Once upon a time, their friends had called them Mutt and Jeff, because Marissa was a couple inches shy of six feet tall and built along generous lines, while Veronica was a fine-boned not quite five-five. They didn’t fit any better now than they once had, yet Veronica felt as if she’d come home when she was hauled into her oldest friend’s warm, cushiony embrace.
Eventually Marissa stepped back and gripped Veronica’s shoulders in her long, impeccably manicured hands to hold her at arm’s length while she inspected her from head to foot.
“You cut off all your hair,” she said, touching Veronica’s sleek bob. “How very chic—I like it. Did you have it done in Europe?”
“Yes, in Edinburgh.” Then the guilt she’d been living with since getting back from Scotland rose up to swamp her. “Rissa, I’m so sorry I didn’t think to leave a number where I could be reached. I can’t believe Crystal’s funeral had been over and done for nearly a month before you finally tracked me down.” She laughed, but it was a short-lived sound, lacking humor. “God, when I think how full of myself I was! That castle restoration was my big break, and I thought I was pretty hot stuff to have gotten it all done on time and on budget. I feel so guilty knowing that while I was busy congratulating myself over the future clients this project would bring me, Crystal was already dead and buried.”
Marissa gave her a shake. “Well, stop it.”
“You’re right, you’re right.” Veronica took a deep breath, blew it out, and stepped back, straightening her spine. “This isn’t about me.”
“Of course it’s about you—your sister was murdered!”
That stabbed straight to the core, but Veronica shook her head. “No, it’s about Lizzy losing her mama, having her daddy accused of the killing, and her aunt missing in action when she needed her most. How’s she doing? It was so hard to tell during those two brief telephone conversations.”
“Oh, Ronnie, she breaks my heart.” Marissa took Veronica’s hand and led her into the house. They crossed the gleaming slate floor of a kitchen whose granite countertops were cluttered with family flotsam, and whose state-of-the-art fridge bristled with children’s art. “She acts as if nothing’s happened, but it has to be eating her up inside. Not only has she had to deal with the loss of both her parents, but you know what this town can be like—everyone and his brother knows every last detail of why Eddie and Crystal are gone and is busy talking about it.”
They settled on the great room’s overstuffed couch, their knees tucked up and bodies angled to face each other. “None of this has driven her further into her shell, though, which is pretty darn remarkable, considering her shyness.” Marissa smoothed the tail of her fat, sandy brown braid through first one fist, then the other. “My kids tell me some of her classmates have given her a hard time at school, but luckily she’s got a decent network of friends. God knows Dessa’s a fierce little supporter. And Riley came home with a bloody nose the other day for defending her from one of his fellow third-graders.”
“You’ve got great kids, Marissa.”
Dimples punched deep in her friend’s cheeks. “Yeah, who knew? Just when I think military school sounds like a good plan for the two of them, they turn around and do something that makes me so proud I could bust.” She shrugged. “I suspect it’s a conspiracy to see how fast they can drive me to gibbering insanity, but what’s a woman to do?”
Veronica snorted. “Like you’d change a thing about either of them, even if you could. You’ve done a great job of raising them. It had to be tough with Denny’s death.”
“Yeah, it’s been tough at times, but it’s been five years and life goes on—especially when you have kids.” Marissa shrugged. “You just do what you have to do.”
“Well, what you’ve done is stellar. And to take on my problems, too…” She reached out and touched Marissa’s shoulder. “I owe you so much. For taking care of Lizzy and for keeping the Tonk going.”
“Oh, pooh.” Then Marissa fanned herself with her hand. “Speaking of the Tonk, though, isn’t that Cooper a honey? And he’s such a sweetheart!”
“A sweetheart?” That wasn’t exactly the first description to pop into Veronica’s mind.
“Yes, indeed. He’s so charming and easy to work with, and he doesn’t drink up all the profits like the first guy I hired.”
Charming? With everyone except her, maybe. And please, easy to work with? “You think he’s a sweetheart?”
Marissa laughed. “Okay, I’ll admit he doesn’t look like your basic sweetie pie—”
“I’ll say. He reminds me of one of those vampires that’re so popular on television these days. And not the new-age sensitive ones who’re always trying to reform their wicked ways, either. He’s more like the badass archvillain one that pillages his way through the populace.”
“Nah, too tan,” Marissa disagreed. “I wouldn’t mind being pillaged by him, though.” Then she laughed and leaned forward to give Veronica a quick hug. “Oh, V, it’s so good to have you back. You always did have a unique way of looking at things.”
“I’m not sure how I feel about being back,” Veronica admitted, “but it’s sure good to see you. And I’m in desperate need of your knowledge of the citizens of Fossil.” She scrubbed her hands up and down her khaki-clad thighs. “The Tonk’s shorthanded and I’ve been informed I have to lend a hand there until we can get the waitress shortage straightened out.”
“Hoo, boy.” Marissa gave her a commiserating smile. “I can only imagine how you must have loved hearing that.”
“Oh, yeah.” She made a face. “From the time we were big enough to wield a mop, Crystal and I must have given up half our Sundays to clean that place.” Her antipathy for the Tonk was all tied up with memories of her father—his charm, his lack of ambition, and his innate chauvinism were all inextricably woven in her mind with the family bar. “Of course, I don’t have to tell you that. God knows I vented to you often enough about Daddy’s idea of a woman’s mission in life, and Mama’s reinforcement of it when she refused to make him lift a finger.” She shrugged apologetically for dragging the subject up yet again. “I’ll work the Tonk because I have no other choice if I want the place to sell. For Lizzy’s sake I’d like to get every penny out of it that I can, so she’ll have the freedom to choose what she wants to do with her life. But the instant I find a replacement waitress, I’m outta there.”
“Um, I sure don’t want to discourage you, sweetie, but the economy’s been excellent around here the past couple of years. And that means it’s harder to fill the lower-paying jobs, so it might take a while.”
“Swell.” Veronica’s stomach dropped, but she squared her shoulders and shoved the disheartening news aside. “Is that why I came home to find Cooper Blackstock living in Crystal’s house?”
“Yeah. The vacancy rate for rentals is almost nil, so I figured why not stick him in that empty house, where he’ll be nice and handy to the Tonk.”
Because he disturbs me. An image of the way he’d looked this morning popped into Veronica’s mind: all smooth-shaven hard jaw, blond hair standing on end, and those dark brows pulled together in a scowl. He’d taken up more than his fair share of the kitchen table as he’d sat across from her, his shoulders blocking her view.
Then she shook the image aside. She’d deal with Blackstock later; right now she had real problems. “God, Mare, I feel like I’m in the middle of a Twilight Zone episode. There’s a part of me that always worried Crystal would come to a bad end, but it was nebulous stuff, you know? Like her driving drunk and crashing the car, or one of the men she played her eternal games with suddenly flipping out and hitting her. Blackening an eye, maybe, or splitting her lip.”
She looked at her friend in baffled horror. “I sure never envisioned anything like this. How could Eddie have done it? I always thought he was the nicest, most forbearing guy, because, face it, we both know what Crystal could be like. But this! I mean, I knew they were in the middle of a custody battle for Lizzy, but I never though
t…I never dreamed…” Shoving her hair off her forehead, she swallowed hard. “Gawd, I actually encouraged her to let him raise Lizzy, because I thought he was the better parent.”
“He was the better parent. I guess he just snapped.”
“They’re positive he’s the one who did it, though?” Veronica shook her head impatiently. “Well, of course they are—it had to be him, didn’t it? Otherwise he never would have run and left Lizzy to deal with everything all on her own.” A bitter taste coated the back of her tongue.
“Eddie and Crystal had a pretty public fight at the Tonk that night, too,” Marissa said gently. “He made some threats. And the police found his leather jacket in a dumpster in the same lot where they found her body. She had trace evidence from it under her fingernails.” Then, her face stricken, she reached over and squeezed Veronica’s hand. “I’m sorry, V. That was insensitive. Let’s talk about something else, what do you say?”
“Yeah.” She swallowed hard, wanting desperately to erase the images that had sprung to mind. “Help me figure out someone really good to stay with Lizzy when I have to work.”
3
BY THE TIME MARISSA’S KIDS AND LIZZY BURST through the kitchen door a few hours later, Veronica had made some decisions concerning her six-year-old niece’s welfare. She studied Lizzy for changes as the little girl entered on the tail of lanky, eight-year-old Riley, who was wrangling loudly with his sister Dessa, whose static-charged blond curls seemed to take on the energy of her personality as she argued with pedal-to-the-metal ferocity. Lizzy’s golden brown hair was neatly combed as always, her retro pea jacket and jeans spic-and-span, her tennis shoes firmly tied. Her genes were an interesting combination of both parents, and she had Crystal’s smaller stature and delicate bone structure. Veronica thought she looked thinner as she trailed quietly in the rambunctious Travitses’ wake, her expression solemn. But the moment her gaze settled on Veronica, her entire face lit up.
“Aunt Ronnie?” She stopped dead by the kitchen counter, her backpack dangling from one shoulder where she’d started to take it off. “You’re here!”
Riley and Dessa quit arguing and turned to stare at Veronica, who had risen to her feet at their entrance. Backpack thumping to the floor, Lizzy launched herself across the room but stumbled to a halt just inches away from hurling herself into Veronica’s arms. Her chin dipped to her chest and her narrow shoulders hunched up around her ears as she stole a hesitant peek at her aunt through the silky curtain of her bangs.
Her uncertainty tore at Veronica’s heart. “C’mere, you!” She hauled the child into her arms and held her tightly to her breast. “I’ve missed you! Do you know how long it’s been since we were last together? It’s been exactly two months, three weeks, and—”
“Six long days,” Lizzy said in unison with Veronica, tilting her head back to look up at her aunt as she completed the litany of their time spent apart. She relaxed into Veronica’s embrace. “I counted it up on my calendar last night.”
Crystal had been in the habit of driving her daughter over the Cascades and dropping her off at Veronica’s whenever she had hot plans for the weekend. And since she’d often had hot plans, and an even hotter determination to keep Eddie from having custody of Lizzy one minute longer than their original agreement stipulated, Veronica and Lizzy had grown particularly close this past year. They’d developed the ritual of counting off the days and weeks since their last time together, then regaling each other with the knowledge as soon as they met up again.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner.” Veronica brushed Lizzy’s soft hair away from her face. “But I’m here now, and we’re family, you and I, so never doubt that I’ll take care of you. We’ll start by moving you back into your own room this afternoon.”
She looked up in time to see Dessa’s stricken face and gave the little girl a reassuring smile. “Would you like to come along and help us?” she asked. “Because you do understand, I hope, that you’re welcome to visit Lizzy anytime you want. And on the weekends, if your mama agrees, you girls can plan sleepovers.” Then she shot a glance at Riley, who was busy making sure everyone knew he was too cool to show an interest in the proceedings. “You’re always welcome, too, Riley.”
He rolled his eyes, stuffed another cookie from the cookie jar into his mouth, and grunted. Swallowing audibly, he grabbed a plastic jug of milk out of the fridge. “Like I wanna play with a coupla dumb girls.” He drank straight from the container, then lowered it and said, “Brad Marshall lives over by you, though. I s’pose I might could do stuff with him while the girls play with their dollies.”
Marissa got up and plucked the milk bottle from her son’s fingers. “Get a glass,” she said, then shook her head. “Might could. If this is an example of our school system at work, I may have to rethink the way I cast my vote come levy time.”
Riley gave his mother a big, unrepentant grin, and looked so amazingly like a male version of Marissa when she was the same age that Veronica had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing out loud. Her lips must have twitched, though, because Marissa gave her a stern look.
“Don’t encourage him.”
“I’m not. I wouldn’t.” She straightened her face and looked down at Lizzy, still in the circle of her arms. “Do you need any help packing your stuff?”
“Nuh-uh. I did it last night. It’s all upstairs; should I go get it now? Don’t go away—it won’t take me any time at all.”
Veronica hated the sudden anxiety in her niece’s voice, but she merely smiled and assured her she wasn’t going anywhere. Lizzy pulled out of her embrace and turned to her friend. She seemed on surer ground when she said, “You can come help me bring it down, Dessa.”
All three kids tramped out of the kitchen and Veronica turned to Marissa. “Oh, man, it’s just starting to sink in that my status has been upgraded from aunt to mom. It’s such a huge responsibility, and Lizzy seems so fragile. What if I screw it up? Oh, God, Rissa—what if I mess her up?”
“Take a deep breath,” Marissa instructed and rubbed comforting circles between Veronica’s shoulder blades. “Now blow it out and listen to me. You’re not going to screw anything up.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because you’re good with Lizzy. Because you’re crazy about her, and you’ll do your best by her.”
“I’ve never been totally responsible for her for more than a week at a time; what if my best’s not good enough?”
“It’ll be more than enough. Look at what you’ve already accomplished this afternoon—you managed to settle her insecurities with a hug and that how-long’s-it-been thing you two share. And you’ve arranged for reliable help to take care of her while you’re at work. And that, toots, is pretty much the way it goes—you simply take things one day at a time.”
So that’s what Veronica determined to do for the rest of the day. She’d live in the moment and resolve each matter or problem as it arose. But she was glad that Coop was nowhere to be seen when they arrived back home.
“Man, lookit all this stuff!” Riley said as they passed through the living room. His mouth hung open as he attempted to take in everything at once. “My mom doesn’t have near as much cool stuff in our house.”
Lizzy winced slightly, but didn’t say anything. Leaving Riley to explore the downstairs and back yard, Veronica followed the girls upstairs and watched while Dessa emptied Lizzy’s suitcase and her niece arranged photographs on her dresser. There were several shots of golden-haired, golden-skinned Eddie, one of Crystal, and even a framed snapshot of Veronica and Lizzy that had been taken at the Woodlawn Park Zoo during one of Lizzy’s visits last fall.
She watched her niece delve into the cardboard box and pull out a photo album that she put on the bottom shelf of her nightstand, then a raggedy stuffed pony that she placed carefully on her pillow. Looking around the room, Veronica felt a spark of rancor toward her sister.
It was nice enough, as far as cleanliness and neatness went. But
it could have belonged to anyone. There were no special touches that indicated this was a little girl’s room, aside from the ones that Lizzy herself had provided. The walls were painted white, the bed sported a plain white chenille spread, and utilitarian blinds covered the window.
Veronica suspected that Crystal had dropped a bundle on that tasteless display that passed for decor down in the living room, and her bedroom similarly bristled with a glittery plethora of objets d’art. Would it have killed her to spare a few bucks to make her daughter’s room the tiniest bit special? It ate away at a place deep inside Veronica to admit that her sister probably hadn’t possessed much in the way of maternal instincts.
So look on the bright side, she thought with a guilty little lift of her spirits. You probably can’t do a worse job of mothering.
“It’s not surprising Eddie finally flipped out,” Coop heard someone down the bar say. “Crystal boasted that she was playing him.”
From the corner of his eye he saw it was Sandy the waitress who had spoken, and grabbing a cloth, he started wiping down the bar, working closer to where she stood chatting with a woman he’d recently served a gin and tonic.
“Playing him how?” the woman asked skeptically. “Crystal never struck me as the mastermind type.”
Sandy laughed. “Funny you should say that, because I think my exact response was, ‘Yeah, right—you and who else?’”
“What’d she have to say to that?”
“Nothing, really. She just smiled that smart-ass smile of hers. So I asked her flat out what she meant, and she said—” Sandy’s confidential tone of voice suddenly turned brisk. “Can I get you anything else?”
“Huh?” Gin-and-Tonic looked at her as if she’d lost her mind, then sat a little straighter when the waitress tipped her head infinitesimally toward Coop, who was clearly within listening range. “Oh! No, thanks. I’m set.”
Head Over Heels Page 3
