Deadly Notions (29 page)

“I didn’t make everything up. I really didn’t. Someone
did
follow me in the parking lot and someone
did
call the inn asking what room I was in. That was all real. It really was. I guess I just liked having Milo coming to my rescue. It made me realize, even more, how foolish I was to let him go in the first place.” Blinking against the tears she was doing a lousy job of hiding, Beth tightened her left hand around her leather portfolio and shifted from foot to foot. “I know, after what I’ve done, he’ll never look at me
that
way again, but I don’t want him to hate me. I really don’t.”

“Give him time, Beth.” She knew it was a lame suggestion, but it was all she could think to say. Especially in light of the fact she couldn’t answer for Milo. Any permanent damage Beth had done was between them and them alone.

“Give him time,” Beth repeated in a whisper as she reached for her rolling suitcase. “I guess I owe him that.”

The bell over the door jingled once again, its quick melodic burst signaling the arrival of yet another familiar face.

Regina Murphy.

She raised her hand in a greeting only to pull it back down to the table as Regina headed straight for the counter, the woman’s hurried pace preventing her from noticing anyone, including Tori.

“Well, I better get going. It’s been a long day.”

Tori stepped off her stool and held her hand in Beth’s direction. “I wish you luck with your company, I really do.”

A hint of crimson spread its way across Beth’s cheeks. “I can see why Milo likes you. You’re always so nice.”

“I try.”

Beth lowered her voice to a near whisper as their hands met. “Please tell Milo I’m sorry. And if he wants to tell me off, I’ll be at the inn again tonight before heading back home in the morning.”

“I’ll let him know.”

And with that, Beth was gone, her suitcase bumping along behind her as she left the bakery and headed down the sidewalk.

“Well, I better get going, too. Kayla is waiting anxiously for her treat.” Samantha slid down off her stool and headed over to the counter to stand in line behind Regina. For a moment, Tori simply watched them, her mind wrestling with the irony. Both women had been connected to the victim—one as a mortal enemy, the other as a friend. Or, at the very least, a boss.

A flash of movement jarred her focus to the left, tugging her lips upward in the process. There, sitting underneath one of the tables, was Jackson Calhoun, his dark brown hair groomed neatly to the side save for the little ducktail that stood up in the back no matter what his mother did.

“Jackson? What are you doing?”

The little boy pushed off the ground and ran over. “Hi there, Miss Sinclair! Hi, Mrs. Morgan! Mommy didn’t tell me you were here!”

“Well, we’re here, aren’t we, Nina?” She winked a smile at her assistant. “Only we decided to sit at the table instead of on the floor.”

“I like that better, too. The floor can be kind of yucky.” Jackson scrunched up his face in disgust. “People drop all sorts of things on the floor. Even pictures.” His hand shot upward to reveal a crumbled piece of pink paper.

Pushing his tongue forward in concentration, Jackson unfolded the paper and set it on the table. “Mrs. Abbott wouldn’t like this picture very much.”

“Mrs. Abbott? That’s the art teacher at your school, right?” She leaned forward for a closer look. “Why wouldn’t she like your drawing?”

“It’s not my drawing. I just found it is all.” Jackson scrunched one eye closed and aimed his finger in the direction of Beth’s old table. “Right there, under that table.”

“Then make sure you wash your hands after you throw it away. Especially if you picked it up off the ground.”

“I will. I promise.” He raked his hand over the picture, crumbling it into a ball in the process. “Mrs. Abbott taught me how to draw better people anyway. She said stick people are for mommies and daddies who don’t know how to draw.”

There were times when giving a person space was advisable. And perhaps now was one of those times. But that would mean listening to her head instead of her heart and her heart was talking far louder at that particular moment.

Which is why Tori was sitting in her car outside Milo’s house instead of heading home as she’d told Nina.

It wasn’t that she’d lied, because she hadn’t. She’d truly intended to go home after they left the bakery. She’d even steered her car in that direction. But when she was just two driveways from home, she’d turned around, her destination suddenly clear.

Milo was upset, of that she was certain. But he hadn’t done anything wrong. In fact, he’d done everything right. He’d given an old friend the benefit of the doubt because experience had given him reason to do just that.

It was easy for Tori and Debbie and everyone else to see Beth’s ulterior motives because there was no history to counteract the truth—a fact that had put them at an advantage and Milo at a distinct disadvantage.

She looked up at his house, her eyes drawn to the room on the far left-hand side. It wasn’t hard to imagine what he was doing—his long, lean body stretched across his bed while he stared at the ceiling in thought. She’d seen it many times—in the park, on her couch, outside the library . . .

It was his favorite position for contemplating life.

Pulling back on the recessed handle, she pushed the driver’s side door open and stepped onto the road, the butterflies in her stomach beginning to flap their wings. For over a year now, she’d felt that flutter every time she saw Milo.

And she knew why.

She squared her shoulders and marched up to his front door, her desire to see him all but squashing the nerves that had threatened to make her heed the notion of space. When she reached the top step, she lifted her fist to the door and knocked.

Then she knocked a little louder.

A light went on in the hallway followed by a flash of Milo’s form as he rounded the corner and peeked outside.

“I had to come back.”

His eyes fixed on hers through the screen door as a slow, albeit shy smile pulled his mouth upward. “I’m glad you did.”

She forced herself to remain rooted to the porch, the voices that had preached space growing louder in her head.

“I’m sorry about what happened earlier. I really am. If I’d known any of that was going to happen the way it did, I would have waited to call Nina.”

He pushed the door open and reached for her, wrapping his hand around her forearm and gently tugging her inside. “Why? So I could have continued being a blind idiot even longer?”

She stepped aside as he closed the door then trailed him into the living room and over to their favorite couch, the slight slump of his shoulders reminding her heart why she was there. “Giving an old friend the benefit of the doubt doesn’t make you an idiot. It makes you special. Rare, even. And I suspect it’s one of the many reasons a woman would track you down after fourteen years in the hopes of rekindling something long gone.”

“I wish she hadn’t.”

Bending her leg at the knee, she dropped onto the couch beside him. “You shouldn’t. You had fun catching up with her, didn’t you?”

He shrugged. “It was okay, I guess.”

“You laughed together, right?”

A secondary shrug segued into a nod. “Some, yeah. But you make me laugh all the time.”

She leaned into the back of the couch, her gaze locked on his. “True. And you make me laugh, too. But sometimes it’s nice to revisit a point in history that had its share of memories, too. And you guys had memories together.”

“Memories I’m starting to question.”

“Why?”

“Because no one changes that much and that drastically. That manipulative side had to have been there somewhere even back then, right?”

His words looped their way through her thoughts as she considered their merits. “Maybe. But maybe stuff has happened in her life over the past decade that’s made her desperate. Less secure. And by reaching out to you she was trying to reach for something about her that was long gone as well.”

“By lying?”

It was her turn to shrug. “That, I can’t explain. All I know is what I’ve lived. And two years ago I thought I’d found someone who could make me happy. I gave him love and trust and loyalty only to have him toss it back in my face with a big old side order of humiliation to boot.”

She braced herself against his chest as he tried to pull her close. “Wait. I need to say this. So when I moved here, my eyes were jaded. The last thing I wanted was to find someone who could, potentially, break my heart all over again.”

“I would never do that to you.”

“I know. And that’s because I’ve found a man with honor and integrity—rare things in today’s world. Which is something, I suspect, Beth discovered in the time that’s passed since college.”

He cocked his head to the left and studied her closely. “Go on.”

“See, she had the rare thing from the start and opted to let it go because she naively assumed it was an easy thing to find. Life showed her otherwise.”

“And that made her lie to get it back?”

“No. The
desperation
made her lie.”

Silence blanketed the room as he propped his feet on the coffee table and drew his hands up to cradle his head. She considered the notion of saying more, of highlighting some of the things Beth had done to back up what she was saying, but she opted, instead, to let the words she’d already said be enough.

Milo was a smart man.

When he finally spoke, his voice was its normal reflective self. “Do you think I was too hard on her?”

“I can’t answer that. I wasn’t in your shoes. I was only in mine. And mine have been a little uncertain as of late.”

He pulled his left arm down and wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling her close. “I hope you know that despite my desire to revisit some fond memories and to spend a little time catching up with Beth, I never had any desire to rekindle our past relationship. I’d be a fool—an even bigger one than I’ve been these last few days—to ever let you go.”

She nestled into the crook of his arm as he continued, his chin bobbing up and down on the top of her head as he spoke. “I, too, have seen what’s out there. I’ve dated women like Beth. I married Celia only to stumble around aimlessly after her death. And after all those experiences, I can truly say I found the proverbial diamond in the rough.”

Blinking against the tears his words created, she snuggled still closer, the warmth of his nearness giving her the courage to speak. “Then I guess we’re meant to be because I, too, found a diamond.”

His face paled. “You did?”

Shifting back, she smiled up at him. “Of course I did. I found you, didn’t I?”

“I guess you did.”

She lifted her lips to meet his, the feel of his skin against hers giving her the courage to say what still needed to be said. “Milo?”

“Mmmm?”

“Beth asked me to tell you that she’s back at the inn for the night. In case you—in case you’d like to talk to her.”

He pushed off the couch then reached for her hand, tugging her upward and toward the kitchen. “That’s great, but no. I’ve seen and heard enough of Beth Samuelson for a lifetime. It’s best if she gets back to focusing completely on her career.”

Her career.

She followed him down the hallway and into the kitchen, her feet guided forward by the lingering smell of a beef stew that had gone uneaten. “Any chance I could get a bowl?”

“Of stew?”

“Sure. Seems a shame to let it go to waste seeing as how it’s your favorite and all.”

Grabbing two bowls from the pantry, he made his way over to the Crock-Pot. “Can I let you in on a little secret?”

“Of course.” She watched as he lifted the lid from the Crock-Pot and spooned its contents into each of the ceramic bowls he’d set on the counter.

“Beef stew isn’t my favorite. Never was.”

She took the bowl from his outstretched hand and carried it over to the table with Milo close on her heels. “Then why did she say it was?”

“Because it’s the only thing she knew how to make and she never inquired otherwise.”

“Oh. I see.” They sat across from one another at the Formica table, Beth’s sticky notes still scattered here and there. “Well, at least she could draw.”

Milo paused his stew-laden spoon just shy of his mouth. “Draw?”

She nodded. “That’s a talent few people have.”

He popped the stew into his mouth and swallowed. “Including Beth.”

“I don’t understand.”

Setting his spoon beside his bowl he reached for the pink sticky note that had claimed Tori’s attention less than three hours earlier, the runway of stick people bringing a familiar smile to her face. “This is about the extent of Beth’s drawing ability. And even this is an improvement from what she could do when I knew her.”