by Zoe Carter
“I feel for her,” Trevor said. “To be that loopy? Everyone must know Maris self-medicates and everyone ignores it, because they want her money and the prestige her name brings to fund-raisers or events. Who’s looking out for her?”
“Obviously not her husband. In fact, I’d say there’s a good reason he likes her to be so out of it. That’s what we’re going to find out at five thirty.”
Trevor frowned. “I don’t like taking advantage of fragile people. I don’t like how easy it was to get us back inside that house and have access to Marcus Carlington.”
“You have a big heart, Trevor Gallagher.”
His heart was gone, actually, but he still had morals, still believed in right and wrong. Then again, he’d ignored that last night because it had felt so right to be with her, to be one with her. In the moment.
And as Lauren looked at him now with that expression that revealed everything she was thinking about him—all good things—he desperately wanted to pull her against him and give in to what he felt, which was the strongest desire to kiss her, to feel those soft lips on his the way he had last night and then some. But he had to remember that she actually did have a big heart and that it was his to break. He wasn’t going to do that.
He had to keep his hands off Lauren Riley.
Chapter Sixteen
“Mrs. Carlington, are you sure you don’t recall seeing this young woman in your home?” Lauren asked, spreading out the photos of Tammy on the coffee table in the parlor. “A witness,” she added, emphasizing the word, “reports that she saw Tammy go inside.”
Maris Carlington took a sip of her sherry and soda and looked over the photographs. “That girl has the loveliest brown eyes. My mother had brown eyes.”
Lauren felt for the woman as much as Trevor did. Maris was definitely on pills, and drinking certainly couldn’t be helping. “Mrs. Carlington, why don’t we all have some club soda with a twist of lime, and you can throw away that heavy drink. I’d be happy to serve.”
“No worries, dear,” Maris said. “I limit myself to two alcoholic beverages per day. A sherry in the morning and a whiskey in the afternoon.” She stood up, swaying ever so slightly, and headed to the bar, dropping ice cubes into two glasses and pouring the sparkling water.
“Mrs. Carlington, is your husband at home?” Trevor asked. “Perhaps he could take another look at the photographs and maybe he’ll remember having seen her.”
“Marcus does appreciate a pretty girl,” Maris said. “Let me see if he’s available.” The club sodas forgotten, she left the room.
Lauren’s stomach flip-flopped. She slid a glance at Trevor. Marcus does appreciate a pretty girl.
Trevor stood, his every muscle rigid, his jaw tight.
A moment later, Marcus Carlington preceded his wife into the room and shook Trevor’s hand and nodded at Lauren. “I’m surprised to see you both again. I thought I explained that Tammy was never in our home.”
But you sure do remember her name, Lauren thought. Interesting.
Trevor sat back down, but sat ramrod straight. He was restraining everything in him from backing Marcus Carlington against the wall and demanding to know what happened to Tammy.
“Mr. Carlington,” Lauren rushed to say, “we’re just hoping to establish a time line of her final days. If you did happen to see her, it would be a big help in determining the time frame.”
“Ah, yes, I see.” Marcus reached into the pocket of his navy blazer and pulled out a pair of glasses.
He briefly looked at the photos, then took a step back. “No, I’m sorry but I’ve never seen that girl before.”
“The witness is sure she saw Tammy enter your home,” Lauren said, which was a lie. “Perhaps Maris welcomed her in and doesn’t remember?” she suggested, eyeing the swaying woman.
“I suppose that’s possible,” Carlington said.
“Why would she have come?” Trevor asked. “That’s what we can’t figure out. What business would Tammy have had here?”
Carlington paled. There it was. Subtle, but there was a shift in the tone of his complexion. “Well, I can’t possibly know that.” He leaned back and cleared his throat. “Perhaps she hoped to apply as a cleaning girl or something. Or she was selling something. I really don’t know.”
“Honestly,” Maris said, “if Marcus saw this girl...” She pointed at the photos lining the coffee table. “He would remember. Trust me. He always notices the pretty young ones.” She chuckled. “Yesterday, we were heading to the new Italian place for dinner and Marcus couldn’t take his eyes off the young blond hostess. Marcus, really, she couldn’t have been more than nineteen.”
Marcus Carlington’s cheeks flamed. “Maris, don’t be silly. I only have eyes for you, my dear.” He patted her hand and leaned down to kiss her cheek, then stood, the stony glint back in his eyes for a moment. “We’ve been married for forty-two years. My heart is with my Maris.”
“Oh, you’re such a dear,” Maris said. “Whose head wouldn’t be turned by a pretty young thing?”
Lauren tried to keep her disgust off her face. “So, Mr. and Mrs. Carlington, you’re absolutely sure you don’t recall seeing this girl, Tammy Gallagher,” she added, enunciating the name for Marcus’s discomfort. She kept her gaze on him, looking for any telltale signs of guilt or fear.
Was that sweat on his forehead? Or was Lauren just hoping he’d give something anyway?
Maris reached for her drink but missed and the glass tumbled to the floor “I’m so clumsy.” She weaved as she reached down for the empty glass, and Marcus steadied her.
“I need to help my wife lie down upstairs. If you’ll excuse us,” Marcus said, looking from Lauren to Trevor. “Again, I am sorry we can’t be of any help. Good day.” Carlington opened the parlor door and waited. Lauren and Trevor stood and headed out, following Marcus across the marble foyer to the front door. “Look,” he whispered as he opened the door. “I understand you’re just trying to get to the bottom of your sister’s murder. But you’re upsetting Maris, and as you can see, she’s quite fragile.”
“I understand,” Trevor said, his jaw rigid. “Thank you for your time.”
“Yes, thank you,” Lauren said, leveling a look at Marcus Carlington. “You should know, though, that we won’t stop investigating until we’ve uncovered the truth about Tammy and all the missing girls. So far, you’re our best lead. I think you were the last person to see Tammy Gallagher alive. Are you sure you have nothing more to add?”
She wasn’t sure if she should have said it or not. But if he was Tammy’s killer, and he’d sent those thugs to kill her and probably Trevor next, who the hell knew what he was capable of?
Marcus drew back. “No, nothing, sorry.” He all but pushed them out the door, then closed it behind them. She wondered if the bike was in one of the three garage bays. More likely it had been taken apart and buried in the woods.
“Everything inside me tells me that man is guilty of something,” Lauren whispered as they headed back to her car. “‘Marcus sure does appreciate a pretty girl.’” She cringed in disgust. “And staring at the hostess at the Italian restaurant? All of nineteen.”
They got in the car and buckled up. “I know,” Trevor said. “We need to stay on him, but we also need to be very vigilant. The last time we left Carlington’s house, two hit men came after you.”
Lauren’s phone buzzed with a text. Family meeting tonight at dinner. 7 p.m. Be there.
Yes, ma’am, Lauren thought. She held up her phone so Trevor could read the text.
“Well, at least I know you’ll be at the safest home in Thornwood Heights,” he said, pulling out of the Carlingtons’ drive.
“Ha. I don’t know about that. Family meetings can be pretty combative.”
“Your father did me a huge favor today,” he pointed out. “No
matter what, he’s on our side. Everything he does, he does to keep you safe.”
“I will say this for the last time, Trevor Gallagher. I’m a grown woman. I accept the nature of my job.”
He kept his eyes on the road, the jaw tight again. “I’m not sure I can, Lauren.”
“Where the hell is this coming from?” she asked. “Am I demanding you marry me because we had sex? Give me a break. You want to pull away, fine. Pull away. But stop using my safety as an excuse.”
“An excuse? Lauren, my sister is dead. And someone’s come after you twice.”
Crud. That was insensitive. “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“We’re both just very tightly wound,” he said, squeezing her hand. “We’re close to the end here. I know it. I feel it.”
Right. Lauren felt it too. The end was near. She was supposed to be a lone wolf just like Trevor when it came to matters of the heart. Her work was supposed to be everything. She had too much to prove. And now she was getting what she wanted with Trevor, but did she want more from him?
Nothing in her life made sense right now. Not this case. And not her feelings for the handsome cowboy driving her home, his body shifted as far away from hers as possible.
* * *
Lauren wasn’t sure what to expect when she walked into the family home five minutes later. She could hear Jennifer and Nova in the kitchen talking about whether American cheese was really cheese at all, but how it was the only acceptable choice for grilled-cheese sandwiches.
“I’m here,” Lauren called out as she walked through the hallway into the kitchen.
“Good,” Jennifer said, sliding burgers off the fancy stovetop grill her boyfriend had brought up before he’d gone back to New York a month ago. “Let’s all go into the dining room. Dad,” she called out. “Dinner.”
Jennifer set out the platter of burgers and toppings on the dining room table. Nova carried the platter of steak fries and Lauren took the pitcher of iced tea. They all sat down as Tommy Riley came out of his den, looking everywhere but at Lauren. He didn’t smile at her. He didn’t say hello.
Okay, now she was getting suspicious. What the hell was this all about?
Her father put a burger on a bun, added ketchup and mustard and lettuce and tomatoes and sautéed onions, then lifted his creation to his mouth. But instead of taking a bite, he sighed and put it down. “Lauren, I need to make something crystal clear. Because you’re the press, I need to be very careful with what I say around you. That’s just a fact. But I also need to be very careful with how I conduct myself in my jurisdiction. I have to be aboveboard. Dot every i, cross every t. What went down today in the office worked out okay, but things could have gone very differently.”
“How?” Lauren asked, her appetite waning.
“Lewton’s waiting for anything to grab on to to get my job, Lauren. I don’t like to actively piss off the guy. Your demands put me in a tough spot today. I had to talk Lewton down when he had every right to press charges. I don’t like owing favors, Lauren. Do you understand?”
Lauren stared at her father, then looked at Jennifer and Nova. Clearly her father had talked to them about this—or whatever this conversation was really about, since no one seemed confused but her.
“Are you saying you bought Trevor’s freedom by patting Lewton’s back?” Lauren asked.
“Not outwardly, no. But if he does me a solid, I’ll owe him one. That’s how it works, Lauren. And I don’t want any part of that. I want to make it very clear to all three of you that I don’t want to be put in that kind of position again.”
“But, Dad, so what if you give Lewton an extra vacation day or whatever?” she said, trying to lighten the very somber mood that had fallen over the dining room. “I mean, that’s what we’re talking about. Right?”
Tommy Riley slammed his fist down on the table. “That’s not what we’re talking about, Lauren! We’re talking about favors, and who the hell knows how dark and twisted those favors will get? I convinced a deputy chief not to press charges against my daughter’s boyfriend. God knows what he’ll demand in return. Or hell, maybe he’ll go to the press, the Thornwood Heights Gazette, and let them know how things work at the PD.”
“Dad, come on. You can’t be serious. Lewton’s not going to hold this favor over your head. He probably just realized it would be bad publicity for the department if I made it public.” And Trevor is not my boyfriend.
Her father glanced down at his plate, then back up at her, and looked twenty years older, the lines etched into the corner of his eyes never so pronounced. “Years ago, I looked the other way and let someone get away with hitting a young woman. I thought maybe it was a one-night-stand situation that had gotten out of hand. The man in question paid her not to press charges and I made sure she quietly left town.”
Lauren stared at her father, then at Jennifer, who was staring down at her plate. Jennifer knew. And so did Nova, since she was also staring at her burger.
Lauren’s stomach twisted. “And you did that because...?”
Tommy Riley closed his eyes, then opened them and sat back in his chair. “Because he promised to pay for your mother’s cancer’s treatment when I couldn’t. The money ran out. She would die without it. So I took the bribe. And I kept looking the other way until I couldn’t stand to look at myself in the mirror or put my uniform on or walk into my office without shame burning inside every cell of my body.”
“What happened?” Lauren whispered, staring from her father to her sisters and back to Tommy Riley again.
“He came to the house one night when I wasn’t home. Your mother told him to take his blackmail money and shove it.” Tears slid from Tommy Riley’s blue eyes, and he hung his head. “She died a month later.”
Lauren squeezed her eyes shut and covered her face with her hands. “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” she said, horror building inside her.
“I can’t ever ask for a favor that might put me in that position again, Lauren.”
“Dad,” Lauren said, jumping up and rushing over to her father, who stood up. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” Tears streamed down her cheeks, and her father pulled her into a hug.
“You didn’t know. And how could I tell you? I didn’t tell a soul for twenty-two years until I finally told Jennifer a few weeks ago when she demanded to know where the bad blood between me and Connor Blake stemmed from.”
Lauren pulled away. “Connor Blake? It was Connor Blake who blackmailed you into looking the other way after he hit a woman?” She thought of the way he’d practically spat at her on Main Street the other day while he’d been walking with his family.
“You understand how vital it is that this stay a family secret, Lauren,” Jennifer said. “Off the record, and it doesn’t leave this house.”
“And Connor Blake? How can he be trusted?” Lauren asked.
“Because he has something to protect too,” Nova said. “The secret is equally his.”
Lauren felt sick to her stomach, but nodded. “You have my word as a Riley. It stays in the family vault. It’s very old news anyway, right?” Lauren asked, sitting back down and trying to act like she didn’t feel run over by a Mack truck. She forked a steak fry, despite her lack of appetite. “I mean, Connor Blake is like a model citizen. Or seems to be anyway.”
“Old news is being dredged up, though,” Nova said. “Jen’s investigation into Abby Blake’s disappearance. The other missing girls. The remains found at the boathouse, still unidentified.” Nova took a deep breath. “I don’t condone what Dad did twenty-two years ago, but I understand it. And hell, I’d probably have done the same thing in desperation to save Mom. Lauren,” she said, facing her. “Just be mindful and careful.”
Lauren nodded and bit her lip, pushing her fries around on her plate. “How could Connor Blake put you in that position?” Lau
ren said, her voice broken. “What a damned monster.”
“Yes, but twenty years ago his seventeen-year-old daughter disappeared and hasn’t been heard from since,” Tommy said. “The one I lost for twenty years is sitting right there,” he added, pointing at Jennifer. “When I see Blake now, walking down the street like he owns this town, which, hell, maybe he does, I think about Jennifer just disappearing instead of fleeing to New York City, the two of us never knowing what happened to her. Can you imagine that hell?”
“I’m not family, but I was her best friend,” Jennifer said. “And I can tell you, it is hell.”
“What happened to Abby?” Nova asked softly. It was a question they’d all been asking for two decades. “How does someone just disappear without a trace?”
“I’m working on finding out,” Jennifer said, her tone back to business. Finding out what happened to Abby Blake seemed to drive everything Jennifer Riley did. It was why she became a detective. Although Jennifer hadn’t been in Thornwood Heights, Lauren knew her sister had been going over the case every day in her mind for twenty years.
“Could Connor Blake have had something to do with it?” Lauren asked.
“I’ve turned that around in my mind for years,” Tommy said. “I know that man. I know every dead, empty void in his heart and his eyes. But I don’t believe he had anything to do with his daughter’s disappearance. That man’s anguish was very real when Abby went missing. And he’s never let up on the pressure to find out what happened.”
The four of them were silent for a few moments.
“I love the three of you more than anything in this world,” Tommy Riley said. “Just always know that. No matter what.” He turned his attention to finally eating his burger and changed the subject to the Cubs and the high school baseball team, which might make the championships that year.
