Along Came Trouble

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Along Came Trouble Page 8

by Sherryl Woods


  “I think it’s going to take more than one evening and some casual chitchat over the halibut special to accomplish that,” Mary Elizabeth responded ruefully. “I’m not sure a lifetime’s long enough. You know how King loves to hold a grudge. He hasn’t spoken to your uncle in how long? Twenty, maybe thirty years? Does he even remember what the feud was about?”

  “In detail,” Tucker said regretfully. “He still talks about the prize bull his brother stole out from under him at an auction.”

  “Then I don’t hold out a lot of hope for tonight,” she said.

  “The key is to get him into an appropriately mellow frame of mind,” Tucker said thoughtfully. “Bobby, have the waiter set two more places at the table.”

  “If you think I’m sitting here to play referee, you’re crazy,” Bobby said, standing up at once. “And I’ve already warned Jenna to stay home tonight. I called the second you walked in the door.”

  “The places are for King and Frances.” Tucker pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and punched in a number. “Didn’t you tell me she and Daddy had a reservation here tonight until he called to cancel it?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Frances, this is Tucker.” He winked at Bobby, who shook his head and went in search of a waiter. “I’m at the marina, and I understand that you were planning to meet Daddy here tonight. I’m almost a hundred percent certain he’s on his way over here right now. Why don’t you join us? You’d be doing me a huge favor.”

  Frances chuckled. “Yes, I imagine I would. Your father’s on the warpath over you getting mixed up with Mary Elizabeth’s problems, isn’t he? It didn’t take a genius to figure that one out once I saw the evening news.” She sighed. “Not that he said a thing about it when he canceled our date.”

  “Will you come over here and protect me? Please,” Tucker coaxed.

  She hesitated.

  “I’d really, really appreciate it.”

  “Mary Elizabeth is there?”

  “Yes.”

  “That poor girl,” Frances said, clearly wavering. “She must be beside herself. Okay, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. But keep in mind I am doing this for her, not to protect you from that meddling, know-it-all father of yours.”

  Tucker grinned and gestured to the hovering waiter to go ahead and set the places. “Understood,” he assured Frances.

  When he’d hung up, he looked at Mary Elizabeth. “She’s on her way. She’s worried about you.”

  Tears filled her eyes, but this time she made no attempt to keep them from spilling over. “She said that?”

  “Sweetheart, I told you that not everyone in Trinity Harbor is going to think you’re guilty of a crime.”

  “But the few who don’t suspect me of killing Larry are going to blame me for hurting you.”

  “Which is one reason we’re here tonight, instead of at my house. People need to get the message that they don’t need to worry about me, that you and I are getting along just fine, despite past differences.”

  She studied him intently. “Are we, Tucker? Are we really getting along okay?”

  “Have you heard me say anything to the contrary?”

  “No, but you always were the most polite man I ever knew under the most trying circumstances. A lot of men would have plucked me out of bed and dumped me on the front lawn, rather than get involved in any way with a woman who’d abandoned them.”

  Tucker glanced up and spotted his father coming in the door in full battle mode. “I think we’d better postpone that discussion for later and prepare to defend ourselves.”

  Mary Elizabeth turned pale. Her hands were clenched together so tightly in her lap that her knuckles were white. Tucker reached over and gave them a reassuring squeeze. He withdrew hurriedly, because the jolt of awareness that shot through him had little to do with comfort and a whole lot to do with attraction.

  “Just smile and leave the rest to me,” he said, then lowered his voice, “And remember, if he gets really contrary, I still have my gun with me.”

  She laughed at that, just the way he’d hoped she would. By the time King reached the table, she’d squared her shoulders and faced him with a smile that only someone who knew her well would recognize as forced.

  “King, it’s lovely to see you again,” she said.

  Tucker noted his father’s startled reaction and waited to see what he’d do next. King wasn’t constitutionally capable of being outright rude to a woman’s face.

  “Mary Elizabeth,” he finally acknowledged with a curt nod.

  Satisfied that for the moment his father would remain on good behavior, Tucker gestured toward a chair. “Have a seat and join us. Bobby says the halibut is especially fine tonight.”

  “I didn’t come here to have dinner,” King grumbled, but he sat just the same.

  “No, I imagine you came here to tell me what a mistake I’m making,” Tucker said, getting the issue out on the table.

  King seemed surprised that Tucker had grasped that. “As a matter of fact, that is exactly what I intended to say.” He frowned at Mary Elizabeth. “No offense.”

  “None taken,” she said, her lips twitching with amusement. “And I can understand why you might not want Tucker mixed up in my husband’s murder investigation.”

  “The investigation’s not what has me worried,” he said pointedly. “It’s this.” His gesture encompassed the two of them. “You two, out here in public when her husband hasn’t even been buried yet.”

  “We’re having dinner in a public place,” Tucker pointed out. “Not dining all alone by candlelight at my house. You think that would be better?”

  “No, dammit. I don’t think you should be dining together at all. In fact, I think you should be steering completely clear of each other. Otherwise, a tragic situation is likely to turn ugly with speculation and innuendos running rampant around town.”

  “I’m sure you’ll set people straight, won’t you, King?” Mary Elizabeth said, her gaze steady. “After all, who knows the two of us better than you do, and you certainly don’t think there’s any hanky-panky involved, do you?”

  “Of course not,” he blustered. “My son’s not a fool.”

  “Well, then, you should be able to shoot down all that nasty speculation, shouldn’t you?” she challenged.

  “Of course I can.”

  She beamed at him. “We’ll be counting on that.”

  King’s gaze narrowed. “‘We’?” he echoed. “You’re already referring to you and Tucker as if the two of you are a pair? Woman, you cannot just waltz back in here and expect to pick up with my son right where you left off. Let’s call a spade a spade, why don’t we? That is what you’re really after, isn’t it?”

  Tucker had heard enough. “Daddy, that was uncalled for. Mary Elizabeth has no expectations of a personal nature where I’m concerned. I think you owe her an apology, along with your condolences. She’s just lost her husband.”

  “To tell the truth, she doesn’t look all that broken up about it,” King noted. “Why is that, I wonder? Does it have something to do with the fact that she has you waiting in the wings to fill his shoes?”

  Tucker shot to his feet. “That’s enough! If you can’t keep a civil tongue in your head, you can leave.”

  In his fury, he hadn’t noticed Frances’s approach just as King had all but declared war on Mary Elizabeth. Frances marched up to the table and scowled down at King. It was apparent that she had heard every word.

  “King Spencer, you ought to be ashamed of yourself,” she told him. “You’ve known Mary Elizabeth for most of her life. You knew her granddaddy and her father. You know the kind of woman she is. And you certainly know how honorable your son is. How dare you suggest right out here in public where anyone can hear that there is anything improper going on between them? If there are rumors flying tomorrow, you’ll be the one responsible and no one else. I’m embarrassed for you.”

  Bright patches of color crept up King’s neck and turned his cheeks
red. “Frances, where did you come from? I thought I told you I couldn’t see you tonight after all.”

  “So you did, but Tucker invited me to join him and Mary Elizabeth. I knew she would be in need of a friendly face tonight, so I came. I am very glad I did, because it has given me a chance to see just how low you can sink when it comes to meddling in your children’s lives.” She leaned down and gave Mary Elizabeth a hug. “Pay no attention to this old coot. I certainly don’t.”

  “Frances,” King protested.

  Tucker winced. He certainly hadn’t expected to make things worse between his father and Frances by inviting her here tonight. He liked her, liked the way she stood up to King and refused to let him bulldoze over her. Few women—few people—had ever had the nerve to challenge him the way Frances did. And he could see by the worried look on his father’s face that King was afraid this time he’d pushed her too far.

  King stood up. “Frances, why don’t you and I go to another table, where we can have that talk we planned on having tonight?”

  “Absolutely not. I’m here to support a friend. You can do whatever you want.”

  Bobby appeared from the kitchen just then. Tucker saw him take note of the fact that three of the people at the table were standing, regarding each other warily.

  “So, who’s having the special?” Bobby inquired cheerfully. “And who’s dining on crow?”

  King scowled at him. “Very funny.”

  “Well?” Bobby prodded. “The special’s going fast.”

  “I’ll have that,” Tucker said, taking his seat. “Mary Elizabeth?”

  “Fine,” she said without much enthusiasm.

  “The halibut sounds lovely,” Frances agreed, pushing aside King’s hand when he would have pulled her chair out for her.

  King sighed and retreated to his own chair. “Might as well make it four.”

  Bobby’s smile spread. “See now, the four of you can agree on something. Isn’t that nice?”

  Tucker bit back a chuckle at King’s stormy expression. “A smart man would retreat to the kitchen about now,” he advised his brother.

  “A smart man would have run like hell an hour ago,” Bobby retorted. “Guess we know what that makes you.”

  Sadly, after a glance around the table at his stony-faced companions, Tucker concluded that his brother was exactly right.

  7

  Despite all of the awkwardness and tension, which should have been enough to give her a raging headache, Liz thoroughly enjoyed dinner once she got through the initial sparring with King. Obviously her life lately had been worse than she’d realized, if dining with a cranky man who hated her, the woman who seemed likely to be his ex-ladyfriend and a man she’d once dumped could make her feel this cheerful less than 24 hours after her husband had died.

  She smiled as she sank back on the seat in Tucker’s car. “That was wonderful,” she said with a contented sigh.

  “Bobby will be delighted you enjoyed the meal,” Tucker said, his jaw still set, his anger radiating from him in palpable waves.

  “I meant all of it, every single second of sitting around that table with you, your father and Frances.”

  Tucker turned and stared at her, clearly astonished by her claim. “Are you crazy?”

  “It was just so normal.”

  “Sweetheart, if you thought that was normal, then dysfunctionality must have reached new heights in your life.”

  Her smile vanished at the all-too-accurate observation. “It had,” she said quietly.

  Her solemn response clearly stunned him. Something that looked an awful lot like pity shadowed his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry for me,” she snapped. “I made my own choices. I chose Larry. I chose to stay with him even after I knew he was cheating on me.”

  She had blurted the comment out without thinking, but now she was glad it was out in the open.

  “He cheated on you?” Tucker asked.

  The incredulous expression on his face would have been laughable if the topic hadn’t been so serious. “Over and over,” she said flatly, refusing to show even an ounce of self-pity. She was done with feeling sorry for herself. That was the past, and she was going to put her life back on track, no matter what it took.

  “Then why in hell would you stay with him?” He rubbed a hand across his face. “Sorry. That’s none of my business.”

  “It’s okay. I promised I’d explain why I’m not more upset about him being dead. You’re not the only one who’s going to think I’m totally insensitive, not that I’ll ever tell anyone else the reason why. That particular truth will be buried with Larry.”

  Tucker shook his head. “That may not be possible, not when he’s been murdered. For one thing, the media’s going to be all over this story. For another, the police—and I, for that matter—will have to explore every angle to try to find out who did this.”

  “There’s no way…?” she began, regarding him hopefully.

  “None I can see. Once everyone starts digging around in your husband’s life, if there are skeletons, they will be found.”

  She drew in a deep breath as reality set in. Her life was going to be exposed to intense scrutiny. Everyone would know that her husband had humiliated her time and again with his other women. Was that too high a price to pay to discover the person responsible for his death? Of course not. The real hurt had come with the cheating and with the lies to cover it up, lies that had eventually led to an inability to trust one single word that her husband had uttered. She wondered if she would ever be able to trust any man again.

  One glance at Tucker answered that question. She could trust him with her life. She was trusting him with her life.

  Liz caught his worried expression. “What?” she asked.

  “Are you going to be okay with that?” he asked. “Is there anything I need to know?”

  “Are you asking if there are skeletons in my closet that are going to come tumbling out?” she asked, refusing to take offense at the question. “No, none. No affairs. No secret deals. I didn’t embezzle money from any of the charities I raised money for. Larry was the only one with secrets he wanted hidden.”

  “Okay, then,” Tucker said with unmistakable relief. “Start at the beginning. When did you first discover he was cheating?”

  Maybe it would be easier to get into all this in the dark interior of a car on the quiet streets of Trinity Harbor than it would be under the glare of lights in Tucker’s living room. She took a deep breath and began.

  “Only a few weeks after the wedding,” she told him, determined to betray absolutely no emotion. “I don’t know how long it had been going on, probably from the beginning. At that point he was involved with his campaign manager, a woman named Cynthia Miles. She was young, blond and ambitious.”

  “Was she in love with him?”

  “Hard to say. She was very good at hiding her emotions. Seeing the two of them together, I would never have suspected a thing, if I hadn’t walked into his hotel suite and found them in bed.”

  Tucker’s jaw clenched again. “Why the hell didn’t you leave him then?”

  Liz shrugged. “The usual reasons, I suppose. He apologized and swore it would never happen again. I was still starry-eyed and in love. I wanted to believe him. As soon as the campaign was over, he fired her because I insisted on it.”

  “How did she take that?”

  “Not well, I gather. I wasn’t there.”

  “Did she vow to get even?”

  “If she did, it would have been with me, not Larry.”

  “I’ll need to talk to her. Is she in Richmond?”

  “Of course, that’s where the power is in this state,” Liz said dryly. “Cynthia would never stray far from that.”

  “Did you cross paths often?”

  “Not if I could help it, but yes, she was often at political rallies for various party candidates. She was good at her job. She had no difficulty finding work.”

  “So she could hard
ly have resented Larry—or you—for ruining her career,” he said thoughtfully.

  “I don’t see how,” Liz agreed.

  “Were there more lovers after this Miles woman?”

  She nodded, embarrassed but determined to be totally honest.

  “Yet you stayed. Why?”

  “I don’t know if you can possibly understand this, but here it is. I chose to play the docile, loving wife because that’s what was expected of me. It was a role, and I gave an Academy Award caliber performance for years.”

  “Why?” he persisted.

  She thought back on the decision she had wrestled with time and again, always coming down on the side of trying to save her marriage. There had been more to it, though. She could admit that now.

  “Because I didn’t want to acknowledge, even to myself, what a terrible mistake I had made,” she said quietly. “It would have meant I’d hurt you for nothing.”

  She slanted a look at Tucker across the car’s dark interior. The only light came from the dashboard, but she could tell that he was biting back a curse. She plunged on. Now that she’d started, she wanted him to know it all. “In many ways, Larry was a lot like my father, charming and immature and totally irresponsible in his personal life, but you only figured that out on close inspection. The casual observer seldom saw past the fact that he was handsome and witty and a brilliant politician. When I realized I’d made the same mistake my mother had, I did exactly what she did. I accepted it as my due. I’d made my own bed, so to speak, and just as she had, I was determined to lie in it. A Swan would do nothing less.”

  “Family tradition?” Tucker asked mockingly. “Or penance?”

  “Penance, probably.”

  “A miserable life is a high price to pay for one mistake,” he pointed out.

  “My life wasn’t miserable,” she insisted, determined to make him see that it wasn’t as black and white as he was trying to make it. “I had everything money could buy. I had the time—in fact, I was encouraged—to get involved with a lot of high-profile, worthwhile causes, to make a real difference in people’s lives. That can be incredibly rewarding.” She sighed. “All that was missing was love.”

 

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