by Brenda Novak
She hoped she’d be able to accomplish that.
Whenever Landon got home from work, he’d yell, “Rock? I’m home!” But this time he didn’t call her name, as he’d done so many times over the years.
She moved to the entrance of the kitchen, and he stopped in midstride the second he saw her.
“Hey,” he said, standing awkwardly in the living room as if he didn’t know what to do with himself.
She wished he’d close the distance between them and pull her into his arms, tell her he was sorry and that he loved her. He’d been acting so strange, so aloof the past few weeks—even before he’d gone to Fairham.
But he didn’t reassure her, which was completely unlike him. They’d had so few arguments over the years, hardly any that were serious and none that had lasted. And if they did have an argument, he was generally the one who made it possible for her to put it behind them. “Hey,” she responded.
He glanced toward the hallway. “Where’re the kids?”
“Zac’s at Jeffrey’s. Chloe’s at Amy’s.”
With a nod, he shoved his hands in his pockets and shifted from one foot to the other. “Any word from Brooklyn?”
Their oldest daughter had been texting her. “Yes. She has a big dance tonight.”
“She’s sure enjoying college.”
“So did we,” Rocki said. “Remember?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “I remember.”
“Where’ve you been?” she asked.
“I drove down to New Orleans.”
“New Orleans?”
“Yeah.”
Anxiety left her stomach churning. “What was in New Orleans that you wanted to see or do—alone?”
His big shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I just needed to get away, do some thinking.”
“So you stayed at a motel?”
“A casino.”
When she moved closer to him, she could smell cigarette smoke. That made her believe he had gone to the casino, since he’d never smoked himself. “You were up all night gambling?”
“I did a little gambling, yeah.”
The defensiveness that crept into his voice put her on edge, too. “And?”
“And I lost a few hundred bucks.”
That should help their financial situation, she thought sarcastically, but managed to bite back the words. He looked hungover, so she assumed he’d been drinking and gambling. “I wasn’t asking about your losses. I was wondering...what you had to decide.”
“We’re in trouble with the businesses, Rock. I have to do something about it or we’re going to lose them both, and our house.”
“That’s why you went to Fairham and then lied about it? You thought my mother was the answer to those problems?”
“Yes! I told you that already!” he said, but then his eyes skittered away from her.
That anger, when he’d never been an angry man—and the fact that he wouldn’t look at her—only made Rocki feel worse.
Somehow she swallowed around the lump in her throat. “And were you trying to protect me last night when you walked out and didn’t come home?”
He rubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t want to talk about last night. I don’t even want to think about it. I really don’t understand why asking your mother for a loan was such a big deal. I thought she had a lot of money and wouldn’t mind.”
But he had too much pride to ask anyone for money. She’d never known him to do it in the past. So why would he embarrass himself—and her—by going to her mother? And without even speaking to her about it? This was nothing like the man she’d married. “It wasn’t the money that was the problem,” she said. “It was the lie.”
“You’ve told me that. A dozen times, at least.”
“So why can’t you understand it?”
“I understand. I’m just done fighting about it. Why can’t we forget about Fairham and your mother and move on?”
“Forget about my mother? She just died—or was killed. You’re acting so strange! Is there something else?” she asked. “Something I don’t know?”
His lip curled with impatience. “Will you quit asking me that?”
“I can’t! There’s a barrier between us. I don’t understand what it is, but it’s tearing us apart. I mean...the argument we had before you left hardly seemed like sufficient grounds for you to walk out on me. And...and to stay gone so long, without even a call to let me know where you were or when you’d be home.”
“I needed a break, okay? It’s not like I’m gone very often, not unless I have work that keeps me away. Besides, you don’t need to monitor my actions. I’m not a kid.”
“Then why don’t you stop acting like one?” she said quietly and hurried down the hall to the bedroom, where she closed the door because she could no longer hold back the tears.
* * *
As Keith drove Nancy home, he hated to think about what Rocki and her children might face in the near future. He didn’t want to tell Harper Underwood what Nancy had told him—didn’t want to tell anyone. His first instinct was to protect those who were still living. But he couldn’t let the person who killed his mother get away with it, even if that person was a member of the family. Who could say what Landon might do next—who he might get involved with, what he might do to Rocki if she ever became a nuisance to him.
“Are you okay?” Nancy asked as he pulled into her drive.
“I’m fine. Just worried about Rocki.”
Her troubled expression suggested she shared his concern. She’d always been empathetic, probably too empathetic for her own good. That was how she’d gotten emotionally involved with him during that period of time when most other people were steering clear.
“Even if Landon and your mother were having an affair, it doesn’t mean he killed her,” she said.
“He was one of the last people to see her alive.” Funny how quickly one’s perspective could change. He’d really liked Landon, thought he was an impressive husband and father. And now he was wondering if Landon could be a murderer...
“Still, maybe you should give him the benefit of the doubt, at least until the police come up with some hard evidence. Everything we’ve talked about is circumstantial.”
“Someone killed her,” he said.
“We don’t even know that for sure—and we certainly don’t know it was Landon.”
He put the transmission in Park so he could get out, but she shook her head. “There’s no need to walk me to the door.”
She started to get out on her own, but he caught her by the chin and turned her face toward him. “Fine. Then I’ll take my kiss here.”
“What kiss—”
Eager to feel the comfort he remembered so well, he leaned forward and covered her mouth with his.
She didn’t stop him. She resisted only when he ran his tongue along her lips. He was hoping she’d part them, let him take the kiss deeper, but she didn’t.
Disappointed, he pulled away, but then her hand slipped into his hair, tugging him back to her, and her tongue met his in a series of thrusts and parries that instantly made him hard.
She tasted exactly as he remembered. He wished he could caress the soft skin under her shirt, but he knew he’d be a fool to push her too far. A kiss was a good start, especially a kiss like this one that spoke of so much pent-up desire.
“Come over tonight,” he said.
She looked as dazed as he felt. Obviously, the moment that kiss had gotten away from them had surprised her, too.
“Come on,” he pressed. “You’re all I can think about.”
She seemed uncertain, as if she believed only an idiot would fall for that line.
“It’s true,” he said. “If you want to be with me as badly as I want to be with you, why waste the
time we’ve got left? I won’t be on Fairham very long.” He remembered telling Harper the same thing—for very different reasons.
“We’ll see,” she said and got out of the car.
16
SINCE LANDON HAD driven over to the store to relieve his nephew, who wanted to attend a going-away party for a friend, Rocki was once again alone. She embraced the silence, the solitude and relief from the tension that’d been humming through the house like electricity while he was there. Her home was her refuge, where she’d felt happy and safe for so many years.
That wasn’t going to change, she promised herself. They’d figure out how to get on top of their financial difficulties. And just because her husband had lied to her, that didn’t mean he wasn’t the same person he’d always been or that he didn’t love her anymore. She knew Landon—better than anyone else did. She’d been with him since she was sixteen. Those twenty-seven years had to count for something, didn’t they?
That was what she’d been telling herself since the Christmas party, when he’d started acting so strange...
Her phone dinged as she received a text from her oldest daughter, who was at Louisiana State University.
What are you doing?
Just housework, she wrote back. I thought you had a dance tonight.
I do, but it hasn’t started yet, and I was just wondering how you were feeling about Grandma Josephine. You haven’t said much lately.
I’m handling it okay. It was just everything else that was getting to her, but she wasn’t about to draw her daughter into her pain. What about you? How are you feeling about your grandmother’s death?
Fine. I really didn’t spend much time with her. It’s not like it was my other grandma. That probably sounds harsh, but you know what I mean.
I do. You grew up with your father’s mother. I think it’s more the circumstances surrounding Josephine’s death that are hard for me.
I understand. Have you heard anything new?
No, not yet.
Should I come home? Be with you until the funeral?
What about your classes?
I’ll muddle through, study at home.
No. I appreciate the offer. But there’s no need for you to miss too much school. Let’s wait until we know when the funeral is before you take off.
Okay. Have to go. My ride’s here for the dance.
Have fun!
How do I look?
Despite the pain she was feeling, Rocki couldn’t help smiling at the selfie Brooklyn sent her. Thank goodness Brooklyn wasn’t around to see what was going on.
Gorgeous, as usual. Love the boots!
Rocki felt her smile fade as she carried her phone into the bedroom. She shut the door, although there was no one around to hear, and stared down at her list of contacts. It was time to call Maisey back, time to tell her sister that she stood behind her husband—and that she expected her and Keith to do the same. So what if they hadn’t grown up together? They’d built a relationship over the past five years that shouldn’t allow for this kind of suspicion.
Before she could make that call, however, another text popped onto her screen.
Mom? Can I skateboard for a little longer?
Relieved that her son was happy at his friend’s, and that she’d have more time to herself, she replied that he could before returning to Maisey’s number on her contacts list.
“I’m so glad you called,” Maisey said the moment she answered. “Are you okay? I’ve been worried about you.”
Those damn tears threatened to well up again. Rocki was so confused, so uncertain. She couldn’t remember a time, except maybe in the weeks following her abduction, when she’d felt so bewildered.
Swallowing hard, Rocki kept her voice as steady as possible when she responded. “I’m fine. I’ve been...busy with the family.”
“I didn’t want you to think that Keith and I were accusing Landon of anything. We were just surprised that...that he’d been to Coldiron House and didn’t stop by to see me and Rafe and the kids. That’s all.”
“I understand. But he wasn’t there long enough. He went to see Mom, to work out a loan. A proper loan, with interest.” That was what he’d said, anyway. And she wanted to believe it.
No, she did believe it.
“Completely understandable. Like I said, we were a little surprised, that’s all.”
“I hope that’s true, Maisey—that you don’t believe he could hurt anyone.”
“Of course he couldn’t! Besides, maybe no one hurt Mom. The autopsy hasn’t even been done. Suicide is still a possibility.”
Rocki prayed the autopsy would indicate suicide. If not, there’d be trouble. She could feel it coming, feel everything crumbling, everything she’d been trying to shore up since that damn Christmas party at Coldiron House... Why had they even gone? They hadn’t really had the money. They should’ve stayed home. “You said the autopsy’s tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah. Nine in the morning.”
Rocki couldn’t wait for that to be over. If the pathologist ruled Josephine’s death a suicide, maybe things would start to get better. Her marriage couldn’t survive a lengthy police investigation, not with the strain that currently existed between her and Landon—and the doubts. Those sickening doubts had been eating her alive for weeks, well before the argument that had sent him to New Orleans. “You told me Mom was facing bankruptcy. Losing her money, her holdings. That would’ve been catastrophic for her.”
“I agree,” Maisey said. “But why would she throw such an elaborate Christmas party if she was stressed and worried about money? That party had to cost several thousand dollars.”
“Because she did it every year. Old habits die hard. Perhaps she justified spending the money by telling herself she was keeping up with tradition. And knowing her, she probably didn’t want anyone to realize she was in trouble.”
“I could see that. Mom was all about appearances. But if she was distraught enough to take her own life, don’t you think someone would’ve noticed some sign of her distress? Rafe and I had dinner with her on Friday night—and she was fine, wasn’t behaving any differently.”
“She didn’t seem to be uptight at the Christmas party, either,” Rocki admitted. On the contrary, she’d been flirting with almost every man in the house, including Landon. As far as Rocki was concerned, Josephine’s behavior had been embarrassing, if not downright disgusting. But Josephine had always had a great need to be admired. The fact that Landon had seemed to enjoy her attention didn’t mean anything. He’d gone back to Coldiron House to get a loan, as he said, and not for any other reason.
She hoped. God, did she hope...
“I wish we could’ve been there,” Maisey said.
Laney’s school play had been the same night, but their two families had gotten together the following morning. “Has anyone told Hugh Pointer that she’s dead?” Rocki asked.
“Chief Underwood did. She called him right away.”
“Could he have had anything to do with it?”
“No. He was in Australia.”
“He could still be responsible. Don’t they always look at the love interest first?”
“Hugh has an airtight alibi.”
“What about his wife?” If she knew about the affair, she could easily want to kill Josephine...
“She has no clue that he was cheating.”
“Are you sure?”
“That’s what he said. And since the coroner believes that Mom killed herself, Chief Underwood hasn’t pushed it. She doesn’t see the need to destroy more lives. But I suspect Lana Pointer will find out what her husband’s been up to if the autopsy proves otherwise. Chief Underwood will definitely be calling her then, since she’ll have to investigate anyone who could possibly be involved.”
; Desperate to establish a plausible scenario that wasn’t fraught with danger to her own family, Rocki tightened her grip on the phone. “It’s possible she does. Maybe she’s the one who killed Mom—out of jealousy.” Jealousy was a powerful motive. After what she’d experienced in the last weeks, Rocki understood that in a way she never had before.
“She was in Europe when Mom died. She might still be there, on some class trip, touring with their eighteen-year-old daughter.”
“She could’ve hired someone—”
“Rocki!”
She winced at the concern in her sister’s voice. “What?”
“You sound...odd. What’s going on?”
Rocki squeezed her eyes shut. She was so torn. Should she wait to see what was going to happen? Continue to keep her secret? Or should she act to defend Landon, just in case?
“Rocki?”
Determined to act now, she took a deep breath. “Mom’s relationship with Hugh wasn’t exactly what you think, Maisey.”
“How do you know?”
“Gretchen told me.”
“Gretchen? The woman who raised you? That Gretchen? How? I don’t mean to sound callous, but she’s been dead for some years. There’s no way she could know about Hugh.”
“His relationship with Mom wasn’t new, Maisey.”
“What are you talking about? Of course it was new. Mom said she met him when she flew to New York a few months ago—in first class.”
“That part may be true, that she met him on a plane. But I’m telling you it wasn’t a recent trip.”
A brief silence told her Maisey was as shocked by this news as Rocki had expected her to be. “You’re saying the affair went on much longer?”
“For years. More than forty. Don’t get me wrong, it was probably on and off. Obviously, Mom would get with other men and then go back to him. I guess no one could really replace him. How else could the relationship have lasted all those years? But it started a long time ago. That’s how Gretchen knew.”
“How could that even be possible?”
“I know it sounds bizarre. But during my first year of college, my mother and I—Gretchen and I—went to some movie about a woman who cheated on her husband. The husband went crazy and killed his wife and her lover. So...we were talking about it as we drove home. That was the first time Gretchen ever brought up the fact that my birth mother had a lover. But she mentioned it several times after.”