“Not exactly the storybook marriage everyone thought it was, was it?” Walker shook his head and stood up. “I’m going home.”
“Good. You look like you could use about two days’ worth of sleep.”
“Forget sleeping,” Walker retorted with a grin. “I’m going to wake up my wife and show her how grateful I am that we have a very uncomplicated marriage. We both understand all the rules and live by them.”
Tucker groaned. “Could you not tell me things like that? You’re talking about my sister.”
“We’ve been married almost two years now. You do know we sleep together, don’t you?” Walker taunted.
“Go away. Get out,” Tucker ordered.
“You’re just jealous because there’s no one waiting at home in your bed,” Walker accused.
But there could be, Tucker thought, his memory seizing on the passion behind that kiss he and Mary Elizabeth had shared earlier. There definitely could be.
But only if he lost every last grain of sense he possessed, he concluded with a heavy sigh.
“You could be right, Walker. Maybe I am jealous as hell.”
“Then do something about it,” Walker advised.
How could he? Tucker wondered. Especially when the only woman who could erase the loneliness gnawing at him was Mary Elizabeth?
15
An entire week went by with nothing more than an occasional phone call from Tucker asking Liz if she was doing okay. Because she knew it was what he wanted to hear, she dutifully said yes each and every time. She asked none of the questions that were on the tip of her tongue, because the one time she had, he’d been abrupt to the point of being rude. He wouldn’t even say if he was still making trips to Richmond, working unofficially with Walker right here in town or off on the river fishing with Bobby.
While Tucker was doing who-knew-what, Liz was going stir-crazy at the house. After years of maintaining a jam-packed schedule, she didn’t have nearly enough to keep her mind occupied. She’d made so many calls to Frances just to see how things were progressing with King that Frances had finally come to see if she was truly all right.
Two days ago Mrs. Gilman had come back to work full-time as housekeeper at Swan Ridge, and between them, they had cleaned the place until every piece of glass sparkled, every surface shone and all traces of the violence in her grandfather’s study had been erased. There was only a certain amount of satisfaction to be derived from a spotless home that hardly anyone ever visited.
Thoroughly frustrated, Liz finally broke down and did what she’d sworn she wouldn’t—she called Tucker, determined to find out exactly what was going on and to insist on participating. Even during her lousy marriage, she had never passively sat back and done nothing. She’d devised her own life and lived it to the fullest. She refused to do any less now.
“Hello, Mary Elizabeth,” Tucker said, his tone resigned.
Blast caller ID, she thought, wishing she’d been able to take him by surprise. “Hi,” she said with forced gaiety. “Just thought I’d check in and see what’s happening with the investigation. Any news?”
“None I can share,” he said, still sounding distant.
The last of her patience snapped. “Tucker, what’s going on?” she demanded.
“I just told you—”
“I meant with us,” she said impatiently. “Why are you acting like this? Is it because of the kiss?”
His heavy sigh was answer enough.
“It is, isn’t it?” She had to choke back the desire to laugh. “That kiss scared you. And ever since we got back from Richmond, you’ve been stewing over it, blaming yourself for letting down your guard, haven’t you? You’ve probably even told yourself you were taking advantage of me.”
“Wasn’t I?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Well, it should have scared the tar out of you, too,” he said, sounding embarrassed and disgruntled by her ability to read him so well.
“Sorry, it didn’t,” she said mildly. “But if you’re that uncomfortable with it, we can make sure it doesn’t happen again. We’re not a couple of randy teenagers anymore. We can control our hormones.”
He muttered something that sounded like “speak for yourself.”
This time she did chuckle. “Oh, Tucker, I never thought of you being a coward.”
“I’m being sensible,” he corrected.
“Doesn’t seem that way to me. May I remind you that I am paying you to conduct an investigation? You owe it to me to report in occasionally.”
“You’re not paying me,” he corrected.
That was an unexpected wrinkle. “Of course I am,” she insisted.
“No, Mary Elizabeth. This is on the house. I won’t take money from you. Not ever. Not under any circumstances.”
Liz sighed. They’d fought about exactly this countless times in the past, when Tucker had flatly refused even to share expenses on a date and had growled unappreciatively if she’d given him a gift he thought was too expensive.
Though King Spencer was rolling in money, Tucker refused to accept any handouts from him, either, insisting that he could live just fine on his paltry starting salary as a deputy sheriff. Even as sheriff, he wasn’t exactly rich. But what he lacked in income, he made up for in pride. There were plenty of times when Liz found that damned annoying. This was one of them.
“Then I suppose I’ll have to find someone else to pick up from here,” she told him. “You’re a professional, Tucker. I won’t let you do this for nothing.”
“Too late. You dragged me into this. You can’t get rid of me now.”
“I’m firing you.”
He laughed. “Doesn’t mean I’ll stop working.”
“Oh, for goodness’ sakes, can’t you just come over here and fill me in on what’s been going on? I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
“It’s not your hands that give me trouble,” he said.
“Oh? What is it, then?” she taunted.
“You know perfectly well.”
“Is it my mouth?” she asked in a deliberately provocative tone.
Tucker groaned. “Don’t do this to me, Mary Elizabeth. It’s not smart.”
“I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully. “I think it could be the smartest thing I’ve done in the last six years.”
Tucker didn’t respond, but he was still on the line. She could hear him breathing and imagined that familiar worry line forming across his brow. She decided to let him off the hook for now.
“If you won’t come over, will you at least promise to take me to Richmond the next time you go? You have to admit I was helpful last week. We found those letters together, didn’t we?”
“Yes,” he conceded grudgingly. “But I think you should keep your distance from here on out. You don’t want whatever I find and turn over to Walker to be tainted because you were involved in the discovery. It could look as if you’re trying to set someone up.”
“Is that really the reason, or is it just more hogwash to keep some distance between us?”
“A little of both,” he finally admitted with more candor. “Everybody’s worried about my reputation if we’re seen together, but it won’t be good for yours, either. You’re recently widowed. What will people think if it looks as if you’re taking up with another man this soon?”
“As if I care about that,” she said.
“Well, I do.”
Liz sighed. If he was determined to be gallant, there wasn’t much she could do about it. “Just tell me this, then—were the letters helpful?”
“Walker’s following up on them now,” he said, clearly relieved that she’d changed the subject.
“Has he interviewed Cynthia?”
“That’s scheduled for this morning.”
“Will you be able to sit in?”
“Doubtful, though I’m going to try. If that doesn’t work out, I’m sure he’ll show me a transcript of everything she says.”
“Will you come by afterward,
or at least call me?”
“I’ll let you know what happens,” he promised.
She grinned at his refusal to commit to the means by which he’d let her know. If it was up to him, he’d probably send a note by carrier pigeon.
“Is your family bugging you?” she asked, changing the subject.
“They always bug me.”
“I meant about me.”
“Actually, they have been strangely silent, but maybe that’s because I’ve been hard to track down.”
“Hiding from them, too, huh?”
“Pretty much,” he said cheerfully. “It’s amazing how peaceful things have been. I’m thinking of hiding out more often. I gather from Walker that King had a big family meeting scheduled for one night last week, but I spoiled his sneak attack by not going home that night.”
“Staying with a girlfriend?” she asked in what she prayed was a casual tone, even though her stomach was twisted in knots as she awaited his reply.
“No, Mary Elizabeth,” he said with exaggerated patience. “If there were a serious girlfriend in my life, do you think King would be so nervous about you?”
“Probably.” She thought of a conversation she’d had with King during one of her infrequent visits to Swan Ridge shortly after her marriage. She’d run into him in town. He’d marched right up to her, gotten in her face and told her point-blank that if she ever did anything to exploit the hold she’d once had over his son, he would personally make her life a living hell. She’d believed him. And from time to time, when her marriage had begun to fall apart, she’d clung to King’s admission that she had a hold over Tucker.
Recalling that, she added, “I’m sure no matter how wonderful another woman was, King would be terrified that I was going to mess up the relationship somehow.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Tucker conceded. “But King’s opinion isn’t important. If he tries to give you any grief, just ignore him.”
“Have you ever known anyone in Trinity Harbor who was able to ignore King Spencer when he has something to say? It’s not like he’ll let you get away with turning your back and walking away.”
“But you have an advantage few others have,” Tucker reminded her. “Out of respect for your grandfather, he won’t cause a scene with you in public. Of course,” he continued wryly, “if he turns up at your front door, you might want to consider bolting out the back.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“So, what are you going to do today?”
“Now that you’ve turned me down, I have no idea,” she said, unable to keep the plaintive note out of her voice.
“Go into town. See some old friends.”
“And risk bumping into your sister? I don’t think so.”
“The two of you need to mend fences. You can’t do it if you keep avoiding each other.”
“Tell that to Daisy.”
“Believe me, I have.”
“And?”
“She’s just as stubborn as you are. Come on, Mary Elizabeth. If you’re going to come back here to stay, it’s time to start getting out and renewing old acquaintances. You can’t stay holed up at Swan Ridge forever.”
To her deep regret, he had a point. If she’d just accused him of being a coward for not facing his fears head-on, she could hardly let herself get away with being one. “I’ll think about it,” she promised. “But don’t think for a second that I don’t know that this is just a way for you to get me off your conscience because you’re leaving me out here all alone.”
“Could be, but that doesn’t make the advice any less sound.”
“Tucker…” Her voice trailed off.
“What?”
Liz sighed. “Nothing.” She couldn’t say what she was really feeling, that just hearing the sound of his voice was healing her in a way that nothing else possibly could.
“Bye, then.”
“Goodbye, Tucker.”
“I will be in touch when I have something to report, Mary Elizabeth.”
“I know.”
She heard his muttered oath and a rueful chuckle.
“Saying goodbye’s not one bit easier now than it used to be, is it?” she whispered.
And then, to make it less stressful on both of them, she slid the receiver back into its cradle. But it was a long time before she could make herself release the only connection to him she had.
Tucker slammed the phone down, cursing the fact that after all of his careful attempts to keep things between them cool and distant, he’d given himself away at the end. It was hard to say goodbye. He’d never been able to do it, not when they were together and it was just for a night, not after she was gone for good.
It was a darned good thing that interview with Cynthia Miles was scheduled for ten o’clock. He planned to try his best to convince Walker to let him go along. He wanted to hear firsthand what she had to say about those letters and her subsequent attempt to blackmail Chandler about their relationship.
If he planned to pull that off, he had to get over to Walker’s and try to intercept him before he left Trinity Harbor. That meant having a run-in with Daisy, more than likely, but maybe he could tell her again what he’d just told Mary Elizabeth—that it was time to put the past behind them.
As he drove to Walker and Daisy’s, he recalled the friendship that had bloomed between Mary Elizabeth and Daisy years ago. There had never been any question that Mary Elizabeth was his friend first, but the two girls had spent an awful lot of hours behind closed doors giggling and experimenting with makeup and talking about who-knew-what. Him, more than likely.
In those days, Daisy had been a staunch supporter of Mary Elizabeth’s. She’d already loved her like a sister, and when Mary Elizabeth had told Daisy of her plans to marry Larry Chandler, Daisy had felt every bit as betrayed as Tucker had. Mary Elizabeth’s plea that Daisy be her maid of honor had fallen on deaf ears. Daisy had refused even to attend the wedding, much less participate in it.
“I won’t object if you want to be in the wedding party,” Tucker had told her honestly. “I know how close the two of you are.”
“Were,” Daisy had corrected emphatically.
“I appreciate your loyalty,” Tucker said. “But—”
“It’s not just about loyalty,” Daisy said, cutting him off. “I won’t stand up and watch her make the worst mistake of her life.”
And that had been that. On the day of the August wedding, Daisy had shown up at his house at seven in the morning and proposed an outing to Kings Dominion amusement park. “We can eat hot dogs and cotton candy and ice cream and ride the roller coaster until we get sick.”
Tucker had laughed at the suggestion. “And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”
“It will certainly take your mind off what’s going on over here,” she had insisted.
Because getting drunk was never a solution to anything, Tucker had agreed to her plan. To his amazement, Bobby and King had come along in a show of solidarity. They’d ridden every ride in the park, eaten till their stomachs ached and even laughed a time or two, especially at the sight of King’s astonished expression when he’d gotten unexpectedly soaked on the water ride.
How could Tucker berate his sister for choosing sides now, when he’d thanked her for it back then?
He was halfway up the walk when Daisy came out to meet him.
“Are you thinking of going with Walker this morning?” she demanded.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I want answers every bit as badly as he does.”
“You told him—you told everyone—that this was his investigation,” she reminded him.
“It is.”
“How do you think it looks if you’re shadowing his every move? A lot of people around here still think of Walker as a come-here. They don’t entirely trust him to know his job. You’re contributing to their doubts.”
Tucker started to protest but stopped himself. She was right. He might see this
as doing the job he’d been hired by Mary Elizabeth to do, but others might view it as a lack of faith in Walker’s expertise.
“I figured you’d be here before I could take off,” Walker said with an air of resignation as he joined them before Tucker could tell Daisy he’d reached a decision.
“I just came by to wish you luck,” Tucker said.
It was harder to tell who was more surprised, his sister or Walker.
“Really?” Walker said as Daisy silently mouthed, “Thank you.”
“You’ll do better without me interfering,” Tucker said. “Cynthia knows I’m working for Mary Elizabeth. Seeing me would just put her on the defensive.”
“I’ll call you with any news,” Walker promised. “You can see the transcript the minute we get it typed up this afternoon.”
“Good enough,” Tucker said, then turned to his sister. “Any chance you can rustle me up some blueberry pancakes?”
She cupped his face in both hands and planted a kiss on his cheek. “You can have anything you want. Just let me say a proper goodbye to my husband.”
Tucker held up his hands. “I don’t need to see this. Where’s Tommy? Maybe he’ll play some catch while I wait for you to get breakfast on the table.”
“Tommy’s a late sleeper. You can have the pleasure of trying to roust him out of bed,” Daisy said. “Tell him about the pancakes. That might get him moving.”
Tucker waved to acknowledge the advice as he went inside.
Ten minutes later, a cranky Tommy in tow, he returned to the kitchen to find Daisy spooning pancake mix onto a sizzling griddle. She turned to face him.
“Thank you for what you did out there.”
“Don’t mention it. You were right.”
She grinned. “Words every sister lives to hear. While I’m on a roll, can I offer a piece of advice?”
“No.”
She frowned at him. “Listen anyway. Let somebody else help Mary Elizabeth. You can’t possibly be objective.”
“My objectivity’s just fine.”
“Oh, really? What was your first reaction when you found her at your house?”
Tucker thanked heaven that Daisy did not know exactly where he’d found Mary Elizabeth that night. “Surprise,” he told her.
Along Came Trouble Page 19
