Along Came Trouble

by Sherryl Woods

  King scowled. “Will you tell her or not?”

  “Go,” Pete said, waving him off impatiently. “We’ll make sure Frances knows you’re off meddling again.”

  King started to take exception to that, but he didn’t have time to waste. If the Chandler murder case was about to come together, he wanted to be there to make absolutely certain that Mary Elizabeth wasn’t the one behind bars. He was as convinced of her innocence as Tucker was, but he and his son had been wrong about her a time or two. He just prayed this wasn’t another one of those times.

  He was hurrying out the door when he ran into Frances. He gave her a thorough kiss that had her staring hard at him, then said, “I’m in a hurry. Pete will explain.”

  “If you’re going to Swan Ridge,” she said at once, “then I’m coming with you.”

  “You already know about the fire?”

  “Anna-Louise called me a half hour ago—Richard heard about it on the police scanner. Actually, I was coming to tell you. We can take my car. It’s closer.”

  King chafed at getting in a car with Frances behind the wheel. She tended to drive her sporty little convertible like a reckless teenager. It was a wonder she hadn’t wrapped it around a tree before now. Unfortunately, it was right in front of Earlene’s, illegally parked and running. His car was half a block away, since he tried not to park in a fire lane, the way Frances currently was.

  “By all means,” he said, climbing into the passenger seat and pulling his sunglasses from his pocket. Maybe if he closed his eyes, he wouldn’t notice how fast she was taking the curves on the narrow, winding road to Swan Ridge.

  Frances climbed behind the wheel, put the car into gear and peeled out of her illegal parking spot. When she hit the outskirts of town, she glanced at him.

  “You can open your eyes now,” she said with barely concealed amusement.

  “They’re not closed,” he lied.

  “If a man fibs about the little things, he’ll fib about the big ones,” she said.

  His gaze snapped open then, and he ripped off his sunglasses to prove it. “I have never lied to you, Frances. Never.”

  She regarded him with satisfaction, then nodded slowly. “In that case, the answer’s yes.”

  “Yes?” he repeated. “What the devil was the question? Stop talking in riddles, woman.”

  She slammed on the brakes, turned and stared straight into his eyes. “Yes, I will marry you, King Spencer.”

  Mouth gaping, he stared at her. When her words finally sank in, he let out a whoop. “If I weren’t in such a blasted hurry, I’d haul you over here and kiss you till your head started spinning,” he declared.

  She laughed, the happiest sound he’d heard in ages.

  “I do love you, you know,” she told him.

  “And I you,” he said, regarding her seriously.

  “So,” she said, “where’s my ring?”

  “Same place it’s been for the past couple of weeks,” he said. “In my pocket.”

  “Well?”

  “You want me to pull it out while we’re half-parked in the middle of the highway?” he asked incredulously.

  She pretended to consider the question thoughtfully, then nodded. “Yes, I think I do.”

  King reached for the ring even as he glanced over his shoulder and saw that cars were slowing to a stop on the road behind them. Let ’em wait, he thought as he plucked the velvet box from his pocket and removed the diamond inside. It caught the morning sun and sparkled brilliantly. Frances gasped.

  “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “I never expected anything so extravagant.”

  “I wanted something that suited you,” he said softly. “And this captures the sparkle in your eyes.”

  Her eyes welled with tears. “King Spencer, sometimes you say the most romantic things.”

  She held out her hand and he slipped the ring on her finger, just as the horns behind them began to honk impatiently. People in these parts were used to slowing down behind farm equipment, but not to coming to a complete stop for no reason at all. He stood up and shouted at the closest driver.

  “Pipe down. Can’t you see I’m getting engaged?”

  To his chagrin, it was Richard who poked his head out of the car, a grin splitting his face. He snapped a picture of the scene before King realized what he was about to do.

  “Now that is front-page news!” Richard shouted back, giving him a thumbs-up.

  King glanced at Frances and saw that her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. “Nothing to worry about, darling woman. I have a feeling when push comes to shove, the fire at Swan Ridge and the arrest of Chandler’s murderer are going to be bigger news than the two of us deciding to get hitched.”

  “Maybe so,” she said, laughing suddenly. “But this traffic jam we’re causing may just rate a headline below the fold. We’d better go.”

  “Not until I’ve kissed you to seal the deal,” he said, tucking a finger under her chin and pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. “I’ll do it right a little later.”

  He peered back at Richard. “Did you get that shot, too?” he hollered.

  The Trinity Harbor Weekly editor leaned out and grinned. “What do you think? I keep telling you I’m a damned fine journalist.”

  “Not if you’re more interested in snapping pictures of me and Frances than you are in getting out to Swan Ridge where the action is,” King said, just as Frances sedately put the car into drive and then shot down the highway, going full throttle and leaving Richard in her dust.

  King laughed. Damned if this wasn’t turning into the best morning of his life.

  Tucker was getting tired of the sordid mess that was Larry Chandler’s life. If their assumption was right and he had been mixed up with Arlene Willis, it was just one more example of Chandler’s poor judgment and his humiliating treatment of his wife.

  Over the weeks, as more and more things had come to light, Tucker was increasingly astounded that Mary Elizabeth had stuck with Chandler as long as she had.

  As they waited at Swan Ridge for word on whether the police had brought in Willis or his wife, Tucker also considered something else for the first time. Given everything that Chandler had been up to in his personal and his professional life—the affairs, the shady business dealings—Mary Elizabeth had to have known that she would never be the only suspect in the case, not the way she’d implied the night she’d come to him for help.

  All of which begged the question, why had she come to him, especially given their past history? Was it at all possible that she’d wanted something more than his help? It was something he needed to get into with her later. For now, he was just keeping a watchful eye on her as she roamed through the downstairs rooms at Swan Ridge, her expression increasingly sad.

  Eventually she came to him, looking unbearably lost and alone. At least that’s what he thought until he saw the glint of resolve in her eyes.

  “I’ve come to a decision,” she told him, her voice wavering. “Once this is over, I’m going to get rid of Swan Ridge. It’s not really a home. It’s a mausoleum.”

  Tucker’s heart seemed to stop beating. “And do what?” he asked.

  Her gaze met his. “That depends on a lot of things.”

  “Such as?”

  She shook her head. “Now’s not the time to talk about it.” Suddenly her expression faltered. “Oh, my gosh, I was supposed to meet Daisy this morning to look at property for the youth center and to get our committee started. How could I have forgotten that?”

  “Sweetheart, I’m sure she knows all about the fire. Walker came from home.”

  “I suppose, but I should call her. I don’t want her to think I’m standing her up, not when we’re just beginning to make progress with our friendship.”

  “Want me to call her?” Tucker offered, just as he glanced up and spotted a parade of people coming around the corner of the house. His father and Frances were in front, hand in hand, he noted. They were followed by Richard, and then by Daisy
. He reached for Mary Elizabeth’s shoulders and turned her. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

  His sister’s steps faltered when she saw Mary Elizabeth, but then her chin shot up, much as Mary Elizabeth’s had earlier. She marched across the patio, reached up and touched Mary Elizabeth’s cheek. “You okay? I would have come sooner, but I had to get Tommy up and take him over to Jenna’s. Bobby’s taking him and Darcy fishing this morning.”

  “I’m okay,” Mary Elizabeth said, then added, “better now that you’re here. I was just about to call you to apologize for forgetting about our plans to get started on the youth center project today.”

  “We can do that anytime,” Daisy said. She nodded toward the house. “How bad is it?”

  “Not as horrible as it could have been,” Mary Elizabeth said. “I’ll take you on the grand tour, though they don’t want me in my grandfather’s library. It’s a crime scene, and they’re not sure about structural damage.”

  “Whatever’s damaged can be fixed,” Daisy said, looping an arm around Mary Elizabeth’s shoulders as they went off to survey the damage again.

  “I’ll come, too,” Frances said, giving Mary Elizabeth’s hand a squeeze.

  As the three of them walked inside, Tucker thought about the irony of the situation. In the midst of losing a part of her past, Mary Elizabeth had finally found the friendships she’d been craving.

  Tucker turned away and spotted his father watching the women as they left.

  “So, Daddy, how are things with you and Frances?” he inquired. “Something seemed different just now.”

  “She accepted my proposal,” King said, looking a little dazed. “Did it right out on the highway about ten minutes ago. She caused a traffic jam for at least a mile, since she came to a stop in the middle of the road to say yes.”

  Tucker laughed at the image. “Somehow that seems suitable.”

  “Doesn’t it, though?” King agreed. “My life’s certainly not going to be dull, that’s for sure.”

  “I truly am happy for you,” Tucker told him with heartfelt sincerity.

  “Thank you, son. You think your brother and sister will feel the same way?”

  “I know they will. Bobby will just be disappointed that he wasn’t first on the scene. He kept thinking it was going to happen at the marina—even started a pool on it.”

  “He didn’t?” King said, clearly scandalized at the thought. Then he chuckled. “Serves him right that he’ll be the last to know.” He shot a warning look at Tucker. “And don’t you be the one to tell him, either. Let’s wait and let him find out from the front page of the paper.”

  Tucker regarded him with confusion. “You’re expecting coverage?”

  King grinned. “Richard was in the car right behind us out on the highway. Unless Walker gives him a bigger scoop, he claims the engagement will be front-page news this week.” His gaze narrowed. “So, son, what do you think? Am I going to get bumped off the front page?”

  “If that’s your way of asking if there’s been a break in the case, I can’t say. You’ll have to ask Walker.”

  “That’s a waste of time,” King said, his disgust plain. “He’s even more tight-lipped about police business than you are.”

  “A trait I sincerely respect,” Tucker said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go wish Frances luck. She’s going to need it.”

  “What about me?”

  “She said yes. You’ve already had better luck than you deserve,” Tucker told him, then gave him a hug. “Congratulations, old man!”

  King regarded him slyly. “You hurry things along with Mary Elizabeth, and we can make it a double ceremony.”

  “You worry about your own love life. Leave mine to me,” Tucker retorted as he walked away.

  “Must mean you finally have one, at least,” King called after him.

  “I’m not talking,” Tucker said emphatically.

  His father’s laughter followed him inside. Tucker wished he could be as cheerful about his prospects for the future. Instead, all he could think about was what Mary Elizabeth intended to do once she sold Swan Ridge and no longer had any ties to Trinity Harbor.

  Liz needed some space. Every time she walked through the rooms at Swan Ridge, she was filled with an almost unbearable sorrow at the thought of leaving it behind. But there were almost as many sad memories here as good ones. And most of the good ones had to do with Tucker. She could make new memories with him, wherever they were.

  Assuming he wanted a future with her. She didn’t think that was an unreasonable leap of faith to take after what had happened last night.

  She slipped out of the house, leaving Daisy and Frances pondering an idea she had had about turning Swan Ridge into the proposed youth center. Granted it wasn’t in the center of town, but they could always offer a shuttle service, if need be. And the spacious, tree-covered grounds were perfect for running and playing. A baseball field and basketball courts could be carved out of the nearby land. There was already a pool in back, and there were more than enough rooms inside for crafts and other activities, even for classroom space. She had a feeling even her grandfather might have approved of that use for the stately old home that was far too big for a woman alone, or even one with the sizable family she contemplated having with Tucker eventually.

  She glanced up at the cloudless sky as she strolled beneath the shadowy trees toward the Potomac. “So, what do you think, Grandfather? Would you mind very much if I did this for the town and for me?”

  The wink of sunlight on the river seemed to answer her, or at least she chose to think it did. “All right, then. If everyone agrees, that’s what I’m going to do.”

  “They say that talking to yourself is a sign of madness,” a chilly feminine voice said from somewhere in the shadows.

  Liz’s nerves jumped, but she tried very hard not to react visibly. She recognized the voice, even though she hadn’t heard it in years.

  “Hello, Arlene,” she replied evenly, as if she were welcoming company to her home. “Why don’t you come out where I can see you?”

  “I think I like this better,” Arlene said. “I have the advantage, for once.”

  The unconcealed bitterness in the remark threw Liz. She couldn’t ever recall being in competition with Arlene Willis, or Arlene Hathaway, as she had been back in high school.

  “Is that why you set the fire?” she asked, amazed at how calmly she could ask the question. “To get even for some old slight?”

  Arlene’s laugh was brittle. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “Why, then?”

  “It was just a little reminder,” she said, finally confirming that she had, indeed, been the arsonist. “Something to make you sit up and take notice that I was going to take everything from you, the way you took it from me.”

  Genuinely puzzled, Liz said, “What did I ever take from you, Arlene?”

  “My future,” she replied with total seriousness.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Ken and I had it all mapped out. He was going to go to law school, then run for office. He would have owned this county—if you hadn’t ruined everything. Do you have any idea how I hated you for that? Instead of being important, the way we’d planned, people looked at us as losers after Larry trounced Ken in that first election. That destroyed Ken’s self-esteem—he hasn’t been the same since. And it’s all because of you.”

  Alarm began to make Liz’s palms sweat. Funny how she hadn’t been scared at first, but now, hearing Arlene’s crazed thinking, she realized she wasn’t dealing with an old classmate who was rational, but one who was genuinely disturbed and dangerous.

  “Tell me how I ruined things,” Liz suggested, praying that if she kept Arlene talking, Tucker would eventually notice her absence and come looking for her. “What did I do?”

  “You married Larry Chandler, an outsider with absolutely no ties to this region,” Arlene said with the disdain many people felt about the “come-h
eres”—everyone who hadn’t been born and bred in the Northern Neck and couldn’t trace their ties back at least a generation or two.

  “You legitimized him, you and your grandfather,” Arlene went on. “He had money and charm, and after the wedding, he had the Swan family power behind him. Ken and I never stood a chance after that. I knew then that the only thing left to do was to destroy your marriage, the way you’d destroyed mine when you ruined our dream.”

  “How? By having an affair with my husband?” Liz said. “Were you one of the other women, Arlene? Was that part of your revenge, sleeping with my husband? How was that supposed to help Ken?”

  “It was too late to help Ken. I wanted Larry for myself. I wanted to go all the places he could take me. I wanted what you’d stolen from me—the power, the success, the money.”

  Now Liz was totally confused. “Then why did you shoot him? You did kill him, didn’t you, Arlene?”

  Rather than replying, Arlene laughed. The sound was oddly shrill. It sent a shiver of foreboding chasing down Liz’s spine.

  Then Arlene stepped out of the shadows, and the day went from bad to worse. A bright glare momentarily blinded Liz, and the first hint of panic made her breath freeze in her throat as she tried to understand what had sent the blinding light into her eyes. Arlene shifted her stance until Liz could catch a clear glimpse of her.

  The woman was holding a very deadly-looking gun, aimed directly at Liz’s chest. Given what she had almost certainly done to Larry, Liz hadn’t the slightest doubt in her mind that Arlene was perfectly capable of pulling the trigger.

  24

  Eager to offer his congratulations to Frances and bored with his role of observer rather than investigator, Tucker went inside and found Daisy and Frances had been joined by Gail Thorensen and Anna-Louise. They were deeply engrossed in an excited discussion about something. Normally he would have been curious about that, but he was more concerned because there was no sign of Mary Elizabeth. She’d been in an odd mood ever since she’d seen the destruction in her grandfather’s library. He didn’t think she ought to be left alone.