About That Man

by Sherryl Woods

  “What people, I’d like to know? One or two people who’ve always had it in for the Spencers, I imagine.”

  “I’m not about to name names, but enough have come to me and the others that the board has to ask questions. Frankly, I’m amazed that Social Services hasn’t taken that child away from her. You using your influence with Frances to stop that?”

  King sputtered, filled with indignation, then got control of his temper. It wouldn’t help the situation. “You ask your questions,” he said slowly and evenly. “Then I’ve got a few of my own that I intend to ask. We’ll start with your affair with that woman over in Kinsale.”

  “I never…” Dave said.

  He sounded shaken, which was exactly the way King wanted him. “You were over there every Saturday night, weren’t you? Till all hours?” He went on. “And there’s the time Maureen went off to Atlanta with that fellow from Richmond.”

  “That was her cousin,” the man said, on the defensive all of a sudden now that the tables had been turned. “King, you know that.”

  “Do I? Appearances can be mighty deceiving, can’t they? Think about that before you start slinging mud on my daughter’s reputation, okay? Think long and hard about it.” He slammed the phone down with satisfaction. “That ought to do it.”

  He caught Frances and Anna-Louise exchanging a look. “What?” he asked.

  “Was Dave Higgins really having an affair?” Frances asked, her expression shocked.

  King chuckled. “Who would have him? Even his own wife took off.”

  “But you said—”

  “I said that things could look a certain way without being true. Now will you two go on and get out of here? I have things to do.”

  “What things?” Anna-Louise asked suspiciously.

  “I’m going to go hire me a moving van and get that boy out of that house before there’s a ruckus I can’t solve.”

  “Daisy’s going to object,” Anna-Louise warned.

  “You think I don’t know that? That’s how this mess came to be in the first place. This time I’m not asking or suggesting. I’m going to make it happen.”

  “With Walker on these nighttime stakeouts, Tommy can’t be left alone,” Frances warned. “I’d have to step in.”

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake, I’m not going to put him on the street,” King snapped. “I’ll move him and Walker in here.” He shook his head. “Never thought I’d see the day I’d have a damn Yankee sleeping under this roof.”

  Frances suddenly began to chuckle and couldn’t stop. “Oh, King,” she murmured between guffaws.

  He and Anna-Louise stared at her. Frances wasn’t a woman prone to giggles.

  “What?” Anna-Louise asked eventually.

  “Walker’s no more Yankee than you or I,” Frances said. “He was born in Richmond. I have it right in my report. Talk about appearances being deceiving. I guess this one’s on you.” She erupted into laughter once again.

  King took the ribbing in stride, but his thoughts turned speculative. If Walker wasn’t a Yankee after all, then maybe he’d been handling this all wrong. There wasn’t a Southern gentleman on earth who wouldn’t come to a lady’s rescue. He’d tried the marriage ploy on Walker once before to no avail, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t worth a second try, not with Daisy’s reputation—her entire life’s work—so plainly on the line.

  He sat back down. “Forget the moving van,” he announced.

  “Oh?” Anna-Louise asked, regarding him with suspicion.

  “I think maybe it’s time Walker and I had another talk.” He dialed the sheriff’s office, only to be told that Walker was out of contact for the rest of the night.

  “Then have him call me first thing in the morning,” he told the dispatcher. “Tell him it’s urgent and that I expect him here for breakfast. Eight sharp.”

  He leaned back and regarded the two women with satisfaction. “How about I take you two ladies out for a nice crab dinner at the marina? I’m feeling real good, all of a sudden.”

  “Yes, I can see that,” Anna-Louise said. “What worries me is why? What do you have up your sleeve, King?”

  “Nothing for you to trouble yourself about,” he assured her.

  “Maybe I’d better say a little prayer, just the same,” she said, her tone wry.

  “You do whatever you want. I’ve got things under control,” he replied. In fact, things just might be taking a real turn for the better.

  “How come Uncle Walker’s going fishing every night?” Tommy asked Daisy after Walker’s brief visit. She hadn’t had time to tell him anything at all about the dinner with Gary’s family because he’d had to leave for another night on the river.

  These quick, drop-in visits had been the pattern for a while now. Sometimes, when Walker could spare the time, they ate dinner, then Walker took off for work. She and Walker had agreed not to tell Tommy the full story about his surveillance since Tommy had a tendency to blab whatever he knew indiscriminately to his friends.

  “Now that he’s out of the city, I think he’s just enjoying having some time to himself,” Daisy said evasively.

  “Why can’t I go with him?”

  “Maybe one of these days he’ll take you,” she said. “In the meantime, be glad he’s on this kind of a schedule. He has more time during the day to coach your baseball team. It’ll be great having him around during the day this summer, won’t it?”

  “Yeah,” Tommy said, after giving the idea some consideration. “That’s pretty cool. I never had a dad to do stuff like this before.” He regarded her worriedly. “Uncle Walker’s almost like a dad, isn’t he?”

  “Absolutely.”

  At the time Tommy had seemed satisfied by her answers. But later that night when she stopped in Tommy’s room to check on him on her way to bed, she realized she’d been lulled into a false sense of complacency. He was missing. She knew without a doubt where he had gone, and it made her blood run cold.

  She was shaking like a leaf as she dialed Tucker, rousted him out of bed and explained what had happened. “He asked too many questions tonight. I just know he snuck on that boat. You have to get word to Walker.”

  “Calm down, Sis. Walker’s been out there night after night and nothing’s happened. There’s no reason to think tonight will be any different. I’ll call Bobby, and we’ll take his boat out to meet them and make sure everything’s okay.”

  “I’m coming with you,” she announced. “I’ll meet you at the marina.”

  When she showed up with her shotgun in tow, Tucker looked as if he might explode. “Put that damn thing back in the car. You are not bringing it along.”

  “Tucker Spencer, I’ve been shooting every bit as long as you have. I have terrific aim.”

  “Damn Daddy for ever teaching you,” he muttered. “Blast it, Daisy, you’ve been aiming at bottles on fence-posts, not human targets!”

  “Then let’s hope there are no human targets out there,” she said, taking Bobby’s outstretched hand and stepping onto his boat without another glance at Tucker.

  “What’s going on?” King demanded, arriving out of the blue and surveying the scene. “Why are you all getting ready to go out on a boat at this ungodly hour? And why does Daisy have a shotgun, for Pete’s sake?”

  “I forgot to mention that Daddy was here when you called,” Bobby said. “Dining with Frances and Anna-Louise, as a matter of fact, and looking awfully damned smug. I tried to avoid him on my way out here, but obviously his eyes are sharper than I’d thought.”

  “Great, just great,” Tucker muttered. “Go back to your dinner, Daddy. Everything’s under control.”

  Her father shot a look in her direction. “Yes, I can see that. The last person who told me things were under control almost lost her damned job.”

  “And before the night’s out, I could end up throwing her in jail,” Tucker declared ominously.

  “For what?” Daisy demanded, tired of being discussed as if she weren’t present or as if she weren’t p
erfectly capable of running her own blasted life.

  “Interfering with a police investigation, carrying a loaded weapon. I don’t know, I’ll work on the charges. I’ll make them stick, too.”

  “Daddy will love that, won’t you, Daddy?”

  “Will somebody please just tell me what in tarnation is going on?” King said. “Right now, I’ve got my whole family down here making a spectacle of themselves. If Richard gets wind of this, it’ll be in this week’s paper.”

  “How would Richard find out?” Daisy asked reasonably.

  “I did mention that Anna-Louise was dining with Daddy, didn’t I? I’m sure I did,” Bobby said, sounding more and more amused.

  Daisy scowled at him, then turned back to her father. “Okay, here’s the deal in a nutshell. Walker’s on a drug stakeout. We think Tommy snuck onto the boat to be with him. Now do you see why we can’t just stand around here talking?”

  Her father stared hard at Tucker. “Is this true? There are drugs in Trinity Harbor? Why wasn’t I told about this?”

  Daisy lost patience. “Could we dissect this later? Please, let’s just get out there before something happens to Tommy.” She faced Tucker. “Did you reach Walker?”

  “I did. And Tommy is with him. He found him hiding below deck. I think he was about to blister his nephew’s butt.”

  “If he doesn’t, I might,” Daisy said grimly. She’d never been so terrified in her life.

  At least that’s what she thought until she heard the sound of shots ringing out across the river. That was when she started to pray.

  23

  Between the fog rising off the river and the well-deserved lecture he was giving Tommy on his irresponsible behavior, Walker didn’t notice the suspicious boat easing past on his port side until it was less than a hundred yards away.

  “Tommy, go below now!” he ordered tersely, focusing his binoculars on the deck of the expensive fiberglass fishing boat. Thankfully the boy scrambled to do as he was told without a lot of questions.

  There were two men he didn’t recognize on deck, neither of whom seemed to be holding fishing rods or showing the slightest interest in the crab pots bobbing on the water. Midnight was not a likely hour for a pleasure cruise or even a fishing trip. It was an hour when someone on the water could very well be up to no good.

  He steered his boat closer, hoping for a clearer view. When only a few yards separated them, he called out, ordering them to drop anchor and prepare to be boarded. That was when the first shot came zinging straight at him, catching him in the arm. He hit the deck, reached for his rifle and took aim at the other boat’s motor, hoping to disable it. He already knew that Tucker was en route. If he could keep these jokers from running, he’d have backup in no time.

  Unfortunately, drawn by the sound of gunfire, Tommy slipped onto the deck, shouting hysterically. “What’s happening?” he cried, sliding on the slippery deck in his haste to get to Walker.

  “Go back down!” Walker shouted, trying to get between his nephew and the shooters.

  “What’s happening? Are you shot?” Tommy asked, eyes wide as he noticed the blood soaking Walker’s shirtsleeve.

  Walker had never experienced such terror in his life. He hunkered down and gazed steadily into the boy’s eyes, all too aware that he was putting his back directly into the line of fire.

  “Listen to me,” he pleaded, expecting to hear the pop of another bullet at any second, anticipating the pain of it slamming through flesh. “Calm down. I want you to go back down below and stay there until I say you can come up again. Tucker will be here any minute, and everything is going to be just fine.”

  “But—”

  “Just do it, Tommy. Please. Right now. This is no time to argue with me.”

  “But you’re hurt,” he protested, his voice catching on a sob. “I don’t want you to die like Mommy did. Please, Uncle Walker.” He dragged at Walker’s arm. “Come with me. You’ve got to. Please.”

  “I am not going to die.”

  “How do you know? They shot you. People die when they get shot, like that little girl.”

  Walker stared at him in shock. “How did you know about Keisha?”

  “I heard you and Daisy talking. She was shot and she’s dead, so you could die, too. Please don’t make me go away. Please, just come with me.”

  Walker heard the sound of the engine revving up on the other boat and cursed the missed opportunity. He had a split second to make a decision, a split second in which to choose duty over Tommy.

  But he had heard the unmistakable hysteria in Tommy’s voice, seen the panic in his eyes. Given the choice between catching a couple of two-bit drug traffickers and consoling a little boy who’d already been through way too much, there was no choice at all.

  “Come here,” he said, opening his arms to his nephew as the sound of the other boat’s engine slipped away into the fog.

  Shuddering with sobs, Tommy collapsed in his arms, clinging to Walker with all his might.

  “It’s okay, son. I’m going to be fine. The wound’s not serious. The bullet barely scraped me.”

  “But you’re bleeding,” Tommy protested.

  “It doesn’t matter. We’re going to be just fine,” Walker reassured him.

  For the first time since he’d learned of Tommy’s existence, he actually believed it.

  Of course, that was before Daisy arrived, took one look at the blood on both of them now and, after ascertaining that the blood was all Walker’s and that his injury wasn’t life-threatening, proceeded to deliver a fire-and-brimstone sermon that would have rivaled anything Anna-Louise could conjure up for Sunday morning.

  “I’m sorry,” Tommy whispered.

  He might as well have saved his breath. The apology didn’t make a dent in Daisy’s tirade. She had more to say. A lot more, apparently.

  Walker knew from experience there was no way to shut her up except to kiss her, which he did…quite thoroughly, if he did say so himself. Left him feeling downright faint, but maybe that had something to do with the loss of blood.

  Daisy shoved and wriggled and opened her mouth to protest from time to time, but Walker was persistent. Eventually, it was as if all the starch drained out of her and she melted against him, pliable and willing and maybe even a little bit frantic. Walker was pretty sure he’d never been kissed with such a wild range of emotions in his life.

  When they eventually came up for air—much too soon, to his way of thinking—four wide-eyed males were staring at them. He didn’t like the stormy look in her brothers’ eyes one bit. Even more worrisome was the speculative glint in King’s eyes.

  “Are you and Daisy gonna get married?” Tommy asked, his expression hopeful.

  “It was a kiss, Tommy. It didn’t mean a thing,” Daisy said emphatically, pushing away from Walker and dusting herself off as if she could wipe away what had happened as if it were nothing more than a sandy nuisance.

  Walker studied her pink cheeks and dazed eyes. “Didn’t it?” he asked mildly.

  “Looked pretty official to me,” King observed. “Like sealing a deal.”

  “Oh, stay out of it, Daddy,” Daisy snapped.

  Walker felt something ease inside him as the idea of marrying Daisy took a firmer grip than it had in past days. Things had been working out okay since he’d arrived in town. His feelings for Daisy had grown, not diminished. Why not just take a deep breath and go for it? For a man who prided himself on logical, careful thinking in his work, he’d been making a lot of impulsive personal decisions lately. What was one more? Especially one that felt as right as this one did.

  He met Daisy’s turbulent gaze and saw that despite the firm denials she’d uttered, she looked slightly nonplused by the entire discussion. He thought that was a good thing. She was always more agreeable when he caught her off-guard.

  “Now that we’ve been found out by your family, I think maybe we’ll have to,” Walker said, his steady gaze on King, Tucker and Bobby. Then he turned to Daisy.
“What about it?”

  She stared at him with a shocked expression that quickly turned to indignation. “Is that your idea of a proposal, Walker Ames?” she demanded.

  “What’s wrong? Not civilized enough for you?” he taunted, knowing he was going about this all wrong, but counting on family pressure to accomplish what he hadn’t.

  “Not by a long shot,” she said, scrambling away from him and back onto her brother’s boat before Walker could think to stop her.

  He glanced at Tucker and Bobby and saw that they were both grinning from ear to ear. King seemed mighty pleased with himself. He gave Tommy’s shoulder a quick, approving squeeze, as if to thank him for getting the ball rolling with his innocently asked question.

  “Looks as if you have your work cut out for you,” Bobby noted. As he followed Daisy back to the other boat, he called over his shoulder, “Come on, Daddy. Let’s leave this in Tucker’s capable hands.” His grin spread. “See you guys back at the marina.”

  Walker watched the sheriff warily. “You’re not going back with them?”

  “Oh, no,” his boss said quietly. “Seems like there are a few things you and I need to talk about.”

  “Think I’ll stick around and put in my two cents, as well,” King said, waving a dismissal at Bobby and settling into a deck chair.

  “I’m not leaving, Uncle Walker,” Tommy declared, his expression mulish.

  Walker couldn’t deny his nephew the right to stay, but the other two were a damned nuisance. “Am I the only one who noticed that there are two suspects out here on the river who are getting away, while we talk over what should be a personal matter?” Walker said, hoping to divert them.

  “Long gone,” Tucker said, then asked with little more than mild curiosity, “Did you get a decent look at them?”

  “Not really. I did see the boat, though. It wasn’t the one we’ve been watching. This was a trawler, though I didn’t see much evidence that the men on board were interested in fishing.”

  Tucker nodded. “Then we’ll get a description out when we get back to the office. In the meantime, let’s talk about just how serious you are about marrying my sister.”