“I don’t have a job at the moment,” he said. “Tell Vickie that I’ll pay her back. Tell Tessa...” He shook his head. “Tell Tessa I stole it.”
“You are stealing it,” Babs said.
Finn let out a harsh laugh and nodded. He met Babs’s eyes, gave a wan smile, and left.
Babs stood there for a few moments, then marched up the stairs and pushed open the door to Izzy’s room.
Izzy flipped over from where she was lying on her stomach and set her feet on the floor. She sniffled and rubbed at her eyes.
“Is he gone?” she asked.
Babs shut the door behind her. “Yeah.”
Izzy nodded, her pain clear on her face. Babs walked over and sat down next to her on the bed.
“You know, New York isn’t that far away,” Babs said quietly. “We could go visit. See a Broadway play. Do some shopping.”
Izzy’s chin twitched.
“She was almost happy,” she said, a tear tracking down her cheek. “I just wanted her to be happy so bad. She’s given up everything for me and she was almost...”
Babs pulled Izzy into her arms and let the child cry on her shoulder for a minute. But just for a minute.
“You know, sweetheart,” she said, pulling back a bit from Izzy, “it’s one thing to express sad feelings. It’s another thing to indulge them.”
Izzy nodded, swiped at her face, and straightened her posture. “Okay.”
Babs tucked her index finger under the girl’s chin. “I’ve got an errand to run right now, and I’d really love it if you’d come with me.”
Izzy gave a soft smile and sniffed. “Sure. Where are we going?”
Babs stood up and held out her hand. “To the post office. I’m expecting a fax from a friend, and with any luck, it’ll stir things up a bit.”
Chapter Twenty-three
Finn sat in Babs’s parked rental car, staring through the windshield straight ahead as he white-knuckled the steering wheel. His view wasn’t great; mostly the ivy that clung to the brick walls of Village Pizza, which jutted up against the parking lot at Max’s. He looked to his left, through the length of the parking lot to Max’s Diner.
Just go, you idiot, Wallace said from the seat next to him.
Finn shot the dog a look. “You know, there are a thousand ways to get rid of a dog in New York City, and a lot of ’em are painful.”
Go, Wallace said, turning around twice in the front seat before lying down, snout on his paws.
Finn sighed, undid his seat belt, and got out of the car. Every step toward the diner, he had to resist the urge to go back, but eventually, he was there, his hand on the doorknob.
He just couldn’t turn it. He’d sworn he’d die before setting foot in that diner and...
Oh, fuck it. It wasn’t like he was a man of his word, anyway.
He pushed the door open and stepped inside. The gregarious morning chitchat came to a sudden halt, and all that was left was “All My Exes Live in Texas,” playing on the crackly old radio. Pammy, one of the waitresses who had been a fixture at Max’s Diner forever, froze with the last plate for a table of four in her hand. The woman who ordered the eggs had to grab the plate and place it on the table herself.
“Hey,” Finn said, giving a short wave to the crowd.
A few people said hello, one or two men nodded, and then Abigail Husteff got up and threw herself into Finn’s arms, sobbing.
“Thank you so much,” she said. “I never would have been able to afford Mr. Peabody’s leukemia treatments if it wasn’t for you.”
Finn reached one arm up and gave her a few awkward pats on the back, then looked to her girlfriend, Cindy Simes, who mouthed the word “cat.”
Finn cursed under his breath. He wanted to tell them all he was no hero, that it was Tessa; it had all been Tessa.
But he couldn’t. Instead, he patted Abigail on the shoulder again. “Yeah. Hey. No problem.”
A moment later, Cindy huffed, got up, and peeled Abigail off Finn, giving him a grateful smile as she guided Abigail back to their table. Finn glanced around the room, and they were all looking at him with that mixture of happiness at seeing him, and genuine gratitude. He smiled back at them.
“Yeah, um,” he said. “Is Max here?”
Pammy, who had regained herself sometime during the scene with Abigail, pointed toward the kitchen. Finn nodded, gave one last wave to the crowd, and curled around the counter to get to the kitchen door.
And there was Max. His hair was a little whiter, his build a little stockier, and when he turned around the cranky-old-fucker lines had etched even deeper between Ms eyebrows, but it was Max.
And it felt good to see him. Somehow, Finn had never imagined this moment without physical threats and kitchen utensils being used as weapons. But both he and Max stood there, perfectly quiet. The old clock on the wall ticked loudly as they stared at each other, and then finally Max spoke.
“You’re okay, then?”
Finn felt a huge lump in his throat, and tried to swallow it down. “Yeah. I’m okay. You?”
Max gave a curt nod. Finn took a deep breath.
“Look, I’m on my way out of town...” he began.
There was a slight change in Max’s expression, but Finn couldn’t quite read it.
“Back to Las Vegas, then?”
“No, actually,” Finn said, smiling lightly. “I thought I’d try New York.”
Max’s brows rose a touch. “Oh, yeah? Pretty close by, then?”
“Yeah.”
Max cleared his throat. “You taking your crazy assistant with you?”
Finn was confused for a moment, then let out a small chuckle when he realized who Max was talking about. “No. She’s decided she wants to stay here, and what Babs wants, Babs gets.”
Max huffed. “The woman’s been making me insane. Did you know she wanted to organize a karaoke night?”
Finn laughed. “No, but it doesn’t surprise me.”
There was another long moment of silence.
Now or never, idiot, Finn thought.
“Look, Max, I’m sorry about—”
“Aw!” Max gave a violent wave of his hand. “Get on out of here. I’ve got cooking to do.”
With that, he turned around and tossed some pancake batter on the griddle. Finn stood there for a second, not sure if he’d accomplished what he came to do, but hell. Coming meant something. And Max knew it. That had to be enough for now.
He crossed the kitchen and was about to slip out the back door when Max called his name. He stopped and turned to face his uncle, who looked at him with his typically gruff expression.
“You’ll call this time, though, right? Babs will worry about you and make me crazy if you don’t.”
Finn smiled. “Yeah, Uncle Max. I’ll call.”
Max flashed a short smile at him. “Well, go on. Get out of here, then.”
Finn nodded and ducked out the back, grateful for the cold air in his lungs as he did.
One down, one to go. Then he could leave Lucy’s Lake behind for good.
Somehow, though, that didn’t sound as good to him as he thought it should.
***
“What’s it say?” Izzy asked, poking her head over Babs’s shoulder to get a look at the fax. Babs folded it in half and tucked it in her purse, leading Izzy outside as she did. She realized that Adele had done her a favor by letting her receive her fax there, but still. Adele had been very nosy when she saw that the cover page was from a detective agency in Brattleboro, and it was a good thing she’d told Derek Brown, P.I., to just fax her the evidence directly. Adele wasn’t sharp enough to understand what the bank statement meant.
But Babs sure did.
“What is it?” Izzy said when they got outside. “Why are you smiling?”
“Oh, darling,” Babs said, putting her arm around Izzy’s shoulders. “I’m smiling because sometimes, every now and again, Fate will hand you exactly what you want at the exact moment you want it, and those moments are just too deli
cious not to enjoy.”
Izzy nodded, but her knotted brow gave away her confusion. “So, what did you get?”
“I’ll tell you while we walk,” Babs said, stepping out to the street and looking from left to right, then glancing back at Izzy. “You don’t happen to know which B and B Mary Ellen Neeley is staying at, do you?”
***
Tessa threw another log in the old woodstove at the shack. She’d been skating for hours but she hadn’t been able to push it all away. Now, instead of the calm she usually felt, she was just empty inside. She wanted more than anything to run out and find Finn, track him down, try to convince him that he could stay and they could find a way to keep Izzy and...
But that was stupid. Finn was right. Mary Ellen Neeley would investigate him, and at the very least she’d see his spotty work record and take that into court as evidence of Tessa’s unfit parenting. Look at the man she loves, Mary Ellen would say. Look at the man she lets live in the house with this poor, impressionable child. ..
Tessa struck a match in a violent motion and stuck it in the paper and kindling at the bottom.
It was so stupid. Finn was a good man. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, whether his work record showed it, he was a thousand times better than all the men out there with good, steady jobs who lied and cheated and stole. At least Finn was upfront about it. He was a thousand times better than Matt Tarpey, who burned down buildings and then killed her mother when she figured it out.
And yet, prior to his confession, Matt Tarpey would have been exactly the kind of man Mary Ellen Neeley wouldn’t object to.
Tessa felt a constriction in her chest. The kind of man Mary Ellen Neeley wouldn’t object to?
This was insane. What was she doing? She was letting Finn and Mary Ellen Neeley tell her what was best for her and damnit, the zing was best. Finn was best. And if it meant she’d have to fight harder and longer and messier with Mary Ellen Neeley and the State of Vermont to keep her sister, then damnit, she’d do it.
But whatever she had to do, she wasn’t going to let Finn go. Not without a fight. Not this time.
She opened the door to the woodstove and poked around with a log, spreading out the fire so it would die down. But, damn, that would take too long. She grabbed the bucket on the floor. She could fill it with snow from outside, melt it on the woodstove, douse the woodstove— fifteen minutes, tops.
Then she could go find Finn, even if it meant driving out to New York to get him.
It was a plan. She grabbed the bucket and raced for the door, screaming in surprise as she opened it to find Vickie and Margie standing there.
“Oh, shit!” Tessa said, putting her hand over her chest. “You scared the hell out of me.”
“We found her; she’s at the shack,” Vickie said, then flipped the phone shut and smiled at Tessa. “Izzy’s on her way.”
“Why?” Tessa said. “What’s going on?”
“I’m so glad we found you,” Margie said, stepping inside. “Luckily, you’re always in one of three places—your house, Max’s, or the lake.”
Tessa felt slightly offended by that. “I go other places,” she said weakly.
Both Margie and Vickie grinned at her. Tessa looked back and forth between them.
“What?” she said, her voice suspicious. When those two got together, things tended to get out of hand. Besides, she needed to go out and talk to Finn. “Look, ladies, I’ve got something I have to do—”
“Not right now, you don’t,” Vickie said, grabbing her by the arm and leading her back into the shack. “We’re waiting right here until Izzy gets here.”
“Don’t worry,” Margie said, hugging Tessa’s shoulders. “This is gonna be worth it.”
Chapter Twenty-four
Finn sat in the combination interrogation/visiting room at the Lucy’s Lake sheriff’s office. It was a small box of a room, with cement-block walls painted a sickly shade of green. It hadn’t changed in the decade since he’d last sat there, but back then, he’d never sat there as a visitor.
The door opened and Marshall Evans escorted a handcuffed Matt Tarpey into the room. Finn stood up, looked at Marshall.
“Thanks, man,” he said.
Marshall smiled. “No problem.” He glanced at Tarpey. “You have ten minutes. That’s all.”
Finn looked at Tarpey, who was settling into the chair on the opposite side of the long table.
“I’ll have him back to you in five.”
Marshall nodded and shut the door.
“I don’t know what you want with me, Finn,” Tarpey said, his voice sounding rough and tired. “This has nothing to do with you.”
“You killed Tessa’s mother,” Finn said. “That has something to do with me.”
Tarpey met his eye. “Karen Scuderi died in a car accident.”
“Running from a fire, which you set,” Finn said.
Tarpey shrugged. “What do you want? You want me to say I’m sorry? I’ve confessed. It’s done.”
Finn watched him for a moment. It was just the one question. He needed the one question in his mind answered, and then he could leave, let the police deal with this asshole.
“Isabella Scuderi hired me to look into this case,” Finn said. “I just need you to fill in the blanks for me.”
Tarpey let out a breath and sat forward, his eyes on the table as he spoke in a monotone voice. “I set a number of fires over the course of seven years. I used defective or recalled electrical items, things that wouldn’t raise suspicion. Karen Scuderi suspected I was setting the fires, and she confronted me on it. I went into her shop one night to burn it down. I intended to scare her into keeping quiet. I didn’t know she was there. She must have been working in the back. As is typical in these cases, she suffered from a certain amount of smoke inhalation, which can cause dizziness and disorientation. Getting behind the wheel of a car in that state is just as bad as driving drunk. She drove into a tree, and that was it.”
Tarpey finally raised his eyes to meet Finn’s. Finn leaned forward.
“So you went ten years without setting a fire?”
“Yes,” Tarpey said. “Then I saw a classified ad in the paper. I concluded it was Vickie Kemp, causing trouble, so I set her place on fire as well, to shut her up.”
Finn nodded. “Okay. Couple things. Why would Karen be in the shop at two in the morning?”
Tarpey shrugged. “I think Karen’s the only person who can answer that question.”
Finn locked his eyes on to Tarpey’s. “I have to give it to you. It was a stroke of genius, keeping that locket all these years. That never would have occurred to me, to use something like that.”
And in that moment, Finn got what he’d come for— that flash of surprise in Tarpey’s eyes. It was just a flash, and if he hadn’t been watching carefully, Finn might have missed it.
But he didn’t. Now, for the final test.
“I wouldn’t have stuck it under the doormat, though,” he said casually. “Too easy to find.”
Tarpey, the confidence back in his eyes, shrugged and sat back. “Well, hindsight is twenty-twenty, right?”
“You stupid son of a bitch,” Finn said. He pushed up from the table. “What did you think, no one would figure it out?”
A slight look of alarm crossed over Tarpey’s face. “This has nothing to do with you, Finnegan.”
“If Tessa or Izzy gets hurt because you were in here playing protector for your crazy wife,” Finn said, “then you can bet your ass it’ll have everything to do with me.” Finn pushed up from the table and knocked on the door.
“Wait a minute,” Tarpey said, sitting forward. “Grace didn’t... it wasn’t...”
Finn shook his head. “We’re done.”
Marshall opened the door, and Finn stepped out.
“How long before he goes up to County?” Finn asked. Marshall shrugged. “Couple hours.”
“Don’t let them take him,” Finn said. “He’s not your man.”
Marshal
l laughed. “He’s not? He confessed. Why would he confess?”
“Why does any man do something stupid?” Finn glanced at the door behind him, then looked back at Marshall. “You need to get Grace Tarpey in here. She’s your arsonist. I have to go find some people, make sure they’re okay.” He handed Marshall a card with his cell number on it. “Call me when you’ve got Grace in custody, okay?” Finn headed toward the door.
“Wait a minute,” Marshall called after him. “He just told you all that?”
“No,” Finn said. “But he’ll tell you.”
***
Tessa glanced at her watch. It had been fifteen minutes. At this rate she really was going to have to go all the way to New York to talk to Finn. She sighed.
“Can’t you just tell me what it is?” Tessa asked. They were all three sitting on the cot with Tessa in the middle, and every time she tried to get up, they pulled her back down. “I really have to—”
There was a light knock, and both Vickie and Margie squealed, this time pushing Tessa up from the cot. Tessa shot an exasperated look back at them as she headed to the door. She had it open before she turned her head and looked, at which point she froze in her tracks.
The evil bitch-troll social worker from hell.
Tessa shot another look back at Margie and Vickie. “This is what you held me here for?”
Mary Ellen stepped inside, followed by Izzy—who was grinning like mad—and Babs, who held some papers in her hands. Mary Ellen kept her eyes on the floor, and didn’t look up until Babs cleared her throat.
“What—?” Tessa said, but then Mary Ellen started talking, as if it was a speech she’d memorized.
“I did a bad thing,” Mary Ellen said. “And I am very, very sorry.”
Mary Ellen looked at Babs, who raised her eyebrows, prodding. Mary Ellen turned back to face Tessa.
“Ten years ago, someone offered me money to keep you and your sister distracted. Every month, I’ve received five hundred dollars in cash to make things difficult for you and I’m very, very, very sorry.”
Mary Ellen didn’t look sorry. She looked pissed off. And her tone was extremely tight.
The Comeback Kiss Page 24
