They heard the sound of a car engine behind them. Lissa glanced in the rearview mirror, while Emily turned all the way around to peer out the back window.
A dark blue sedan, a Mercedes, was pulling to the curb. The door was thrust open, and a woman got out, jaw set, mouth a grim line.
“My God,” Lissa said. “It’s Courtney.”
“Courtney Coe?”
“Rickman.” Lissa offered her married name. “I wonder what she wants.”
Nothing good, Emily thought.
Lissa opened her door.
“I don’t know if talking to her is such a good idea,” Emily said.
“I’m not backing down from her, Momma.” She stepped out, and if she said anything to Courtney by way of a greeting, Emily didn’t catch it.
Something was said about Darren. The words restraining order and slander rose on the razored edge of Courtney’s voice.
Emily slipped quietly from the truck, joining Lissa on the sidewalk.
Courtney looked at her, and at first Emily thought from her hard expression that she was only very angry, but there was a sheen of something like tears in her eyes, and her jaw was trembling. There was a lot more going on with her than anger, Emily thought. “Is anything the matter?” she asked.
Lissa glanced over her shoulder. “Courtney says she’s getting a restraining order against me, Momma. I’m to keep my distance from Darren and the rest of her family. It’s hard to imagine, isn’t it, that once we were best friends.”
Courtney scoffed. “You Winters,” she said, as if the name were a curse. “You think you can say anything, do anything, that you’re somehow immune....” She straightened, sniffing, wiping her eyes. “That might be true in this town, but I’m married to a Houston city councilman. Glen has the ear of the mayor, the governor, people with more money and influence than you’ll ever see. You don’t know the trouble that can come down on you. A restraining order is only the beginning.”
“Are you threatening us?” Lissa asked.
“I’m telling you to leave my brother alone. I’m warning you to keep your baseless accusations to yourself or suffer the consequences. We are prepared to take you to court. We will sue you for every last dime. We’re sick of it. Do you understand me? You crossed a line this time, accusing him of being a rapist and a murderer—”
“It’s the truth, Courtney,” Lissa said strongly. “Do you remember Holly McPherson?”
“Oh, please tell me you are not going to bring up all that old business. Darren didn’t do one thing to that girl that she didn’t want done.”
“He tried to do the same thing to me, the summer before,” Lissa said, and told Courtney what had happened.
“I don’t believe it,” Courtney said when Lissa finished.
“Of course, you wouldn’t,” Lissa answered.
Courtney looked out into the middle distance a moment before bringing her gaze back. Emily thought she looked resigned or discouraged, some combination. “We have both held on to an illusion when it comes to our brothers, Lissa. We let our loyalty to them come between us. I’m sad when I think about it. You were my best friend, and I’ve missed having one, missed you. But you’re wrong about Darren and wrong about Tucker, and I’m sorry for you that you can’t see it.”
“I’m sorry for you,” Lissa said, “for the very same reason.”
Courtney turned up her palms; she apologized again and said nothing had changed. Her family still intended to sue, and then she climbed into her Mercedes and drove away.
“Can you believe her nerve?” Lissa asked, coming with Emily through the gate. “She’s sorry for me. As if I’m the one in denial.”
“Let’s not tell your father about her visit, okay?” Emily led the way into the house. “The idea that she’s gotten a restraining order, that she intends to sue...” Emily paused at the foot of the stairway, feeling overwhelmed. She felt as if she were standing on an ocean shore watching a huge wave rocket toward her, knowing there was no use attempting an escape, because she could never outrun it.
“It’s nothing but talk, Mom. I could tell by the look on her face. She was so nervous. Did you notice?”
Following Lissa into Tucker’s bedroom, Emily said, “Honey, I truly believe she meant it when she said she was sorry.”
“No, Momma, she didn’t.” Lissa found a canvas tote in the closet and set it on the bed. She pulled T-shirts, socks and underwear from Tucker’s dresser drawers and crammed them into the bag. “It was an act, plain and simple. She’s a manipulator and a bully, like Darren, like her mother. We’ve always said so, right?”
Emily didn’t answer. When Lissa disappeared again inside Tucker’s closet, she took out the wad of his clothing and repacked it.
Lissa handed her a blue hoodie. “He might need this. It’s still cold out nights.”
Roy was in the kitchen when they came downstairs, standing at the window, looking out. Emily was dismayed to see him. He’d been in his workshop when she went to Anna’s and she had hoped he would still be there. She cast an anxious glance at Lissa, hoping she wouldn’t mention Courtney.
“I’ll call you later,” Lissa said, heading for the back door.
“You’re not speaking to your old man, is that it?” Roy asked, facing them.
Emily saw that he was leaning heavily on a cane, and her eyes widened.
“What?” he said. “You’ve never seen a man use a cane before?”
“I’ve never seen you use one, Dad.”
“Well, you have now.”
“Roy? Is the pain that bad? Shouldn’t you—?”
“Don’t bring up the doctor business again, Em. They can’t do a damn thing for me.”
She crossed her arms.
Lissa said something about his hard head. She indicated the tote and said, “Mom and I packed up some of Tucker’s clothes. He wants to stay with me and Evan for now. I’m sure you agree it’ll be better for everyone.” It was almost but not quite an accusation, an indictment.
“Your mother told me your news.” Roy’s glance fell to Lissa’s midsection. “You’ll make a fine mother, honey, if you choose it.”
“You really think so?” She sounded amazed, and perhaps she should be, Emily thought. Roy could be sparing in his praise.
He nodded at the tote. “You’ve been mothering your brother a long while now, whether he needed it or deserved it.”
“He thinks you hate him, Dad. Do you know that? This morning, he opened up to me about the day of your breakdown. I didn’t know what to say, how to help him. I don’t know how to help you, either.”
Emily stepped toward Roy. “Lissa, maybe this isn’t the time.”
“Then when? Tucker’s a mess, so’s Daddy.”
“I don’t hate your brother,” Roy said. “How could I? I’m responsible for him. Whatever issues he has, whatever business there is, it’s on me. It doesn’t concern you or your mother.” He took a step and then another, staggering a bit, gripping the back of a chair to steady himself.
Emily’s heart lurched. She should say something, assist him in some way. She didn’t move.
But Lissa crossed the floor to him. “That’s the problem, Dad. You take it all on yourself. You won’t talk about what troubles you or ask for help. Look where it’s gotten us, where it’s gotten Tucker!” Her voice was high, pleading, offended and laden with concern all at once.
Emily caught her elbow. “Let it go, honey,” she said. She didn’t want a protracted discussion now, an argument that involved pointing fingers and assigning blame.
Lissa’s long sigh was an indication of her impatience with her parents, what she saw as their refusal to confront the facts. She retraced her steps to the door, but then she paused, and turning resolutely, she went to her dad’s side and set her arm around him, awkwardly.
He turned to her, and cupping her cheek, he told her he loved her.
Watching them, Emily brought her tented fingertips to her mouth. She couldn’t recall that Roy had ever said that aloud to either of his children, not since they were very young.
“I love you, too, Daddy,” Lissa said, and her voice faltered, and then she left swiftly, closing the door, even the screen, without a sound.
She didn’t want us to see her cry, Emily thought, and it worried her that Lissa would be driving when she was so distraught.
“I thought he would get over it,” Roy said.
Emily looked at him.
“That day, what I did to him. I thought he would forget. I was hard on him, I know, but I wanted him to grow up strong. A man wants that for his son.”
“All Tucker ever wanted from you, Roy, was your love and respect.”
He stared blindly at a point above her head, face wrenched into an agonized knot. Tears leaked from his eyes, glazing the deep grooves in his cheeks.
Emily was stunned. Picking up a kitchen towel, she went to him. “Roy?” she said, and dabbed his face. He didn’t respond to her ministrations, her murmuring, and only tolerated the attention for a few moments before taking her wrists and moving her hands away from his face.
“I don’t need your pity,” he said, pulling a wad of tissues from his pants pocket.
Looking at it, Emily had the sense he had been crying earlier. “It isn’t pity. I want to help you. If it’s the pain—”
“I thought if I was soft on him, even after that day, it would make him weak, and I didn’t want that. Because if you’re weak, this world will eat you alive, you know? It will eat your guts out.”
She held his gaze, feeling at a loss and frightened on some level deeper than any she had experienced since this whole nightmare began. She wanted to step back from Roy, but at the same time she wanted to cling to him. Instead, she clenched the towel in her hands.
The awful silence was pierced from outside by the song of a bird, a wren from the sound, and the series of notes rising from its tiny throat were so high and lovely and clear she felt as though her heart would shatter from their beauty. And when the song stopped, she thought how pain and beauty are often so inextricably woven together they seem to be of the same cloth.
25
LISSA WAS STOWING the groceries she’d bought on the way home from her mother’s house when Evan came in. She closed the refrigerator door and waited for some cue from him, a hint to his mood. They hadn’t spoken all day except in her imagination, where she had rehearsed a dozen different conversations. She wondered if he felt as awful for how wrong things were between them as she did.
“Hey,” she said, because she didn’t know how else to begin.
“I figured there would be reporters outside.” He shrugged out of his jacket. “There weren’t any at the office, either. It’s weird.”
“Maybe it’s because there’s some good news for a change.”
“Such as?”
“First, the blood in Tucker’s Tahoe turned out to belong to a dog just the way Tucker said it would.”
“Okay. There’s more?” he asked, but not as if he cared. Not as if she or her news or Tucker mattered to him.
Her smile faded. She told him about the receipts, that Tucker had given them to the police. “Mickey’s asked the D.A.’s office for them. He can use them to build Tucker’s defense.”
“Where is he?” Evan hung his jacket in the mudroom.
“In the studio, working. When I talked to Mickey, he told me he thinks the state may have acted prematurely when they arrested Tucker, that they figured on finding something concrete when they searched the house and car, but they didn’t.” Lissa kept Evan’s gaze.
“What?” he prompted.
“You know Mickey’s been looking for information on Revel and the Camry, and so far, he’s saying there’s not much of anything to be found on either one.”
“I wonder what that means.”
“I don’t know. He said to let him know right away if we see Revel or the Camry again, or if anything strikes us as suspicious,” Lissa said.
“That’s it?” Evan asked.
“He’ll get back to us with anything further.”
“Jesus.” Evan ran his hand over his head. “Tuck knows all this, I guess. What did he say?”
“Not much. He doesn’t look at any of it as good. I think he feels too sick about it. Look, I know you don’t want him here, but he’s got nowhere else he can go.”
“It’s not that I don’t want him, Liss. You know me better than that.”
“I thought I did.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
She didn’t answer. She gathered the empty grocery bags and put them in the recycle bin. “Mickey said it looks as if the state still intends to go through with the trial, as idiotic as that sounds.”
“It doesn’t surprise me.”
“Do you know how long this could take?” she asked. “Not just the trial but all the preparation? Months. A year, even. Mickey said it’s unlikely either he or the state will be ready to go to trial in June. They’ll ask the court to postpone.”
“We’ll just have to deal with it, each day as it comes. It’s the same with the money.” Evan pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. He had his cell phone in his hand, scrolling through his messages.
Lissa picked up the dishcloth, dampened it and wiped the already clean countertops, the top of the stove, the oven hood.
“We’re losing clients.”
She paused. “How many?”
“Four so far.” Evan toyed with his phone, not looking at her. “New sales inquiries are down, too. I don’t even want to tell Roy how bad it is.”
“How can we do this, Ev? It’s only going to get worse.” Lissa sat next to him, catching his glance, holding it. She was thinking of Courtney, her threats to get a restraining order, to sue Lissa, that Evan didn’t even know about yet. There was so much piled on his shoulders already, how could she tell him?
“We’ll find a way,” he said. “Whatever it takes, we’ll do everything we can to get Tucker out of this mess.”
“I know, but I’m talking about the pregnancy. Even aside from all the stress, is it fair to bring a child into this? What if we lose the business? What if we have to cancel the insurance?”
“I’ll get work somewhere. We’ll manage.”
“How, Evan? Think about it.” She touched her temple. “What if we lose the house?”
He looked at her, floored. “You’re willing to go that far?”
“You’re the one who said whatever it takes.”
“So, what you’re saying is that you would sacrifice our child and our house, in essence everything we have—”
“Where do you want to draw the line, Evan? Can you put a dollar amount on my brother’s life? Because that’s what’s at stake here. Could you keep this house if the cash from selling it would mean the difference between whether Tucker was acquitted of these charges or imprisoned and possibly put to death for them? Could you sleep nights all tucked up in our bed here if that happens?”
“You’re way ahead of yourself, Liss.”
“I can’t see bringing a baby into it. We can always try again after this is over, if that’s what you want, but right now, for me, anyway, the focus has to be Tucker.”
Evan stood up. He pushed the chair to the table. “I’ll just pack a few things, then, and I’ll see an attorney in the morning. I can’t let you do it. I can’t stand by while you get an abortion. Taking our baby’s life isn’t going to save Tucker—”
“What the hell is he talking about?”
The shock of Tucker’s voice, affronted, disbelieving, brought Lissa to her feet. She stammered
something about not realizing he was there.
But he wasn’t listening; he was shouting. “Did I hear you right? You’re pregnant and you’re getting an abortion because of me, the shit I’m in? Tell me you’re kidding!” Tucker ripped his cap from his head.
“Don’t yell at me, okay? I’m not sure. Everyone keeps acting as if I’ve made up my mind, and I haven’t.” Lissa looked at Evan.
He shrugged. “It sounded to me like a done deal.”
“You can’t do it, Liss.” Tucker was white-faced. “It’s wrong, just wrong.”
“But you know I never wanted— Never thought I was— That I would make a good mother, and anyway, it’s just not a good time now with everything that’s in front of us.”
“Bullshit!” Tucker was shouting again. “You can’t let how I’ve fucked up be any part of a decision like this. I heard Evan say we lost more business today because of me, what people think I did, what they think I am, a fucking monster. Don’t make me the bad guy in this, too.” He stared hard at her, pleading, terrified.
“Oh, Tucker...” Lissa breathed his name. She reached for him, but he stepped back from her, eyes reddened and glimmering with tears.
Slapping on his cap, he dug in his pocket, pulled out the company van’s keys. “I never should have come back here. When I went to Austin, I should have kept on going.”
“No, Tucker—”
Evan said something about sitting down to talk, but Tucker paid no heed. He strode to the back door, yanking it open.
“Wait!” Lissa called. She followed him across the back porch, onto the driveway, but he was already in the van, keying the ignition and then he was gone.
Evan didn’t touch her; he didn’t pull her into his embrace as he might have. “He’ll be back,” was all he said.
Lissa went into the house. Evan followed her.
“I guess you’re leaving, too,” she said, but she left him before he could answer, going swiftly from the kitchen into the bedroom. She didn’t want to have one more word of discussion or to even think of what more there possibly might be to say. She was tired of being judged, of being a disappointment. Tired of Evan’s refusal to look at the situation from her point of view. She moved mindlessly about the room, straightening the bed linen that Tucker had left in a coil. She emptied a drawer in the chest that held mainly her art supplies and stowed Tucker’s clothes that she’d brought from her mother’s.
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