by Beth Andrews
“You knew Aunt Val was leaving her husband and daughters and you didn’t say anything?” Anthony asked incredulously.
“I couldn’t, I was too afraid of my secret coming out so I paid them. All these years I thought he and Val had done what they’d set out to do—start new lives with new identities. When Val’s remains were found, I was certain Dale killed her and took the money, but I had no proof and couldn’t admit what I knew without incriminating myself. I was selfish and wrong. And when Dale returned to Mystic Point two months ago, he wanted more money to keep my secret. I told him no. I knew I had to come clean.”
“But you didn’t,” Erin said.
“Until now.” The back of Anthony’s neck itched with apprehension. “You’re telling us now. Why?”
“Dale spoke with Nora,” Ken said. Something in his tone, in the way he seemed to have aged ten years, warned Anthony what his father was about to tell him would destroy them all. “He told her about the affair. I had no idea.” Ken gazed beseechingly at him. “You have to believe me, I had no idea…”
Why would Dale talk to Nora unless… Anthony slowly got to his feet, a sick feeling in his stomach. “You didn’t know what?”
But his father hung his head, his shoulders shaking.
“When did you sleep with Aunt Val?” Anthony slammed his hands onto the table causing his mother and sister to jump. “When? How long ago?”
“Twenty-seven years ago.” Ken raised his head, and for the first time that Anthony could remember, he saw his father cry. “I’m Nora’s father.”
Everything inside Anthony froze. His father, the man he’d trusted, had looked up to and practically worshipped was nothing but a liar and a cheat. Ken had taught him right from wrong, had lectured Anthony his entire life about honesty and integrity and taking responsibility for his own actions. But it was all bullshit.
And for that, Anthony would never forgive him.
CHAPTER TEN
“YOU SHOWING UP when I’m finishing work is becoming a habit,” Tori said Friday as she opened the café’s door to find Walker on the other side.
She was less than thrilled to have him show up at the end of a double shift, one that had been nothing but torture. Thank God it was late enough that everyone else had gone home.
“A good habit or bad one?” Walker asked in that way that told her he didn’t really care which one it was. He was there for a reason and what she thought or felt didn’t concern him.
“I haven’t decided yet. I need more time to make a…well-informed decision.” She knew her flirtatious tone would bug him. Good. He bugged her, kept her guessing so why shouldn’t she give him a little payback for it? For not being like other men?
That seemed to give him pause and Tori knew that even though he was the one who’d come to her, he was thinking everything through, his thoughts and actions. Wondering if he’d made a mistake by showing up there.
She could respect that about him. She liked to think things through, too. Liked weighing her options before making any decision.
“This is the closest I can get to a homemade meal,” Walker said, peering over the top of her head at the dining room. Most of the chairs had been set on top of tables so the cleaning crew could mop the floors.
“Well, homemade meals are hard to come by, especially this late. It’s a shame we’re closed.”
“Sign on the door says you’re open until ten.”
“Kitchen closes at nine and when all the customers are gone, we shut— Hey,” she said when he brushed past her, forcing her to step back.
Tori told herself she didn’t care one way or the other what he did; he could go or he could stay. She was still in control.
She held the door open. “Look, the past few days have been really crappy.” She’d tried to ignore the gossip, the knowing looks she’d received from customers, had pretended it hadn’t bothered her when her coworkers suddenly stopped talking whenever she approached them. “And I’m not in the best of moods,” she continued, gesturing for him to walk his sexy ass right back out the door again, “so maybe you could be a nice guy, just this once, and not give me a hard time.”
“I hadn’t realized it was so late.” He frowned, looked around again. “I was working. Lost track of time.”
She made a tsking sound. “Luckily the fast food places are open late.”
“I’ve had my fill of fast food.”
Not her problem, she told herself as she let the door shut. She set another chair onto a table. She was tired. Irritable. She didn’t want company, but wasn’t sure she could handle being alone. Had never liked being alone, had always wanted to be surrounded by people. Unlike Layne who’d needed that time and space with her own thoughts.
Tori was afraid she wouldn’t like what she found if she dug too deep into her psyche, if she delved too far into her soul, into what she really was inside.
But Walker was watching her in that steady, patient way that made her feel keyed up and on edge and out of control. As if he held some power over her when it should be the other way around.
“You here alone?” he asked, which, coming from any other guy, she would’ve taken as a pickup line or, worse, aggression. But she wasn’t scared of Walker. Not physically, anyway.
“I told Celeste I’d close up.”
“I thought you worked days.”
What was with all the questions? The man really was an interrogator, always probing, trying to see inside people’s heads. “Brandon’s at his father’s so I offered to work tonight to give Celeste a break.”
Celeste deserved it. She’d been rock solid through it all, there for Tim after Ken had confessed his sin to his younger brother. An intermediary the night Tori and her sisters gathered with their father at Layne’s house—the home they grew up in—for dinner.
Tori’s throat tightened just thinking about it. The beginning of the evening had been tense and awkward with the huge, unspoken question hanging over all of them.
How would Tim treat Nora, his youngest, his joy, now that he knew she wasn’t his biological child?
Tori had been certain he’d turn his back on her, had been ready to jump to her sister’s aid, to help her through her heartbreak. But their father had taken a hold of Nora’s hands and, in front of everyone, had looked into Nora’s eyes and told her in no uncertain terms that she was his daughter. His. Always.
Nora had said only one word: Daddy. Then she’d thrown her arms around Tim’s neck and as they’d embraced, something inside Tori had warmed. She’d been relieved, sure, but more than that she’d been proud. For the first time she’d been proud to have such a good man for a father.
For the first time, she’d started to forgive him for being so much less than perfect.
The truth may set you free but from Tori’s perspective, it usually hurt first. Enough that she would rather avoid it and stick with subterfuge.
But they were surviving it. Their family was cracked, but they weren’t broken. Not yet.
“What are you doing?” Tori asked when Walker picked up a chair and set it on a table.
“Helping you.”
“Why?” He wanted something from her and, unlike most men, it wasn’t her body. Probably was going to try to use his quick mind to trick her into answering more of his questions about her family.
“Because it’s late,” he said as if she’d scrubbed her brain with bleach, “and you’re alone.”
“You want something from me,” she said. “Just tell me what it is so I can get on with my life.”
“Why do you think I want something from you?”
She laughed. “Honey, all men want something from me, the same something.”
“You don’t trust anyone, do you?” he asked softly.
Tori cocked her hip to the side. “Let’s see… My father spent more time on the sea than with his own kids. My mom cheated on her husband—once with her brother-in-law—and left us to start some grand new life. My uncle, a pillar of town, slept with his brot
her’s wife and got her pregnant and paid her and her other lover off. My own sisters think I’m incapable of anything other than waiting tables and flirting.” She slammed a chair down. “Why on earth wouldn’t I trust people?”
She didn’t need help. Didn’t want it. Didn’t want to count on someone else to be there for her because that made her weak, left her vulnerable to the whims and feelings of others.
It was too risky.
“You want something to eat?” she snapped, knowing it would be the fastest, easiest way to get rid of him. “Fine. But you’ll eat what I cook so don’t even think of placing an order from the menu.”
“Deal,” he said so quickly she blinked.
Guess the man was really hungry.
“Come on,” she said, grumpy and tired. Her feet hurt. Her legs and back ached. All she wanted was to go home and soak in a nice, hot, scented tub where she could plan what to do now that Greg was marrying someone else. That her son didn’t want to be with her.
Where she could plan her escape.
Not waiting to see if Walker followed, Tori walked across the dining room, pushed open the swinging door that led to the kitchen. She went to the refrigerator and checked the supplies, pulled out the makings for her favorite sandwich.
“Did Brandon get in trouble with his coach for the fight?” Walker asked as he came up beside her.
She almost didn’t answer, but he had helped her kid that day so she bit back her impatience. “Both boys did. They’re each suspended one game and had to run extra laps all week at practice. They’re also both on probation and if they mess up even once, they’re off the team.”
“Tough coach,” Walker said.
“He is but it’s a fair punishment.” She heated the grill and took out two bagels, sliced them.
“Most parents would be upset their darlings got punished,” he said. “My sister Kelly took on the entire school board because my niece got into trouble one day at school and had to stand in the corner.”
Tori added four slices of bacon to the grill. “Brandon has to realize there are consequences to his actions—both good and bad.”
“I agree that’s a good lesson for kids to learn. I think Kelly sees her kids as too close an extension of herself and if they get into trouble or make a mistake, she takes it personally.”
“Yeah, well, that’s hard not to do. Our children are extensions of us and it can be frustrating. Brandon is stubborn, it’s a trait he gets from me and maybe that’s why it bugs me so much.” She flipped the bacon. “He wants to live with his father,” she heard herself admit.
Walker crossed his arms and leaned back. “You share custody now?”
“Sort of. Brandon stays with me during the week and spends most weekends with Greg. He’s getting married.”
“Seems a little young for such a big step.”
For the first time all week, Tori smiled. “Not Brandon. Greg.”
“How do you feel about that?”
She cracked four eggs onto the grill and sprinkled them with salt and pepper. “Well, Dr. Freud, I feel fine about it.” Sort of. “I was the one who wanted the divorce,” she said, knowing she sounded defensive and bitter. “He wants her, that’s fine. But my son should be with me.”
Should want to be with me.
“You’re jealous,” Walker said.
Tori whirled on him, the spatula in her hand. “Jealous? Of Colleen? Have you seen her?”
“I’m not talking about what she looks like. I’m talking about the fact that your son likes her.”
Her hand shook so she lowered it. “I just don’t think Brandon should get his own way just because he’s mad at me for the divorce.”
“Fair enough.”
“Damn right it’s fair enough.”
* * *
SHE WAS HURTING, Walker realized. Tough, cynical Tori Mott was heartbroken over her son.
It made her seem more human. Vulnerable and softer than when she was flirting and trying to get men to fall at her feet. It made her more enticing.
She wanted her son to choose her.
He watched as she assembled his sandwiches—bacon and avocado slices on the bagel topped with two eggs. “Like you said,” Walker told her, feeling inadequate and clumsy in how to address her problems with her son, “Brandon’s a kid. He’s pissed. He’ll get over it.”
She handed him a sandwich and cut the other one in half. “I’ve been telling myself that for a year now and he’s still mad. He gets angrier with me every day.” She swallowed, stared at the food in her hands. “He hates me. My own son hates me. God, when he was little he used to look at me like I was the most important thing in the world. His sun, you know?”
Walker took a bite of his sandwich, swallowed. “Kids grow up. They realize their parents aren’t infallible.”
“I knew that from the time I was little. But when you have a child of your own, you don’t realize how big of a love you’re capable of. I sure didn’t.”
“You were barely a kid yourself.”
“Eighteen, the same age as my mother when she had Layne.” Tori smiled sadly. “I was so scared, had no idea what I was doing or getting myself into. All I knew was that I’d followed my mother’s footsteps—gotten pregnant by a good guy, my high school sweetheart just like she had, got married and dropped out of school. Layne was so angry with me, so disappointed. She’d wanted me to go to college.”
“You sound as if that’s a crazy idea.”
“Of course it is. I’m not known for my brains,” she said with a wink. “Besides, I knew what my future held. Marriage. Maybe another kid or two. My life spent waiting tables right here in this town. I gave up my dreams as soon as I held Brandon for the first time. Looking at him, feeling his warm body, the slight weight of him in my arms, I felt…complete. And I couldn’t understand how my mother never felt the same when she looked at her babies. How she could turn her back on her own children. I vowed that day to be the best mother I could for my son, to give him everything I didn’t have. But it wasn’t enough.”
“If you knew how upset Brandon would be by the divorce, why did you go through with it?” he couldn’t help but ask. Walker knew he was skating on thin ice, being alone with her again, the setting somehow intimate despite the size of the kitchen. Her cooking for him, talking to him so openly, was a problem.
One he had to be wary of.
“Part of your investigation?” she asked with one of those unreadable looks.
“Just curious.” More curious about her than he had any right to be. “Your ex-husband seems like a decent guy.”
“That aptly describes him. Greg is decent and kind. He was the captain of the football team and I was head cheerleader. We were completely cliché and totally clueless about life. He loved me and I…I wanted desperately for someone to love me more than anything. And he did. No matter what I threw at him, no matter what kind of drama I stirred up or fights or arguments I started, no matter how much I flirted with his buddies he was always there. Steady, you know?”
“Sounds like most high school relationships.”
“I was a brat. Worse than that, I was a bitch. Selfish and vain. I outgrew it, for the most part. Becoming responsible for someone else forces you to grow up, to see outside yourself. Or it should. But a year ago, as we were in bed, Greg leaned over and kissed me good-night—like he did every night—and told me he loved me. Like he had every night.” Using the spatula, she scraped the food from the grill, her movements rougher than Walker thought they should be for the job at hand.
She lifted her head, met Walker’s eyes. “I couldn’t say it back. I wanted to, but it wouldn’t come out and I realized that for all those years, I’d been lying—to Greg and Brandon and to myself. I cared about Greg, I considered him my best friend but I didn’t love him the way he deserved. The way he loved me. And it wasn’t fair to any of us. I told him I wanted a trial separation. He didn’t argue, didn’t fight, just agreed. The next day we told Brandon together and Greg mo
ved out.”
“And now you’re single, and men all throughout town are thanking God.”
Tori grinned. “Now you’re catching on. So many men, so little time.”
But he didn’t buy it. Not like he used to. There was more to her than she let on, more than a need for adoration, for attention. She loved her son and her sisters, that much was clear. She put on an act, put up a front to protect herself but from what?
“Now that your stomach’s full, why don’t you hit the road so I can finish up here?”
He needed to do just that, needed to move on. To finish his investigation and get back to his real life. He couldn’t afford to get tied up, to get entangled in the lives of anyone in Mystic Point.
But he wasn’t any closer to finding out who poisoned Dale York than he’d been when he first came to town. Although thanks to the truth about Ken Sullivan’s affair with Val coming to light, his suspect list was growing.
And included many of Tori’s relatives—her father and uncle, her sisters. Not to mention Walker was still investigating Layne and Ross for misconduct.
No, there was no good reason to get involved with Tori, for him to start believing there could be something between them, and a million reasons why he shouldn’t think about her, shouldn’t dream about her.
She was caustic and guarded and fake.
She was beautiful and smart and more caring than even she realized.
Hell.
He edged closer. She didn’t back up, didn’t move closer, just watched him, that coy half smile of hers playing on her lips. “Did you want something, Detective?” she asked, all cocky and confident and challenging.
“Yeah,” he said gruffly, sliding his hand along her neck around to hold her head. Tugged her hair so her head tipped back. Her eyes flashed and widened, her hands went to his chest, lay there, not pushing or pulling, just heating his skin. “I want something.”