by Gayle Roper
She’d arranged for the SeaSide jet to pick him up in Hartford, Connecticut, on Friday evening for the long Fourth weekend, gratis of course. Why he insisted on coming to Atlantic City when he had Foxwoods, one of the biggest casinos in the country, in his backyard, Tori never figured out. But she and her bosses were happy enough to help him drop a nice portion of his considerable fortune here.
When he arrived Friday, she saw him to his suite and comped all his meals. The bar in the living room of the suite was stocked with all his favorite beverages, and the refrigerator was full of hors d’oeuvres. While the bellman took his bag into the bedroom and Miles threw his jacket over a chair, Tori prepared his Manhattan with a thin slice of orange.
He took the glass and sipped. “Perfect! You’re amazing.”
She smiled her thanks, thinking about the notebooks she had full of the preferences of the SeaSide’s major clients. “Do you want to decompress here alone, or do you want me to arrange dinner for you? The Boardwalk Lounge has a great new singer.”
“Eat with me?”
“I’d love to.” And she didn’t mind eating with Miles. He was a nice man who still believed in being faithful to his wife, who rarely came with him; she didn’t like the shore because the ocean breezes made her hair frizz. At least with Miles there were no groping hands to discourage without angering the client. At ten she left him at the blackjack table, excited as a kid on Christmas morning.
“Tori.” He caught her arm. He pressed a bill into her hand. Before she could say thanks, his attention was back at the game.
When she’d left to return to Philadelphia on the Fourth around ten in the morning, he’d just come down to the lobby, all bonhomie and brio, ready for breakfast and a day of gaming.
When she came back to Atlantic City yesterday, Sunday, he’d had a disastrous night, betting big and losing big. When she approached him about six to make dinner plans, he was dug in, determined to recoup his losses.
She took his arm. “Come on, Miles. I need a drink and a dashing man to share it with.”
Not that he looked dashing anymore. He looked desperate. She frowned, all too aware that determined gamblers often mortgaged their homes and businesses to the hilt for the cash they needed for big stakes play. She’d never thought Miles such a player before, but looking at his desperate face, she recognized that very real possibility.
Tori took Miles’s arm and gently pulled.
But Miles refused to move. He continued to bet huge sums, his pile of chips and markers disappearing at an alarming rate. He was driven by the fever, and Tori understood. She’d experienced it herself. My next roll—or card or turn of the wheel—will win it all back for me.
But nothing won it back for him. It was 10 p.m. when Carl drove Tori and Miles to the Greyhound depot where she bought Miles a ticket for Hartford via Philadelphia and New York.
“It’s gone,” he kept saying. “It’s all gone. How will I ever pay Robert back?”
Tori tensed. “Robert who?”
“Robert Big Eagle.”
Tori shook her head. Robert Big Eagle was a shark of the lowest sort. He was also brutal in demanding his money. Of course his real name was no more Big Eagle than Tori’s was. It just made him sound like one of the Indian tribe that owned Foxwoods.
“Have you been going to Foxwoods as much as you’ve been coming to the SeaSide?”
Miles nodded.
“Betting as heavily there?”
He nodded again.
Idiot. But she didn’t say it.
As she walked down the darkened boardwalk to Luke’s, she thought it would be nice if she called Miles’s wife to meet him tomorrow when the bus rolled in. After all, they had much to discuss now that he’d gambled away not only his business and his portfolio but his house and his kids’ education fund. And he had Robert Big Eagle to contend with too.
Tori yawned as she climbed to the third floor and Luke’s sumptuous apartment. She pushed her hair back over her shoulder and winced as a lock caught on the brooch she’d borrowed from Libby. Who would have thought Libby’d have such great jewelry? When she started exploring her sister’s room, it was strictly for entertainment value, a chance to laugh at how cheap her clothes were, how hopelessly old-fashioned she was.
And then she’d found the shoebox.
She brushed her fingers over the pretty pin. The gold setting was fourteen karat, the 14k stamped on the back. Maybe there was some value to the stones too. She’d give the thing to Luke as her next payment. She’d given him other jewelry—necklaces, pins, earrings that she’d acquired from clients in the past.
Tonight old Mr. Krasnicki had given her a very nice tip for introducing him to the fifth dancer from the right in the revue in the Pink Shell Lounge. And there was the tip Miles had given her the other night. Luke didn’t need to know about these bits of change. She would keep them for her Chloe campaign.
She was in a very good mood when she fell into bed beside Luke.
13
THE DOORBELL PLAYED the “Westminster Chimes” at nine o’clock Monday morning. As I walked to the door, I thought how nice it would be if that lovely sound wakened the girls instead of my having to do it. While Jenna might be polite when I made them get up so we could go to Sam Pierce’s, Chloe would have no such inhibitions. Morning was most definitely not her strong time.
I looked through the peephole in the front door and saw Drew standing on the stoop. I pulled the door open with a smile.
“Good morning.” I waved him inside. “How about a cup of coffee?”
“Sounds good.” He followed me into the kitchen. He glanced around. “Nice. You should see the one we’ve got. Very fifties, and not in the retro sense. It’s just old. The rest of the place is great, but the kitchen—bad. I figure they never ate in.”
I surveyed Aunt Stella’s compact and wonderful kitchen. “It is pretty great, isn’t it?”
Drew took a chair at the kitchen table as I pulled the coffee maker forward on the counter.
“I came to check on Jenna. How’s she doing this morning?”
“I haven’t seen either girl yet today. I was about to go wake them when you arrived.” I measured the coffee, filled the well with water, and turned on the machine. “Toast?”
Before he could answer, Chloe and Jenna stumbled into the kitchen. They wore shorts, knit tops, and sleepy faces.
Drew stood immediately and pulled Jenna into a hug. “How are you doing, sweetheart?”
She shrugged. “Okay, I guess. Is she still here?”
Drew nodded. “I can’t just kick her out on the street.”
Jenna made a face, though she didn’t contradict him. “I’ll come home when she leaves.”
Drew looked so sad my heart broke for him. “Jenna, it’s your house, not Ruthie’s.”
“Yeah, well, try and tell her that.”
“Can’t you just make her leave, Mr. Canfield?” Chloe asked. “I mean, you’re not married anymore or anything.”
I caught my daughter’s eye and shook my head. This situation was one Drew and Jenna and Ruthie had to resolve, not Chloe or me.
Drew, bless him, didn’t seem to take Chloe’s comment as butting in. “I will tell her to go, but someone she cared for was just killed. Right now she’s in mourning.”
Jenna snorted. “Until the next guy comes along.”
Drew winced. “Jenna, she’s still your mother, even if she is difficult.”
“Difficult doesn’t begin to cover it, Dad.”
Jenna tried to act like she didn’t care, but her hurt and yearning were stamped on her face. I knew how Mom’s indifference had hurt me through the years, but I couldn’t begin to imagine Jenna’s hurt.
“She doesn’t like me.” The girl’s voice broke. “And I don’t much like her.” The last was said with defiance.
It was time to redirect the conversation. It was clearly going nowhere good, and Drew wouldn’t want to air his family problems in front of us. “Sit down, girls, and
tell me what you want for breakfast.” I was Mary Poppins, all good cheer and a spoonful of sugar.
“Toast or English muffins,” Jenna said. “And orange juice if you have any.”
“Me too.” Chloe looked through the sliding door. “Can we eat outside?”
“Sure. Why not?” I poured the coffee into two mugs for Drew and me. When the toast popped, I buttered it. Chloe opened the slider, and we all followed Princess into the backyard, where we took seats around the table on the patio. Princess raced to the back of the yard for her daily bath in the koi pool. When she started to scrabble out, I sent a disgruntled Chloe to save the edges of the pond.
“One of these days she’s going to step on one of those fish,” she grumbled as she resumed her seat. “And you’re going to lose all your inheritance.”
“I don’t think the kois’ lives are a condition of the will.” I put my empty coffee mug on the table and wished all I had to do today was sit here and enjoy the lovely garden. “I have to take that jewelry to Pierce’s today. Do you girls want to come with me? Chloe, you can show Jenna where you live.”
Chloe lost a bit of her morning grouch. “Want to come, Jenna?”
“Sure.”
“We’ll leave as soon as you’re finished eating.” I turned to Drew. “Is it all right if Jenna comes with us today?”
Jenna turned to her father. “Please, Dad.”
He nodded. “Sure. I don’t see any reason why not.”
“All right!” Chloe abandoned her dirty dishes and raced up to her aerie, Jenna on her heels.
Drew watched them go. “Thanks, Libby. She needs something to distract her until I can figure out what to do with Ruthie.”
Ruthie. “Look, I know it’s none of my business, but can’t you say something to her about the way she treats Jenna? She’s breaking the kid’s heart.”
“Don’t you think I have?” He put his hand to his forehead and rubbed like a massive headache was brewing and it wasn’t something that aspirin or ibuprofen would touch. He sighed. “She’s a master at ignoring what she doesn’t want to hear, and I don’t feel right just putting her things on the front step and locking the door.”
“She was your wife. You feel responsible for her, for caring for her.” I couldn’t help wondering if, even after all the trouble she’d been, he still loved her. The thought made me sad.
“I feel lots of things for Ruthie, and I guess responsible is one of them. So is anger. And distress and sorrow and frustration. I even feel this weird sort of love, like you would for someone way less fortunate. The woman is, after all, ill.” He was silent for a moment. “Sometimes I even feel hate.”
I stared at Drew, shocked. Not that his emotions surprised me; they seemed what anyone facing such a hard and unsolvable situation would feel. It was the fact that he actually spoke his feelings out loud that amazed me. So very un-guylike, at least in my limited experience.
He shook his head as if surprised himself. “I’m sorry. I never say things like that.”
“Well, it was probably good for you, and as your fiancée for a day, the least I can do is listen.”
He gave a quick smile in recognition of my attempt to lighten the mood, but he wasn’t finished unburdening himself yet.
“She actually asked me to move Jenna’s things out of that wonderful third-floor room so she could have it, like she was planning to move in long term. I lost my temper on that one. ‘Are you nuts? You don’t live here. She does!’ “He ran a hand through his hair. “She just looked at me and cried, then went back into the little bedroom on the second floor and shut the door.”
“She’s trying to make you feel guilty.”
“She’s succeeding. And I was planning on working at home today.” He shuddered.
Poor guy. Talk about a rock and a hard place. “Want to come to New Jersey with Chloe and Jenna and me?” I knew it wasn’t much, but it was all I had to offer.
His face lit up like a kid given a new Webkinz. “Can I? You have no idea what a reprieve that would be.”
I rinsed the dishes and stacked them in the dishwasher. The girls clamored downstairs, Chloe with the shoebox under her arm.
“Dad, you should see the beautiful pins and stuff in this box.” Jenna pulled the lid off the box and picked out the little box with the dog in it. “I got to wear this one.” She held it out for Drew to see. “It’s worth three thousand dollars.”
Drew looked skeptical.
“Tell him, Ms. Keating,” Jenna said.
“It is and she did,” I confirmed as the girls showed him more of the jewelry. “I got the pieces at an estate sale Saturday morning. Surprisingly valuable stuff. We’re taking it to the jeweler Madge and I use, and he’s going to keep it in his safe for us until we sell it.”
It was a good thing Drew was impressed with the jewelry, because my van had the opposite effect. He took one look and said, “Uh, why don’t I drive?” He pointed to a nifty red Honda CR-V.
I was content to let him drive. Maneuvering in the city made me nervous. Everyone but me seemed to know where they were going, and they believed in getting there as quickly as they could by squeezing through spaces barely big enough for a baby stroller. And there were the issues of one-way streets and signs too small to read until you were on top of them and then it was too late to get in the appropriate lane or make the correct turn. I followed him happily to his car.
“Let me pay for the gas and bridge tolls,” I said.
“Forget it. You’re saving me from a day of agony.” He pushed the unlock button on the car key, and the doors clicked and the lights flashed. The girls climbed in the backseat, and I took the passenger seat.
Drew had just thrown the car into reverse when there was a loud thump against the side of the car, followed by several more. My first thought was that we’d hit something, but we hadn’t moved. Then Ruthie’s angry face appeared beside Drew.
“You knew!” she screamed at him. “You knew! And you didn’t say a thing!”
Drew lowered the window. “Ruthie, what’s wrong?”
“You knew! You were there!”
“Where?”
Then she saw me. “And you!” She pointed at me.
I drew back against the passenger door. “Me what?”
“He was killed at your house! I bet you’re the one who killed him!” She was so distressed she could hardly get the words out.
Drew put it together before I did. “The man on Libby’s doorstep was Mick?”
“What?” I squeaked. This was taking coincidence too far.
“And now I know why you seem so familiar.” Ruthie’s look was full of venom. “You hang around with Mick’s guy, Luke, in Atlantic City.” She turned to Drew. “Did you know that your good little Christian fiancée works for a casino and has a boyfriend on the side?” Spite curdled the words.
“Not Libby,” Drew said with amazing calm. “That’s her sister, Tori.”
“Right.” Clearly Ruthie didn’t believe him. “What is she, an identical twin or something?”
“She is.”
His quiet, steady answer merely slowed Ruthie, and only for a couple of seconds. In that tiny break, I glanced into the backseat. Chloe and Jenna sat transfixed, staring at Ruthie. Jenna had tears coursing down her cheeks.
“Well, twin or not, she’s probably a murderer!”
I sputtered in angry disbelief. It was bad enough being the daughter of a crooked cop. I wasn’t going to be called a murderer too. “I had nothing to do with his death! I just found him. And I never saw him before in my life.”
Ruthie grabbed the car door with both hands and leaned in, forcing Drew to pull back. “That’s what you say,” she spit out. “But I bet the cops know better.”
Drew put a hand over Ruthie’s. “Stop it.” Again his voice was steady and calm. “You mustn’t make unfounded accusations like that.”
She pulled away from him like he’d burned her. “I should have known you’d side with her. No one ever sides wi
th me.” Just like that the anger was gone and she began to weep.
By now Jenna was sobbing, her hand over her mouth, as if she was trying to hold the pain in. Chloe had her arm around Jenna’s shaking shoulders.
“We have to go, Ruthie.” Drew reached into his pocket and pulled out his house key. He handed it to her. “Go back to the house and sleep. You’ll feel better if you do. We’ll talk more when I get back.”
Hot fury replaced the tears. “That’s right! Run away! You’re a coward! And make her get rid of that blond streak. It looks stupid.”
Without a word Drew raised the window. Ruthie held on until the last second when it was let go or get her fingers pinched. Fixing his eyes on the rearview mirror, Drew backed out of his parking space. His lips were pressed together, and the nerve in his jaw was jumping.
My heart wept for him. He had had to deal with Ruthie’s uncertain and sometimes bizarre behavior for years. How did he do it? How did he keep his temper?
And poor Ruthie. Much as she made me angry, she also made me sad. She didn’t seem to realize that her belligerence and her demands would force him to choose between her and Jenna. He couldn’t care for both as long as Ruthie behaved as she did.
He’d choose his child over his wife, I knew, but he’d try and placate Ruthie too. Couldn’t be done, and the sooner he let Jenna know she was his priority, the better.
Her weeping was the only sound in the car. I reached back and put what I hoped was a comforting hand on her knee. She didn’t acknowledge me, but she didn’t pull away, so I left it there. I wished I felt free to do the same thing for Drew. He could use some comforting too.
It wasn’t until we had crossed the Walt Whitman Bridge into New Jersey that Drew pulled into a strip mall on the Black Horse Pike and parked. Without a word he climbed out of the car, opened the back door, and pulled Jenna into his arms.
“Shh, baby,” he murmured as he rocked her. “Shh. It’ll be all right.”
Chloe and I looked at each other, and she was crying too, not that I blamed her. I saw in her face that she knew Drew’s comforting “It’ll be all right” wasn’t going to be that easy and maybe not ever be true.