“You’re up early,” Daniel said.
His son placed one mug down on the table and took a sip of the other. “I could say the same for you.”
Daniel swam to the other side of the pool and hoisted himself up. He climbed out of the pool, water dripping from his limbs. “I’m always up this early.”
Bradley waited until Daniel dried himself with the towel and picked up his coffee before he said anything more. “I overheard you talking to Ali’s mother last night.”
Taking a drink of his coffee, Daniel waited to see what his son had to say. His conversation with Zelda Foster had been interesting to say the least.
“I can’t believe she asked you how much you’re worth.”
The sad part was he could believe it. She looked at him, at his house, and she saw dollar signs. And if he read her right, she wasn’t only seeing them for her daughter, but for herself as well.
When he didn’t respond, Bradley ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up on end. He'd done that a lot growing up. Bradley was the most serious of his children and he often became frustrated when things weren’t going the way he thought they should. “I did some digging—”
Daniel stopped with the mug halfway to his mouth. “The next words out of your mouth better not be, I did some digging on Ali.”
A guilty look crossed his face.
“Bradley.”
“Look, I know you’re probably mad.”
Daniel narrowed his eyes at his son. “Probably?”
“Okay, I knew you’d be mad, but I was concerned. You’re my dad and—”
“And I can think and act for myself. I’m not feeble and senile, yet.”
“Dad, would you listen? Please?”
“If you’re going to try and convince me again that Ali’s after my money, then you’re wasting your breath.”
“No.” Bradley blew out a breath. “I mean, I still haven’t made up my mind about her yet, but I’m more concerned with her mom.”
So was Daniel, but he didn’t say it.
“Ali’s mom...she’s...well, she’s almost a ghost.”
“A ghost?”
Bradley rolled his eyes like he had when he was a kid. “A ghost. She has next to no work history. I can’t find any record of her buying a house or renting an apartment for the last twenty years, and her credit rating is zero.”
Daniel processed that. No work history could mean two things. She was either working and getting paid under the table, or she was getting money by other means. He tried not to think what those other means might be.
The woman he saw last night hadn’t looked strung out on drugs. In fact, aside from the drinking, she seemed well put together. Older than Ali, sure, but she took care of herself. Zelda Foster wasn’t living in back alleys and eating from a dumpster.
“Who, at her age, has a zero credit rating and no work history.”
Bradley said it as a statement, not a question, but Daniel answered it anyway. “I don’t know.”
“I bet Ali does.”
Daniel narrowed his eyes at his son. “Watch yourself.”
Bradley blew out another breath. “She has to be getting money from somewhere.”
He couldn’t disagree with that. Zelda Foster showed up on Ali’s doorstep every time one of her relationships du jour ended. It was possible she hitchhiked her way from wherever she was, but what about food?