The Forgotten One (The Heirs #2)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Max had left Arizona shortly after his twenty-first birthday. Would have left sooner had he not been on probation for his adolescent outbursts of illegal behavior.

He never thought he’d have a reason to return, yet here he was.

The flight lasted less than an hour, not enough time, according to Sarah.

Max could count on five fingers the number of times he’d flown in his life. A round trip to Vegas twice and a one-way ticket to Colorado, where he’d picked up a motorcycle and driven it back to California.

He didn’t have a passport, TSA precheck, or any of the things Sarah kept telling him about on the flight over.

According to Sarah, Max obtaining a passport was priority number one. “My research into Aaron Stone’s life said not only did he leave the three of you hotels on six continents, but there are private houses scattered around the world as well.”

“Why own more than one house?” Max asked.

“To avoid staying in hotels.”

“He owned the hotels.”

“Yeah, but that’s work. He probably needed to get away from that once in a while.”

“Or entertain one of his many mistresses,” Max mused, wondering if his mother had spent any time in a Stone hotel or home.

“That, too.”

A driver from the Morrison picked them up at the small airport they’d landed in just outside of Phoenix.

Even with makeup and dark glasses, Sarah’s bruising was in-your-face noticeable, and more than one eyebrow raised when they checked into the hotel.

Her running joke to anyone who made a comment was “You should see the other guy.”

The bright red-and-purple color was twisting into a greenish brown, and the swelling was much better than when he’d last seen her.

Seeing the damage felt a little less personal. The guilt over what he couldn’t have stopped from happening had faded.

Any concern Max had about sharing a room with Sarah, and what assumption that would imply, was squelched when they were directed to a two-bedroom suite.

While the bellhop showed Max around, Sarah set up a laptop on a small dining table.

“The minibar, room service, and anything you might need that we can provide is included with your stay.”

“Even the twenty-dollar peanuts?” Sarah called out from where she sat.

The bellhop laughed. “And the ten-dollar beer.”

“Sweet.” Sarah wasted no time in opening said nuts.

“The Morrisons themselves asked that we do our best to meet your every need.”

Max wasn’t sure what made him a VIP. It wasn’t like his mother was dating a Morrison.

“We do need to rent a car while we’re here. Is there a place you’d recommend nearby?” Max asked.

“Our driver can take you anywhere you want to go.”

Max shook his head. “I’d rather drive myself.”

The bellhop nodded. “Someone will call from the front desk when a car is ready. Shouldn’t be more than a half an hour. Do you have a preference?”

“In what?”

“Type of car?”

Max was about to say “Something that runs” when Sarah answered for them.

“Nothing flashy since we don’t want the media learning we’re here. But make sure it has a big enough engine to outpace a news van.”

“Something between a Prius and a Tesla ... got it.”

Max walked the employee to the door and pulled out his wallet to tip the guy.

Max flipped through the bills and removed a twenty. What the hell, it wasn’t like he was being asked to pay for his hotel experience, but that didn’t mean the little guy was compensated.

The bellhop pocketed the money. “Thank you very much. And the name is Eddie. You need anything, ask for me.”

“Thanks, Eddie.” It felt great to be the one that was able to tip big and add some monetary joy to someone’s life.

Sarah popped a nut into her mouth. “Why do room service snacks taste so much better in a hotel?”

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never had them.”

Sarah shook the can she was picking from. “Here.”

Max took the can, dug inside. “What are you doing there?”

Sarah had her computer open, with more than one window layered on top of another. “Mapping out where we need to go.”

The nuts did taste pretty good.

“I say we start with the people we know aren’t going to call any media, or wouldn’t think to, first.”

“Miss Abigale’s.” The wine-filled night had revealed the story of Chase, Alex, and Piper finding the woman who used to watch Max as a child. The woman he’d been abandoned to when his mother split. According to his siblings, Miss Abigale was older and wasn’t in a position to take Max on herself. Apparently, she’d been instrumental in helping the Stones put the pieces of the puzzle of Max’s life together and, ultimately, find him.

And she’d been his mother’s landlord.

Sarah looked up, pushed her hand into the can of nuts. “Yeah. Are you up for that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. It’s the only home you had with your mom.”

Max felt a familiar steel pull up around his emotions. “It’s just a house.”

Sarah stared at him for several seconds, then turned away and chewed on another nut.

“Miss Abigale’s first. Then Freedman Galleries.”

“I’m not sure what they can add. Chase said Freedman wasn’t very helpful when he was looking for me.” Freedman Galleries was an art dealer that Max’s mother worked with around the time he was born.

“There may have been something Chase and Alex missed.”

Max shrugged. “Can’t hurt.”

Sarah turned back to her computer and started typing. “We need to find the social services offices.”

“No need to look that up. I know where they are.”

“Oh . . . right. Of course.”

The phone in the room rang, interrupting them.

Max answered. “Hello.”

“Max?”

The voice wasn’t familiar, and he was wary of saying yes. “Who’s asking?”

“Sorry. It’s Jack.”

“Jack who?”

“Morrison.”

Max relaxed, leaned against the desk.

Sarah placed a hand on his thigh. “Who is it?” she whispered.

“Hello, Jack. Chase said you might call.” Max covered the receiver, whispered “Morrison” to Sarah, and went back to the call.

“I’d be remiss if I didn’t. I hope everything is going smoothly there.” Jack’s Texan accent was exactly how it had been described.

“Everyone is bending over backwards.”

“Good. Good. Listen, I know we haven’t formally met yet but felt this was as good a time as any to reach out and offer any help I can give you in finding your mother.”

“I’m not sure there is anything you can do.” Not that Max would ask.

“I can see why you think that. However, I’m the one that hired the private investigator that helped find you for Chase and Alex.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, sorry ’bout invading your privacy and all. But I think it all worked out in the end.”

Max had to agree. “I suppose I should thank you.”

“Don’t waste your breath on that,” Jack said. “If you get stuck or have a question my guy might be able to answer, give me a holler.”

Sarah stared up at Max, obviously listening to what she could hear.

“I’ll do that.”

“Fair enough. I’ll leave you to get to it. We’re looking forward to meeting you in person. I’m guessing sometime during the holidays or when your niece is born.”

For a moment, Max didn’t connect those dots. “My niece?”

“Chase and Piper’s baby?”

Max closed his eyes. “Right. My niece. Thanks for the call, and for everything here at your hotel.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Max stared at the phone when the call ended.

“What did he say?” Sarah asked.

“He offered his help. Wanted to make sure we had what we needed.”

“Have you ever talked to him before?”

“No.” Max stared at the floor.

“It’s strange for you ... isn’t it?”

He looked at Sarah. “What is?”

“People stepping up without wanting anything in return.”

Sarah nailed exactly the thoughts Max was having a hard time putting into words. “People always have an ulterior motive.”

Sarah frowned. “I think you’re wrong there.”

Max pushed away from the desk. “I hope you’re right.”

Sarah had seen her share of emotional walls before ... but Max held the patent and permits on his.

On the plane, their conversation flowed.

A discussion that surrounded travel or lack thereof in each other’s lives.

The insane fact that they were in a private jet, something neither of them expected to experience in their lifetime, took up a good half an hour of their flight.

The closer they came to landing, however, the less Max had to say.

Sarah wasn’t sure if it was Arizona as a whole or that they were actively searching for his birth mother that shut Max off.

But he was closed up tight.

If Sarah was being honest with herself, she felt a sense of loss.

Max hadn’t greeted her with a kiss or even a hug. They sat across from each other on the flight and had enough room in the back seat of the car that picked them up from the airport that they weren’t sitting on top of each other. And now, as they drove through the middle of Phoenix, Max closed up even more.

They turned down the street where Miss Abigale lived, and they both scouted the mailboxes for the house number.

“It’s 1536,” Sarah told him. “It will be on the left side of the street.”

“There’s 1530,” Max pointed out.

He slowed the car in front of the overgrown property and then put it in park.

Sarah watched as Max stared at the white wood-clad home with a roof that likely leaked when it rained and a fence that wouldn’t keep anything in or out.

In the driveway, an old Buick sedan with chipped paint and a cracked windshield said the owner either didn’t drive it enough to care about its condition or didn’t have the means or ability to do anything about it.

From what Sarah had been told about the owner of the car, she assumed it was a little of both.

“Does anything look familiar?” Sarah asked, just above a whisper.

Max shook his head.

“She knows we’re coming, right?”

“Piper called her this morning.”

His words felt short and cold.

Sarah fell into the vibe he was giving off.

Max reached for the door, and Sarah followed.

They approached the house slowly. At first glance, the overgrown side yard looked to be nothing but weeds and neglect. Looking closer, an abandoned second drive seemed to go beyond the main house to a back house ... which would be the place Max had once lived.

If Max noticed, he didn’t let on.

Through a small wooden gate, they walked up the broken steps.

Sarah noticed the curtains move, and before they could knock, the door swung open.

“Oh, sweet Jesus. I can’t believe my eyes.”

The woman Sarah had to assume was Miss Abigale pushed through the screen door and stepped out onto the porch, leaving the screen to clap back into place with a bang.

With more-salt-than-pepper hair, Miss Abigale wore a soft blue dress that hid her robust body and fell long past her knees. A white knit sweater covered her shoulders, and a pair of broken-down slippers adorned her feet.

The woman had to at least be in her eighties, but her smile made her look ten years younger.

“Maxie . . . is that you?”

Sarah held back her smile with the nickname Miss Abigale offered.

“Hello, Miss Abigale,” Max finally said.

And then, whether he liked it or not, Miss Abigale threw her arms around him in a hug to end all hugs.

Sarah could swear the woman was saying her own little prayers as the hug went on and on.

“Oh, child. I can’t believe you’re here.” She pulled back, placed her plump fingers on his arms, looked at him, and went right back in.

Max looked over Miss Abigale’s shoulder at Sarah; his arms just dangled.

Sarah made a motion for him to hug her back.

He looked horrified.

“I worried and worried about what happened to you.”

Finally, Max placed his arms around the woman, which resulted in Miss Abigale thanking Jesus one more time.

She pulled away again, never taking a hand off him. “Let me look at you.”

Max stood there like a shiny toy in a store window.

“What a fine young man you turned out to be. When Miss Piper said you were coming, my heart about broke in half with joy.”

“That sounds painful,” Max finally spoke.

She laughed larger than his joke warranted. “And funny. Humor and looks. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Miss Abigale turned to Sarah for the first time, and that smile instantly turned into a mask of horror.

Her eyes swung to Max, then back to Sarah. “Child, don’t tell me you did that. I will whoop you all the way back to California.”

Sarah lifted both hands in the air. “I had a fight with a camera. Maxie here wanted to beat up the man holding it.”

“Baby, don’t you lie to me,” Abigale warned Sarah.

Sarah said the only thing she thought Miss Abigale needed to hear. “Hand to Jesus.”

Miss Abigale leaned her forehead into Max’s chest and nearly sobbed with relief. “Don’t give this old woman a heart attack.”

“I’ll try not to.”

“Look at me forgetting myself. Come in. You must be tired from your travels.”

Miss Abigale pulled open the screen and pushed open her door.

Max held the doors for Sarah to walk through.

“Thank you, Maxie ,” she teased in a whisper.

His eyes narrowed, but Sarah would swear she saw a hint of joy in his amber gaze.

Miss Abigale’s home was exactly as Alex and Piper described.

Worn-out furniture overflowing with handmade quilts. Walls overstuffed with pictures and shelves filled with knickknacks ... some of them dusted off and others ... not so much.

But it was cozy and warm, and it smelled of cinnamon and cookies.

While Sarah moved farther into the room, Max was rooted at the door.

His eyes roamed around the walls as Miss Abigale told them to get comfortable while she brought out some refreshments.

Sarah wanted to ask if Max was okay, but she knew from the short time she’d known the man that his answer would be “Fine” no matter if he was or wasn’t.

Instead, she left him alone with his thoughts and moved around the room, looking at the pictures on the walls.

A younger version of the woman banging around in the kitchen stood next to a man a head taller than her, his arm over her shoulders. “Is this her husband?”

Max shrugged and moved closer to see. “I have no idea.”

“Do you remember a husband?”

Max shook his head and moved to another wall of photographs.

How much did he remember? That’s what Sarah wanted to know.

It couldn’t be much, considering he was abandoned at the age of two.

“I hope you like hot cocoa.” Miss Abigale held a tray as she carefully walked back into the room.

Sarah pushed aside a magazine on the coffee table.

“My favorite,” Sarah said.

Three cups of hot goodness, along with the cookies Sarah smelled when walking in the door, sat on the tray.

Max turned away from the pictures and forced a smile.

Miss Abigale pointed to the sofa as she eased her bones into an upright chair with arms. “You sit on down there where I can get a good look at you.”

Sarah waited for Max to obey a woman who wouldn’t be denied, then took a seat on the other end of the sofa since distance was what Max had seemingly needed after they left LA.

“Tell me everything. Did you have a happy childhood?”

Sarah saw Max struggle with his answer.

“I-I really can’t complain.”

Miss Abigale hummed her emotions. “Mmm, mmm, mm! Did they find you a proper home? I knew your mama wasn’t fit. You deserved two parents who loved you with all their hearts.”

Max blinked several times, his answer frozen in the air.

Sarah leaned forward, grabbed one of the cocoas, and inched closer to Max’s side before handing it to him.

“Max moved around awhile before they found the right fit,” Sarah spoke for him. “Isn’t that right?”

Max looked from the mug in his hands to Sarah, then the mug. “That’s right.”

“And school? You were such a bright child. Saying words faster than any I’d ever seen.”

Sarah started to move away when Max placed a hand on her leg.

“My teachers liked me.”

Sarah leaned back and stuck close to Max’s side.

He handed her the cocoa, which she sipped as Max grew more comfortable telling Miss Abigale half truths to save the woman any distress.

“Teachers liking you says a lot.”

“Did you have children of your own, Miss Abigale?” Sarah asked.

She shook her head. “No. Sadly, my husband and I couldn’t have kids. We tried, but it wasn’t meant. He passed long before your mama moved in,” she told Max. “I needed the extra money once I retired. Your mama seemed like the right choice. Single woman, kept to herself. Wasn’t till you were a couple months shy of coming into this world that we really got to talkin’ to each other.”

“What did you talk about?” Sarah asked.

“Max, mostly. Oh, she’d talk about her job from time to time.”

“What about my father?” Max finally spoke.

“Nothing about him. Lisa changed the subject anytime I brought it up. I assumed he wasn’t a good man and left it alone.”

“Did she ever say anything about her family?” Sarah asked.

Miss Abigale shook her head slowly. “I have pushed my brain to remember as much as I could after your friends showed up.” She paused. “But they’re not really friends, are they? Is it true that your daddy was some rich man that owns hotels? I saw something on the news, and then when Miss Piper called, she told me that Chase and Alexandrea were your brother and sister.”

“It was a surprise to me, but yes.”

“Mmm, mmm, mm! That must have been an awful lot to take in after all these years.”

“I was told my parents were both dead,” Max said.

Miss Abigale let her gaze fall to the folded hands in her lap. “I suppose that was for the best. No point in giving a child hope that a parent was going to come one day, only to live a life of disappointment.”

“Now that we know Lisa might still be alive, we really want to find her,” Sarah said as if it was as much her quest as it was Max’s.

“I can see why you might want that. But your mama ... she wasn’t a good woman. She hurt you once, I’d hate to see you give her a chance to do that again.”

Max lifted his chin, stared into Miss Abigale’s eyes. “Emotional pain only happens when you care about the person who causes it. I need to find her for closure, Miss Abigale. Not to rekindle a relationship she abandoned.”