shivery second I think I might pass out, but I shake it off, clenching down on my teeth until my vision turns solid again.

“I know our relationship is mostly professional, but I like you,” Ed says. “I consider you a friend, which is why I’m going to ask you again. Do you need help? Do I need to, I don’t know, send in the cavalry? Because I’ll do it if you need me to. I’ll make that call. All you have to do is say the word.”

No police.

And for God’s sake, no sirens.

“Thanks for trying, Ed. I’ve got to run.” I hang up and pull into traffic.

I drive down an unfamiliar street and try my damnedest not to throw up. $49,000 and some change. That’s all I’ve got to show for ninety full minutes of hustle, and now it’s too late. The banks are closed. Ed packed up his papers and clocked out, and I have less than an hour and a half to scrounge up seven hundred grand from God knows where. What a nightmare.

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