The Fred Vickery Mystery Series: Books 1-3 (Fred Vickery Mysteries)

by Sherry Lewis

  Under Suzanne’s watchful eye, Douglas studied the thin book Alison handed him and made a comment or two before Suzanne said, “Alison and I have to leave now, Douglas. I’m sorry you couldn’t visit longer. If you’ll call first next time, this won’t happen.”

  Douglas’s face darkened, but he gave Alison a quick hug. “Okay then. I’ll call you tomorrow, sweetie. Would you like that?”

  Alison nodded, but when Douglas hugged her again she remained stiff in his arms.

  Silently cursing the heartache they’d all endured, Fred hugged her next. “See you tomorrow, okay cupcake?”

  She nodded again and a corner of her little mouth lifted.

  Fred straightened and patted Suzanne’s shoulder, then stepped behind his son into the weak March sunlight.

  Douglas didn’t speak until they’d put several houses behind them; but when he finally did, the words snapped like taut wire. “Dammit! Can you believe that?”

  Fred’s compassion stretched between them all, but centered on Alison. Being torn between two loving parents couldn’t be easy for a kid that age. “It’s terrible.”

  “Suzanne’s turned my own kid against me—against her own father!”

  “Don’t jump to conclusions,” Fred warned. “Alison’s confused and upset about the divorce. I think everybody is.”

  Douglas swore again.

  “Give her time, son.”

  “Time? What the hell’s time going to do for me if her mother’s turning her against me?” Douglas stormed off, setting such a grueling pace Fred had to demand a respite before the end of the block. With a glare of annoyance, Douglas complied and walked a bit slower, but they didn’t speak again the whole way home.

  Fred tried to recapture some of the pleasure he’d felt in the early spring weather, but somehow the day didn’t seem quite as bright as it had before. And watching Douglas march beside him, Fred’s internal alarms sounded. The divorce had been ugly enough before, but Fred had the uneasy feeling that the hostilities had just escalated.

  THREE

  Later that evening, steam wafted up from Fred’s coffee cup and teased his nostrils. The perfect end to a not-so-perfect meal. He was still hungry after a skimpy serving of a dish listed on the menu as something fancy and foreign. If you asked Fred, it was nothing more than chicken and broccoli, and there hadn’t been enough of it to fill a man up. He leaned back in his chair and watched Douglas, who seemed content with his meal, stir sugar into his cup.

  After their disastrous visit with Alison that afternoon, Douglas had disappeared into his old bedroom for a couple of hours. He’d finally emerged with an offer to buy dinner at the Four Seasons, the area’s newest restaurant. Fred had agreed, though he’d have preferred the Bluebird Café.

  The Four Seasons had only been open a few months, since just after Christmas, but it had already grown enormously popular with the younger generation. Albán Toth had taken his profits from the Copper Penny Lounge and turned the old Mason Marina into one of those places where he could charge outrageous prices for meager portions of food with unpronounceable names. The restaurant had a nice atmosphere, but Fred would have taken one of Liz Hatch’s country fried steaks with mash potatoes and gravy anytime.

  Pushing aside the hunger pangs that always came with thoughts of Liz’s food, Fred lifted the delicate cup and hoped he wouldn’t crush the thing between his fingers. “So, are you ready to tell me what’s going on yet?”

  Douglas smiled. “Can’t I take you out for a birthday dinner without you thinking something’s going on?”

  “My birthday’s not until next month.”

  “I know. And you’re what—seventy-two?”

  “I’ll be seventy-three,” Fred told him. “Now talk.”

  “About what?”

  “You’ve been home twenty-four hours and the only thing I’m sure of is that you aren’t here for a casual visit. What are you trying to do?”

  Douglas scowled. “I came home to see my daughter. Are you going to tell me there’s something wrong with that?”

  “No,” Fred said patiently. “That’s fine. But I don’t think that’s your only reason for being here.” Or even his main reason for coming back to Cutler. “How long do you plan to stay?”

  “Why do you ask?” Douglas said with a laugh. “Are you going to kick me out?”

  “No.” Fred pulled in a deep breath and tried again. “You’re always welcome at home. But I’ve known you all your life and I know the way you think. Something’s going on that you’re not telling me.”

  With a shrug, Douglas leaned back in his chair and a pained look of resignation crossed his face. “All right. What would you think if I told you I was coming home for good?”

  Fred nearly fell off his chair in surprise. “To Cutler?”

  “Yeah. I miss it here.”

  Now Fred knew something wasn’t right. “What about your job?”

  “I’ll find another one. Look, Dad, I’m fed up with all the competition, the dog-eat-dog mentality out there. I’m not cut out to spend my life clawing my way up some corporate ladder.”

  That much was true, but even when Douglas put his job instability down to career decisions, the real story lay somewhere else. Fred felt his face settling into lines of disbelief. “Do you think that’s smart?”

  “I don’t know.” Another casual shrug. “But it’s the only chance I have of being near Alison—and Suzanne.”

  And Suzanne? Just a few hours ago, Douglas had been blaming her for Alison’s strained response to him. Now he wanted to be close to her? Fred took another sip of coffee, trying to find patience with his son. “If I were you, I’d take some time to think this over. You shouldn’t just walk away from a decent job.”

  “It’s a decent job,” Douglas said, “but it’s not what I want to do with the rest of my life.”

  Fred had heard that from Douglas a time or two. Everyone who knew Douglas had heard it. It’s what had finally driven Suzanne to leave him. And now Douglas was ready to uproot himself and do the same thing all over again, as if somehow he’d impress her this time.

  “You’d better figure out what you do want before you make another move,” Fred warned. “You’re not in any position to just walk away from another job and start over again.”

  Douglas fiddled with the handle of his cup, refusing to make eye contact. “It’s a little late for that.”

  Fred’s heart dropped to the floor. “You already quit?”

  Douglas nodded.

  For Pete’s sake! What was he thinking? “And you didn’t say anything about it before now?”

  Looking defensive, Douglas met Fred’s gaze. “I knew what you’d say.”

  Damn right, Fred thought. They’d argued about this many times before, though obviously nothing Fred said had made a speck of difference to the boy. Clutching the edge of the table, he drew a steadying breath and waited several seconds before he spoke again. “Just how do you plan to get by?”

  “Well, I . . . I don’t have any savings. I mean, with the divorce and child support . . .” Douglas’s voice trailed away.

  “So you’re planning to stay at home?” Fred lifted his cup again, pleased that he’d maintained enough control to keep his fingers from shaking. “Well, I won’t turn you away,” he continued, “no matter what I think of your decision. But you’re going to have to do something to support yourself while you’re here. No free rides.”

  Douglas tried to smile. “Yeah, well, that goes without saying. I’ve already put out a few feelers.”

  “In Cutler? What do you expect to find here?”

  “Like you said, Cutler’s growing. It’s going to come out of the dark ages yet. And I—” Douglas stopped abruptly and his face darkened at something he saw over Fred’s shoulder.

  Twisting slightly, Fred checked behind him. At a small table in a dimly lit corner of the restaurant, a man leaned toward a female companion. Tall, dark, and only slightly stockier than he’d been as a boy, Garrett Locke cut an i
mpressive figure. But, then, he’d always been good-looking, and a ladies’ man.

  Fred glanced back at Douglas. “Did I tell you that Garrett’s running Locke’s furniture now? He came back home after Richard had his stroke last year.”

  “You mean he’s living in Cutler again?” Douglas’s face contorted.

  “Built himself a place out on the highway, on the road to Estes Park.” Fred had almost forgotten how much Douglas disliked Garrett. Still, after nearly twenty years, he’d have thought the rivalry would have faded.

  Douglas waved a hand at the table. “How long has this been going on?”

  “What?”

  “Don’t you see who’s with him?”

  Fred looked again, leaning slightly to get a better view of Garrett’s companion. Small, dark, shoulder-length brown hair. Damn! It couldn’t be anyone else. “Suzanne and Garrett? I haven’t heard a thing—”

  Douglas shot to his feet. “Well, I’m going to put a stop to it right now.”

  Fred put a restraining hand on the boy’s arm. “I think you’d better sit down son.”

  “Like hell I will. Look at them. Look at the way he’s touching her—”

  “Sit back down,” Fred interrupted sternly.

  “—like they never left off. Maybe they never did.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You and Suzanne were living a thousand miles away.”

  Douglas sent him an angry look, shook off his hand, and strode across the room. As he passed each table, diners stopped eating and watched. Most of the faces belonged to long-time Cutler residents. Most of them probably remembered the way Douglas and Garrett had acted over Suzanne years ago.

  Desperate to stop Douglas from doing something he’d regret, Fred pushed away from the table and stretched his aching knees to get them working. He couldn’t sit back and do nothing while Douglas embarrassed himself.

  He’d made it only halfway across the room when the sound of angry voices cut through the near-silence. Ignoring the curious glances of the other diners, Fred reached Douglas’s side just as Garrett jumped up.

  “You’re a loser Doug. Always have been and always will be.”

  “Me? At least I’m not trying to take over another man’s family. I’m telling you, Garrett, stay away from my wife and stay away from my daughter.”

  Fred groaned. Now that ought to go over real well with Suzanne.

  Just as he’d expected, Suzanne’s face colored and her eyes snapped. “Oh, stop it, Doug. I’m not your wife anymore.”

  With a wave of his hand, Douglas dismissed her protest. “You know what I mean. Just stay away from this guy. He’s bad news.”

  “Don’t you dare come in here and start telling me what to do.” Suzanne snatched her purse from the seat beside her. “Get me out of here Garrett. I’ve lost my appetite.”

  “Of course.” Garrett smirked, looking smug and confident, the exact opposite of Douglas at that moment.

  As Suzanne brushed past him, Douglas grabbed her arm and pulled her around to face him. “Don’t go with him.”

  “Let go of me.” As it always did when she got angry, Suzanne’s voice tightened and rose a couple of notes—and a look of pure venom filled her eyes.

  Fred had never been one to interfere in the lives of his children. He believed they could learn best by trying and failing and trying again. But every once in a while, one of them did something so stupid he couldn’t help but step in.

  Laying a hand on Douglas’s arm, Fred tried to draw the boy away. “Come on, son, we’re going home.”

  Again, Douglas shook him off. “Stay out of this Dad.”

  Suzanne shrugged out of Douglas’s grasp and headed for the door. With a final glare, Garrett followed, tossing a couple of bills on the table on his way out.

  Fred smothered a sigh of relief and muttered, “Let’s give them a minute before we leave.”

  “I don’t intend to give Garrett Locke ten seconds alone with Suzanne.” Douglas pushed roughly past Fred and hit the door at a trot, disappearing into the night.

  That boy didn’t have an ounce of patience, Fred thought. His temper flared at the drop of a hat. Phoebe used to say that the trouble between Fred and Douglas was that they were too much alike; but to this day, Fred couldn’t see where she’d gotten that notion.

  He grabbed his coat from the rack near the door and followed the trio outside. The cold air bit through his shirt and pants, but he didn’t have time to think about the chill. The sound of raised voices guided him through the maze of cars to Garrett’s black Audi just as Garrett shoved Douglas away with both hands.

  Douglas stumbled, regained his footing, and lunged at Garrett, catching him on the jaw with his fist.

  Slightly dazed, Garrett responded slowly, and before he recovered completely, Douglas landed another blow; but neither did more than stun Garrett.

  The two men squared off like a couple of bantam roosters, eying each other warily. Taking advantage of the momentary lull, Fred pushed in between them and hoped neither would take a punch before they realized he was there.

  “Now listen, you two, this has gone far enough. Garrett, get in your car and take Suzanne home.” Fred grabbed his son by the shoulders and ordered, “Douglas, you come with me.”

  Douglas tried to shake him off. “I’m not letting him go with her alone.”

  This time, Fred held on. “You’re acting like a couple of schoolboys. Why Suzanne would want a thing to do with either of you is beyond me, but you’re not taking this any further tonight.” He glared at Garrett and Suzanne, who hadn’t moved. “Go on, you two. Get out of here.”

  Smiling as if he’d won this round, Garrett took Suzanne by the arm and led her to the car. Even that simple gesture set Douglas off again. “This isn’t over, Garrett. Not by a long shot!”

  Fred put everything he had into spinning the boy around and then firmly guided him toward the Buick at the other end of the parking lot.

  Douglas struggled against Fred’s hold on him, twisting back toward the Audi. “You lay a hand on her and I’ll kill you!”

  “For Pete’s sake, Douglas, shut up!” They’d only been outside for a few minutes, but already a small crowd had gathered near the door of the restaurant. Fred recognized Milton Gold. Nanette Whitaker and that fellow from Winter Park she’d been seeing lately. Albán Toth stood in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest and a scowl tightening his broad features. Bill and Janice Lacey peered over his shoulder and Fred groaned aloud. Wonderful. With Janice here, everybody in the county would know about this before sunup.

  Fred couldn’t help wishing Suzanne had been a little more discreet. Surely she knew Douglas would immediately head for the most popular place around. Wouldn’t you think she’d try to avoid him? Unless she wanted to cause trouble.

  Once they were inside the car, Fred settled himself behind the steering wheel and turned the key. Purred like a kitten, even in this cold. His habit of starting the car three times a week just to keep it working well had paid off in the long run.

  He drove home slowly, watching for black ice and giving Douglas a chance to calm down. By the time they reached Lake Front Drive, Douglas’s breathing had slowed to almost normal.

  Fred turned into his driveway and slowly brought the car into the garage before asking, “You settled down now?”

  “I’m fine,” Douglas snapped. “Don’t worry about it.” The boy flung himself out of the car and slammed the door behind him.

  Fred closed his own door more carefully and searched his key ring for the key to the back door. “I sure hope there was more going on back there than a little jealousy over Suzanne having dinner with Garrett. If that’s all it was, you made a mighty big fool of yourself in front of half the town—and over nothing.”

  Douglas glared at him; but Douglas always pouted when things didn’t go his way. Fred flipped the last key over and started back through the ring.

  Douglas shoved out his hand. “Let me see the keys.”

  �
�I’m perfectly capable of finding the key to my own house.” Fred proved himself by finding the key. He squinted in the half-light to make sure he had the right one and then carefully fitted it into the lock. “I think we ought to get back to this idea of hours,” he said as he stepped into the house.

  “Which idea?”

  “The one about coming home.”

  Douglas threw up his hands. “Now I suppose you’re going to say I shouldn’t do it.”

  Actually, that’s exactly what Fred had been planning to say, but the look on Douglas’s face stopped him. “No . . .”

  “Try to understand how I feel, Dad. I’ve lost my wife and my daughter. If I come home, at least I’ll get to see Alison once in a while, even if Suzanne and I can’t work things out.”

  “Which you probably won’t after tonight. What on earth got into you?”

  Douglas made an angry noise in his throat. “She doesn’t have any idea who she’s playing around with.”

  “She’s a grown woman,” Fred reminded him.

  Douglas snorted and started to take off his coat.

  “She can make her own decisions,” Fred said. “You’re not in a position to give her advice. Heaven knows that’s not wise when you’re married. But after a divorce . . . ?”

  “You just don’t get it, do you?” Reversing his actions, Douglas jammed his arms back into his sleeves.

  “No, I guess I don’t.”

  “All right. I was jealous tonight. I can’t stand the thought of Suzanne with anybody else—especially that jerk. Did you see her face?” A spasm of anger and jealousy twisted Douglas’s features. “And he sat there like the lord of the manor—just like always. She couldn’t wait to get back together with him. The ink’s barely dry on our divorce decree, and she’s practically sitting on his lap. You can’t imagine how it made me feel to see them together. I’d like to smash his smug face in, that’s how much I hate him.”

  “You need to calm down, Douglas. Take your coat off and—”

  “I can’t.” Douglas stomped across the room hard enough to rattle the windows and turned back at the door. “I’m getting out of here. Maybe if I take a walk I’ll cool down.” He wrenched open the door. “Don’t wait up.”