by Anne Stuart
“Wouldn’t that be a good thing? I thought you didn’t like it here.”
“I like it here well enough,” she said with a shrug. “And my mom’s really happy. She’s so in love with David that she’s not thinking clearly. She worships the ground he walks on.”
“That doesn’t sound like your mother,” Kristen said doubtfully.
“She does it in her own way,” Sophie muttered. “At least she doesn’t hang on him. But there’s no other reason she would have just thrown everything away and married him. We had a wonderful life when we were traveling. I thought she loved it as much as I did.”
“Maybe she was ready to settle down.”
“I guess. But why did she have to pick David?” She couldn’t keep the dislike out of her voice.
“I still don’t understand why he bothers you so much. I’ve always thought he was pretty cute. Are you sure you’re not doing that jealous thing? Most daughters don’t want to see their mothers remarried. They don’t want to share.”
“She was never married in the first place. And I’d be happy to share her. Just not with David Middleton,” Sophie said firmly.
“And you don’t have any solid reason why you don’t like him?”
“Nope. But as long as my mother thinks I’m happy, I’m going to try not to worry about it. As long as I can keep my distance, I’ll be fine.”
Kristen looked at her admiringly. “You have such a Zenlike calm. How long did you spend in India?”
Sophie laughed. “Three months. I think I get it more from the six months in Nepal. Mom says I was born with an old soul. My mother’s always been impulsive—one of us has to be the calm one. So to get back to your original question, yes, the murder bothers me. Yes, I still mourn Tessa. But flailing around doesn’t help. Okay?”
“Okay,” Kristen said, easygoing. “Wanna come home with me?”
Sophie shook her head. “My mother’s going to need to fuss for a while. I’ll call you later.”
“Good luck, man. You’re going to need it.”
Sophie started toward the door just as the final bell rang. For a moment she was alone, and she closed her eyes, and thought of Tessa, the last time she’d seen her, happy and full of life. And of the photo in the newspaper of her corpse, the one she wasn’t supposed to have seen.
She let the pain dance in her heart for a moment, and then she pushed it away. Her mother was waiting for her, and she had enough to worry about. Plastering a calm smile on her face, she headed out into the early afternoon rain.
Rachel had pulled her Volvo up outside the high school, her fingers drumming on the steering wheel. It had taken all her self-control not to run over to the school and snatch Sophie out of it, but for once she controlled her impulse. The more emotional a fuss she made, the harder it would be for Sophie. Going through Tessa’s disappearance and murder had been horrible enough. It was just nasty that their lives had to brush up against something like that again.
She left the motor running—if she didn’t the windows would fog up and it would take forever for them to clear, and she wanted to grab Sophie and get her home as quickly as possible.
Sophie came out of the redbrick building with Kristen, her pale blond hair barely contained in turtle-shell barrettes. She looked normal enough, and Rachel wondered whether she was imagining the shadows in her eyes.
“Hi, babe,” Rachel said as Sophie slid into the front seat of the car, dumping her books on the floor.
“I know about the murder. How are you doing?”
“Maggie said she’d told you. I wanted to come over but she said you were already asleep.” She still couldn’t rid herself of her guilt.
“You saw Chief Bannister last night? Why did she talk to you?”
“Not to me. To David and his father. And his brother.”
“David’s got a brother?” Sophie looked less than thrilled. “Is he as boring as David?”
“Behave yourself, babe,” Rachel said. “David isn’t boring.”
“You taught me never to lie—you’re setting a bad example. David is very nice but he’s boring as hell. So is his creepy father.” She managed a ghost of her usual grin. “At least I’ve got Kristen and the math program—they’re more than enough to offset two old men. Or is it three? Tell me about my new uncle. Is he the killer? Is that why Chief Bannister was questioning him?”
“God, Sophie!” Rachel shuddered. “Don’t be so ghoulish. No one suspects anyone. It was probably a lovers’ quarrel—that’s the usual reason women are murdered. That’s even what happened with Tessa. She was seeing someone and not telling anyone about it.”
“Except me,” Sophie said, any attempt at light ness vanishing. “She told me about him. I should have said something.”
“I’ve told you a hundred times that it isn’t your fault, angel,” Rachel said firmly. “The man who killed Tessa was some kind of monster. A young girl is no match for someone like that.”
“I would be,” she said in a quiet voice. “I would be now.”
“There are no monsters in Silver Falls.”
“Then who killed that college student?”
“I don’t know, but whoever it is, he must have moved on.”
“If you say so,” Sophie said breezily, but Rachel wasn’t fooled for a moment.
“I wish you’d called me last night.”
“No need, Ma. I told you, I’m fine. So tell me about David’s boring brother. How come we never heard of him before?”
“He’s not boring. It might be better if he was.
He’s the black sheep of the family.”
Sophie immediately brightened. “Cool. Is he staying with us? What’s brought him back home?”
“God, no! I don’t know where he’s staying. As for why he’s back, maybe it’s just bad timing.”
“I wanna meet him. Is he a hottie? Most black sheep are.”
Rachel snorted with laughter. “And just how many black sheep have you known, baby girl?”
“Only in books…But they sound delicious.
Unless he’s an old goat like Stephen Henry.” She shuddered dramatically.
Rachel grinned. “He’s not like your grandfather.”
“Not my grandfather.”
“You’ll probably find Caleb Middleton fascinating. He has that cynical, world-weary air that susceptible females find romantic, and you’ll probably be no exception.”
“Cool,” Sophie said again. “How about you?
Are you susceptible?”
“Hardly. I’m a married woman. Besides, I’ve al ways kept clear of bad boys—I’m too smart and too stubborn for them.”
“I don’t know, I think a bad boy might be just what you need. David’s awfully tame. I know he’s your true love and all that, but don’t you wish you had a little more excitement in your life?”
“I’ve had more than enough excitement to last me. Tame is good in a husband and father.”
“Not my father,” Sophie said. “You’re not going to let him adopt me, right?”
“I promised I’d wait until you were more comfortable with the idea. But you’re happy here, aren’t you, baby? You’re glad we’re not wandering the globe anymore? You like David?” Sophie was the only human being on this earth who could make her feel anxious. She wanted so desperately to make it right for her daughter that she would have done anything, married anyone to give her the normal home life and the opportunities she deserved.
“Of course, Ma,” Sophie said cheerfully. “I’m just yanking your chain. David’s great, and he never tries to boss me around or be too chummy. And even if Stephen Henry’s a pain in the butt he’s nice enough. You did great, Ma. You love David and he adores you. So it’s all good.”
She sounded like she meant it. It would be nice if Sophie took to David the way she’d probably react to Caleb, but the truth of the matter was, David was boring. Good, solid, dependable. Far from perfect—he was a little vain, with just the barest trace of a control freak that he mostly
managed to keep under control.
No, Sophie would find Caleb much more interesting. After all, she was her mother’s daughter.
“Uh…Ma? Don’t you want to get home?”
Rachel jerked. “Sorry, babe. I was just thinking too much. Yeah, let’s go home. I think I need chocolate.”
“Sounds good to me,” Sophie said cheerfully. And only a mother would have recognized the strain beneath her young voice.
By the time they got back to the house the day had turned unseasonably warm, almost muggy, and the omnipresent clouds only magnified the sense of impending doom. The air was thick, and Rachel could practically feel the mold forming on her skin. How did people live like this?
She turned on every light as she walked through the house, making a mental note to go out and buy hundred-watt lightbulbs to replace David’s muted lighting. Sophie headed into the family room at the back of the house to work on her homework. It was as far from David’s library/office as possible in the spread-out house, the only room that had a television, and Sophie had claimed it for her own. Apart from the studio, it was the only room where Rachel really felt comfortable. That would change, of course, once she lived here longer. She’d talk David into brighter colors, more comfortable furniture. In the meantime she’d have to make do with music livening the place up.
She pulled a bottle of water from the fridge, reached over and turned on the radio, loud. David preferred new-age music so bland that it was practically Muzak. Rachel found an oldies station and turned it up full blast. How could bad things be threatening when the Beach Boys were singing “Wouldn’t it Be Nice?”? She could close her eyes and almost imagine she was in the bright Southern California sunshine, Sophie beside her, surrounded by the crash of the waves, the smell of suntan oil and hot dogs. Here she was, thirty years old and she’d never learned to surf. It would take an earthquake to move David from this town where he’d lived his entire life—if she intended to stay married to him then surfing, and any other kind of adventure, would be out of the question.
And what kind of thought was that—if she stayed married? She wasn’t a quitter. She’d made a commitment, a choice for her daughter’s future. She wasn’t going to change her mind and go chasing after lost chances. She’d had plenty of years to follow her heart. It was time to follow her head.
Sure enough, the Beach Boys finished and Aretha came on, singing “Chain of Fools.” Maybe if she listened long enough she’d find the answers to all her problems.
And why the hell did she have problems? She had a daughter she adored, a kind husband, a new life. So she was just the tiniest bit bored. So what? She’d spent most of her life being much too impulsive, grabbing Sophie and heading out for new adventures. It was past time to grow up, do the sensible thing. And she’d done it. She was hardly going to renege now. Besides, she’d always hated whiners—was she becoming one herself?
Neil Diamond was next, and she reached over and turned it off. There was a limit, and Neil Diamond was way past it. She was heading for the refrigerator when the sound of Sophie’s bright voice filtered into the kitchen.
Who could she be talking to? David never came home early, and Rachel had yet to meet anyone in this buttoned-up town who was likely to just drop in unannounced with the possible exception of Maggie, and she was kind of busy right now. The sound of the deep voice, answering her daughter, was enough to send panic lancing through her.
She slammed out of the kitchen, practically skidding into the family room where Sophie sat on the floor, legs crossed, her books scattered around her, her laptop spread out on the coffee table as she carried on an easy conversation with Caleb Middleton.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded, not caring how she sounded.
Caleb was lounging in a chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him, and he simply looked up at her. “Meeting my niece. You didn’t tell me what a charming daughter you have.”
“In the kitchen. Now.” She could barely keep the anger out of her voice.
“Ma!” Sophie protested. “We were having a good time.”
Caleb got to his feet in a leisurely manner de signed to infuriate her. “We’ll continue our conversation later, Sophie.”
“The hell you will,” Rachel muttered, herding him into the kitchen. She switched on the radio again so Sophie couldn’t overhear her. “I want you to stay away from my daughter.”
He cocked his head, looking at her quizzically.
“Why would you think I’d be any particular danger to her?” he said, entirely reasonable. “She’s too young for me. How old are you?”
“Stop that!”
“Stop what?” He leaned back against the counter, watching her with that unsettling stillness.
“What’s got you so wound up?
“There’s a murderer on the loose—why shouldn’t I be wound up?”
“What’s that got to do with me?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you said it did,” she snapped.
“When did I say that?”
“Last night. In your father’s kitchen.”
“I was trying to bait you. Look at it this way—
I’d only just arrived in town. I wasn’t here long enough to find someone annoying to murder. Time, however, has fixed that.” His look at her was pointed.
“That supposed to make me nervous?”
“You don’t strike me as someone who’s easily frightened.”
“You’re right. You come to town and a young woman dies. I find that an uncomfortable coincidence.”
“Maybe it’s no coincidence,” he said, his voice expressionless.
She stared at him. “What do you mean by that?”
“Haven’t you heard about me, Rachel? I’m the bad seed of Silver Falls. The kind of kid who boosted cars and stole my brother’s girlfriends. The kind of kid who killed his mother and put his father in a wheelchair.”
She wasn’t going to panic. “Exactly how much of that is true?”
He looked at her. “Some of it. It’ll be up to you to figure out what’s what. In the meantime, you need to be careful. Things are going to get worse before they get better. Maybe you should pack Sophie up, go on a little vacation until things settle down.”
“Things aren’t unsettled, and we’re not going anywhere,” she said, trying to hide how tempting that was. “Sophie and I are both very happy here. She loves the school, loves her new life. The math program here is extraordinary, and she’s a gifted child.”
“There are other programs. Tell me, does she love my brother? David has never been the paternal type.”
“They get along very well. Sophie doesn’t need a father, she simply needs a structured, ordinary life and a chance to use her brain. I’ve dragged her all around the world, never gave her a chance to have a normal life, a normal home. She’s got that now and I’m not about to throw it away on a whim.”
“Normal home? Honey, you struck out on that one,” he drawled. “And what about you? You don’t strike me as a structured, ordinary woman.”
“I can be,” she said firmly. “I can be anything my daughter needs me to be.”
“How about gone?”
“Why are you trying to get rid of us?”
He looked at her for a long moment, his deep brown eyes shadowed. And then he blinked. “Just a momentary lapse on my part, sweetheart. People will tell you I seldom do the right thing—it goes against my nature. Stay here if you want. Just keep an eye on your daughter.”
“I always do. Which is why I don’t want you anywhere near her.”
“Trust me, I’m the least of your worries. I could tell you something interesting about Jessica Barrowman.”
“Who’s Jessica Barrowman?”
“The murder victim.” His voice was flat.
“I thought you hadn’t been here long enough to know her?”
“I’m a fast learner,” he said. “I’ve been here long enough to find out a few things about the murder. Jessica
Barrowman was young, thin, with long straight blond hair down her back. Just like your daughter. You might consider getting Sophie a haircut and a perm.”
Her stomach lurched in sudden panic. “You son of a bitch—”
He caught her arm as she charged him, spinning her around until it was trapped behind her back. Their bodies were pressed together for a long, endless moment as they looked at each other, the tension crackling between the two of them.
Rachel didn’t move. His grip on her arm was like iron, his body was warm and hard against hers, and she could feel his heart beating, fast. Her own heart was racing—with fury, she told herself. His grip loosened on her arm, releasing her, but she didn’t move, and neither did he.
Why now, she thought. Why, after all this time, did this man have to show up now? Why couldn’t she have met him five years ago and gotten him out of her system then, when she was free to do so? Why did he have to appear now, with a hidden agenda, and she couldn’t decide whether she wanted to shove him away or move closer, so close that they could practically melt together, so close that she could close her eyes and their breathing would be perfectly in sync, so close her eyes and his mouth would cover hers and she’d kiss him back and realize it wasn’t worth the trouble, it never was.
But why did it have to be now that she was un-characteristically tempted?
She stepped back, and he let her go without any show of reluctance. “Does my brother know you’re not happy?”
“I’m perfectly happy in my marriage,” she said, ignoring the debacle in her bed last night.
“Are you?” He looked past her, his eyes narrowing for a moment, and then suddenly he moved closer. “I could change your mind…”
David walked into the kitchen, just as Caleb reached for her, and she waited for his explosion.
None came. “What are you doing here, Caleb?” David said, sounding only slightly distracted.
Caleb’s smile was easy, just barely taunting. “It’s been a long time. I wanted to see what you were up to.”