“—that’s not really me,” she said as she straightened. “I was born to be bad.” She smiled at him. “I learned that from you. Thank you so much.”
Phin swallowed. “You’re welcome.”
Then Sophie put away the six, and he thought, Hell, she could beat me. It was a strangely arousing thought.
But there was a limit.
“Actually, I already knew about your family,” he said. “Zane told me.”
She had chalked and bent to shoot again, but now she hesitated. “He did?”
Phin nodded. “He seemed a little annoyed that I didn’t care.”
“Oh,” Sophie said, and sighted down the cue to the eight. When she missed the shot, it was by such a tiny miscalculation, hitting the ball just a fraction too hard, that he was almost sorry.
But not sorry enough not to put the eight and nine away. This was, after all, pool. He chalked his cue and looked at the eight. She’d left him a cut shot, not an easy one, but one he could make. He bent to shoot, and she said, “There’s something else you should know.”
“What?” he said, without raising his head.
“I’m not wearing any underpants.” She sat down out of his sight line, and when he turned his head to look at her, she smiled at him innocently with her legs crossed, the slender, curving line of her thigh disappearing into her short, clinging pink dress. “Sort of like your fantasy.”
His cue wavered, and he straightened. “You really think I’m going to fall for that?”
Sophie shrugged. “Check your back pocket.”
Against his better judgment, he did, and felt the slippery slide of nylon and lace. He pulled it out and held it up in front of him. Definitely Sophie’s pink lace drawers. He shrugged. “Big deal.” He stuffed them back in his pocket and bent to take his shot, and then he thought about her bending over the table, making draw and follow shots with such elegance, hitting that one stop shot that had been so simply beautiful that he’d felt dizzy just looking at her. All without underpants.
Steady, he told himself.
Then he thought about the incredible things she’d just done to him in bed, and for the first time in his life, he thought seriously about having sex on his pool table. The hell with the felt. Great-grandpa would understand.
“You going to take that shot anytime soon?” Sophie asked, and he lined up the shot, thought of Sophie’s naked butt, and miscued, just a fraction of a fraction of an inch, but a miscue just the same.
“So close,” Sophie said as she stood up. “But then pool, like love, is not a forgiving sport.” She went to the table, and he watched her make the cut shot with perfect draw and then pocket the nine with that stop shot that made his heart clutch.
“God almighty,” Wes said from the doorway, and Phin looked up and said, “I know. It’s a beautiful thing.”
“Thank you.” Sophie put her cue carefully back in the rack, and Phin followed the line of her back as she did, lingering on her naked-under-that-dress butt.
He had to do something to get some blood back to his brain. “I need to see you upstairs.”
“I don’t think so.” She reached for his back pocket and pulled her underwear out as she walked past. “Turn around, Wes.”
Wes raised his eyebrows at the underpants and then turned his back, and Sophie stepped into her drawers and pulled them up over her firm, round butt.
Phin said, “No, really. Upstairs.”
“No, really, I can’t. If I go up there, I’ll just lose my head and ask for commitment. So later for you.” Sophie drifted past Wes, a vision of skill and sex, and Phin let his breath out as she went.
“I missed something, didn’t I?” Wes said when she was gone.
Phin leaned on his cue, staring at the doorway where he’d seen her last, her pink dress imprinted on his retina. “I knew it. I knew it the first minute I saw her. The devil’s candy.”
“What?”
“She just fucked me six ways to Sunday.”
“She beat you at pool, too,” Wes said, looking at the table.
“That’s what I mean,” Phin said. “It’s going to take me years to recover from this.”
“It’s just pool,” Wes said. “She’s leaving after the premiere on Tuesday. Get a grip. I need to talk to you.”
Phin ignored him to replay Sophie’s stop shot in his mind. Then he replayed her body in his bed. Then he remembered the way he needed to talk to her every night, and the way she’d stood up for Dillie at the game, and the way she laughed and made his heart pound harder every time she met his eyes, and he knew it wasn’t just sex.
It wasn’t even pool.
“Phin?” Wes said.
“I think I’m going to have to marry her,” Phin said. “Dillie likes her. I could teach her to read. This could work.”
Wes shook his head. “Your mind is clouded by pool. You’ve only known her three weeks. Wait until the game wears off and rethink this.”
“Okay,” Phin said, and thought about Sophie’s stop shot again.
For that alone, he had to love her.
“Clea got to Rob,” Wes told Phin, when they were sitting on the bookstore porch. “She’s been telling him that the only thing standing in their way was Zane. She’s got him convinced she’s in love with him.”
“Just like Dad,” Phin said. “Helluva tradition, those Lutz boys.”
“She gave him her cell phone and sent him out after Zane that night with instructions to call if Zane got into any trouble. She told Rob he was drunk and if he fell in the river, he’d drown.”
“And Rob didn’t get the hint.”
“No, thank God. He followed him to the back of Garvey’s, and then Zane stopped and waited there, so Rob called Rachel on the cell phone to come out and meet him.”
Phin frowned, incredulous. “Why—”
“He thought Zane would make a pass and Rachel would scream and Stephen would come out and it would be all over. This is Rob, remember. No execution. For which we should all be grateful. So Rachel Maced him and shoved him in the river, and then Rob took her out to the Tavern and Zane climbed back to the path and met somebody with a gun.” Wes sighed. “With the stuff I dragged out of Amy about the body, I’ve got a better time of death. Zane went into the water alive and unshot about nine forty-five. Amy came back from the Tavern and went upstairs a little after ten, but you and Sophie were . . . loud, so she went out to the dock to cool off and found Zane. Her best guess is ten-thirty.”
“Forty-five minutes,” Phin said. “Anybody have an alibi?”
“You and Sophie,” Wes said. “Rob and Rachel at the Tavern. Leo in L.A. Hildy and Ed.”
Phin raised an eyebrow. “Hildy and Ed?”
“Watching porn at his place,” Wes said. “Police work turns up a lot of stuff you wish you didn’t know.”
“So that leaves . . .?”
“Frank, who didn’t go home. Georgia, who was home alone after you dropped her off. Your mom, who was home with Dillie in bed. Stephen, who was home, but who sleeps in a different room than Virginia.”
“Christ, this guy can’t catch a break,” Phin said, and then thought about Virginia. “Or maybe he can.”
“And Clea, Amy, and Davy,” Wes said. “None of these people can find the guns that are supposed to be in their respective houses. All of them had access to Sophie’s bedroom to plant the gun we found there, which, by the way, is now in Cincinnati for a ballistics test.”
“Davy and Amy wouldn’t put a gun under Sophie’s mattress,” Phin said.
“Amy might,” Wes said. “She’s used to Sophie carrying the can for her. And there was a good chance that gun would never be found. But Davy’s the one I’m really interested in.”
“I don’t think Davy Dempsey is a killer.”
“You’re forgetting Clea. They were lovers five years ago until she dumped him for Zane, and I’m picking up some tension there now. It’d be like Clea to hedge her bets by sending two guys after Zane. What if she told Davy she
’d made a mistake, that she’d come back to him if Zane were gone?”
“Davy Dempsey is not a killer,” Phin said. “And if he decided to become one, he wouldn’t shoot his victim in the shoulder with a popgun.”
“Unless he knew his victim had heart problems,” Wes said. “Then that becomes a smart thing to do. You can’t be convicted of murder, but you can cause a man to die, just the same. That’s devious enough for Davy. In fact, it’s so devious I’m starting to think it can only be Davy.”
“What are you going to do?” Phin said.
“Keep digging,” Wes said. “Wait for the ballistics report on the gun in Sophie’s bed. Watch Davy Dempsey. Pray for a miracle.”
“You’re doing a helluva job with this,” Phin told him.
“One other thing,” Wes said, and Phin tensed at the tone in his voice. “The gun in Sophie’s bed was your dad’s.”
The worst part, Phin thought, was that neither of them was surprised. “I don’t want to know this.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s the gun that shot Zane,” Wes said.
“No, but it is the gun that framed Sophie,” Phin said. “I need to talk to my mother.”
When Phin got home, Liz was waiting for him in the hall, glowering.
“Now what?” he said, and she said, “You took her to Dillie’s softball game.”
“Yes,” Phin said, looking around for his daughter, and Liz said, “She’s not here. I took her to Junie’s so we could have this out.”
“Good,” Phin said. “You put Dad’s gun under Sophie’s mattress. A loaded gun, under Sophie’s mattress. You could have killed her.”
“I suppose she told you that,” Liz stood stone-faced, framed by the big front door. “She lies. She’s trying to destroy this family and you’re letting her. You’re going to have to choose. If you’re going to continue to consort with her, you can’t live under my roof. I won’t let you destroy this family for sex.”
“It’s not sex,” Phin said. “And I’m not destroying the family, but you might be.”
“Choose,” Liz said, and Phin said, “You’re right. It’s time anyway.”
Her face relaxed and she smiled. “I knew you’d see—”
“I’ll pack my stuff and move down to the bookstore tonight—”
“No,” Liz said, her face twisting.
“What did you expect? I’ll get one of the bedrooms cleared out tomorrow and come back for Dillie and her things then.”
“NO,” Liz said, and Phin said, “You can stop shrieking ‘no’ at me. This was your idea.”
“If you have to move out to be with that—”
“Careful.”
Liz drew a deep breath. “—that woman, that’s your mistake, but you’re not taking Dillie. You’re not capable of—”
Phin took another step toward his mother so that he towered over her. “You have no idea of what I’m capable of when it comes to my daughter,” he said softly. “Don’t try to find out.”
“You’re being a fool,” Liz said.
“You’re being a bitch,” Phin said, and Liz drew back as if she’d been slapped. “Stop harassing Sophie. I’ll come get Dillie tomorrow.” Then he turned and went up the stairs to pack, not looking back at all.
It took Phin and Sophie all Sunday to move the books from one of the bedrooms—the one with the window seat in the tower corner because Sophie insisted Dillie would love it—and when they were done, they were both covered in dust and sweat in spite of the air-conditioning.
“Dillie’s going to go nuts for this room,” Sophie said, wiping the sweat from her forehead and leaving a dirt streak behind. She looked at him cautiously. “Speaking of nuts, how’s your mom taking this?”
“About as well as can be expected,” Phin said, trying not to think about his mother. “Which is not well at all. Can I interest you in a shower?”
“I assume this is a twofer,” Sophie said.
“Water conservation.” Phin reached for her, knowing exactly how she’d feel against him and wanting her even more because of it. “Also sex. Come here.”
“The things I give up for you.” Sophie moved toward him into his arms. “Private showers, vintage mattresses, money, my reputation—”
“So you’re not losing anything you really needed.” He smiled down at her as she cuddled close, and then what she’d said registered. “What money?”
She stopped to look up at him, caught, her eyes wide. “Money?”
He moved his hands up to her shoulders, exasperated with her and loving her anyway. “Sophie, listen to me, if you know where Zane’s money is—”
“Oh, I don’t,” Sophie said, meeting his eyes without hesitation, clearly telling the truth. She slid her arms around his waist and pulled him close, and she felt great against him, but not great enough to distract him. “About that shower—”
“About that money,” he said. “Whose money, and where is it?”
Sophie sighed. “It’s your mother’s, and it’s in her bank account. That day she came out to the farm, she tried to buy me off. But that was two weeks ago so—”
“Buy you off?” Phin looked down at her, incredulous. “Who the hell does she think she is?”
“Liz Tucker,” Sophie said. “She’s just trying to protect you. Now, can I have that shower?”
There was something in her voice; she was talking too fast. “No.” Phin guided her over to the window seat and pulled her into his lap. “There’s more. I don’t give a damn what it is, I’ll forgive you anything, but I want it all.”
Sophie pulled away from him. “I didn’t do anything, you butthead. You can go forgive somebody else.”
Phin winced. “Sorry. But you’re not telling me everything. What else did my mother do?”
“I don’t know,” Sophie said, standing. “I haven’t seen her since that day, I swear to God. Now, I’m going to shower. If you want to come, too, fine, but I’m going to be naked and wet with or without you.”
He followed her into the bathroom, still suspicious, but when she took off her clothes, he decided he could wait to grill her again until they were both clean and satisfied.
An hour later, buttoning up his shirt as he sat on the edge of his bed and trying to think of what he was missing about his mother and money, Phin stopped on the second button and thought, Diane. “She bought off Diane, didn’t she?” he said to Sophie, and Sophie zipped up her shorts and said, “How would I know?”
“But that’s what you think.”
“But I’m often wrong,” Sophie said.
He thought about Diane and Dillie and the whole miserable mess. “Christ.”
“It’s over,” Sophie said, coming to him. “Whatever really happened, it doesn’t matter. It’s over.”
He put his arms around her and thought, It’s not over. Two women had come between him and his family, and the first one was dead.
Family values weren’t supposed to be lethal.
“What?” Sophie said.
“I have to take you home,” he told her, standing up. “It’s time for a little Tucker family time.”
Phin found his mother sitting at her desk in her air-conditioned office on the Hill. She nodded when he came in, and then turned back to her desk, punishing him with her silence.
“You bought Diane off,” he said, and she stiffened but didn’t turn around. He went to her, grabbed the back of the chair and spun it around on its wheels so that she grabbed the arms.
“Phin!”
“How much?” he said, leaning over her.
She pressed her lips together, stony-faced, and he waited for what seemed like hours. “Fifty thousand,” she said finally.
Phin straightened. “Not bad. What was that for, the first year?”
His mother nodded.
“As long as she stayed away from me and Dillie.” His mother nodded again.
“But she bought a car,” Phin said. “New clothes, furniture for the river house. How long did it take her to run through it?�
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“She was stupid,” his mother said bitterly. “Thank God, Dillie got our brains.”
“Right now, I’m wondering about yours,” Phin said. “You really thought she’d leave us alone for fifty grand a year? Living right here in Temptation? She wasn’t the only one who was stupid.”
Liz flinched. “She was supposed to move away. As soon as she recovered from having Dillie, she was supposed to go away.”
“And how were you going to make her do that?” Phin said. “Who do you think you are?”
“I’m your mother,” Liz snapped. “I took care of you. That harpy would have ruined you. She made you miserable the whole time she was with you.” She looked at him in disgust. “You’re impossible when it comes to women. Diane was a greedy little slut and now this—”
“Careful.” Phin’s voice cut across the space between them. “You really don’t want to make me choose again.”
“The whole town’s talking,” Liz said, her voice shaking. “That woman killed Zane. They found the gun under her bed—”
“What?” Phin said. How the hell had the gossips gotten hold of that?
Liz nodded. “You don’t know her. She killed him—”
“She was in bed with me,” Phin said. “Wes has got the time of death narrowed down to forty-five minutes, and she was naked with me the entire time. Where’d you get this crap?”
“Virginia,” Liz said. “But everybody knows. And now you’re protecting her—”
“Could you just once listen to me?” Phin said. “Instead of spitting paranoia at me?”
Liz clenched her jaw. “I’m not paranoid. You need me. I got you free of Diane. I saved you.”
“I’m just wondering how free,” Phin said, looking at the steel in his mother’s eyes. “She died when Dillie was three months old. That must have been about the time she ran out of money. Did she come back for more?”
“Yes,” Liz said, her disgust palpable, and then his implication must have registered because her eyes widened, and she said, “No.”
“Did you shove her down those steps?” Phin said, sick at heart. “Did you watch her bleed to death? Did Zane find out? Did you shoot him?”
Welcome to Temptation/Bet Me Page 31