Final Deposit

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Lindsey nodded. She missed her mom so much. And if she were here, she’d know what do to.

“I love you, pumpkin.”

She blinked back a tear. “I love you, too, Daddy.”

Two minutes later she was downstairs in the lobby, punching Kyle’s number into her phone.

He answered on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Kyle, it’s me. Lindsey,” she said, crossing the lobby.

“I wasn’t sure you were going to call.”

“I didn’t have a choice.” She stopped just before the automated doors that led outside, hoping her last statement didn’t make it sound as if she didn’t want to see him. Because she did. Very much.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just that my father refuses to discuss the issue and denies there is anything wrong.”

He let out a low whistle. “I’m assuming that means he didn’t give you permission to search his house?”

“He didn’t, but that doesn’t matter.” Lindsey bit her lip, already feeling guilty about what she’d decided to do. “I have unlimited power of attorney. He signed all the papers after he was diagnosed with prostate cancer, in case something happened.” A young girl stepped through the doors, bringing with her a blast of Texas summer. Lindsey took a step back into the lobby. “You have to know that I’d never take advantage of his trust. But I think it’s appropriate for me to use my power of attorney in these circumstances.”

“I think you’re right.”

She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. One day her father would thank her. They just had to figure out what was going on first.

“Can you meet me back at my father’s house?” she asked. “I’ll pick up lunch to sweeten the deal.”

“I’ll be there in half an hour. Is that soon enough?”

“Yeah.” She hadn’t expected the wave of relief that followed. At least she wasn’t in this alone. “I owe you big-time for this.”

Thank you, Lord, for Kyle Walker.

She hung up and walked over to the ATM on the other side of the automatic doors to withdraw money for lunch. Rummaging through her purse, she remembered she’d left all her usual cards in her dresser drawer yesterday so she wouldn’t have to worry about them at the wedding. She sighed, and pulled a debit card for her emergencies-only account from a zippered pocket.

Sliding the card into the slot, she wondered what she and Kyle might find. She noticed her hand was shaking and rested it against the side of the machine, waiting for the bank to process her request. The ATM spit the card back at her.

Card denied. Insufficient funds.

Insufficient funds? Lindsey smacked the machine with the palm of her hand and shoved in the card again. She didn’t have time for this.

Thirty seconds later…denied again.

She glanced around the lobby. A dozen people milled about the room and not one of them seemed to notice that she suddenly couldn’t breathe. Or that the room was beginning to spin.

This simply couldn’t be happening. There should be at least two thousand dollars in her account.

Or rather, their account. She shared it with her father.

Kyle jumped off Mr. Taylor’s front porch as Lindsey parked the car. The moment she stepped out, he knew she’d been crying.

He hurried toward her. “What happened? Your father, is he—”

“He’s fine. As far as the hospital is concerned, anyway.”

“What’s wrong then?” he asked.

“I don’t know what’s going on.”

She dug into her purse and yanked out the keys to the front door, forcing him to keep up with her as she marched up the walk. Her chin jutted forward, lips pressed into a thin line. It seemed that frustration had morphed into pure anger.

“Lindsey? What’s going on?”

“My father and I have a joint savings account. He set it up a couple years ago. Emergency money, he called it. If either of us got in a bind, we could borrow from it.” She stomped up the porch stairs and stopped briefly to face him. “I’ve used it from time to time, always repaying it quickly. I don’t think my father’s ever used it, because the balance has never dropped below two thousand dollars.”

She shoved the house key into the lock, opened the door and deactivated the alarm. “I needed cash for lunch, so I tried to use the card. It was denied because of ‘insufficient funds.’ And he claims there’s nothing wrong.”

Her purse smacked against the wall as she tromped over the still-wet carpet. She slung it down on the floor, away from the mess. A Siamese cat rubbed up against her leg, but she ignored its obvious ploy for attention. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so angry in my entire life.”

“Hey,” Kyle said, setting his hands on her shoulders. “You’ve got to calm down. We’ll find a way to work this all out.”