Trinity Harbor 3 - Along Came Trouble (27 page)

“Be sure to tel Daisy your conclusions about Mary Elizabeth,” Tucker said. “That wil make her day.”

“I think I’l save that til after dessert, if you don’t mind. I want to eat my dinner, not wear it.”

Liz answered the door just before six and found Tucker on the porch. It took al of her wil power not to throw herself straight into his arms. She studied his somber expression, but for the life of her she couldn’t read it.

“You found out something, didn’t you?”

He nodded, shifting uncomfortably. “You want to come out here and talk about it?”

Liz shook her head. “The breeze is nicer out back, and I’ve just made some lemonade. I’l pour you a glass on the way.”

“Fine.”

“Just tel me this,” she said, scanning his face. “Is it good news or bad?”

“Promising,” he said.

She clung to that as she led the way into the kitchen, fixed his lemonade with an extra scoop of sugar the way he liked it, then handed the ice-cold drink to him.

Outside, she returned to her seat on an old-fashioned glider, then watched in amusement as Tucker struggled to decide whether to join her there or sit in one of the nearby rockers. To her disappointment, he chose a rocker, then gazed out over the rol ing lawn toward the river.

“It’s a peaceful night,” he said.

“It won’t be if you don’t tel me what you found out,” Liz said with a hint of exasperation.

Her comment drew a grin from him. “Okay, here’s the most important thing. Walker’s final y coming around. He admitted that he has doubts about you being the person who kil ed Chandler.”

Liz wasn’t nearly as astonished by that as Tucker seemed to be. “He’s a sensible man, so I expected that,” she said. “But you evidently didn’t.”

“I’l be honest, Liz. I don’t trust my judgment where you’re concerned.”

“Wel , that’s certainly blunt enough,” she said, not sure why it hurt so much to have his low opinion of her confirmed.

“I’m sorry.”

“I wish you’d believed in me without waiting for a man who doesn’t even know me to validate your opinion. No one on earth knows me better than you do. How can you not know that I’m incapable of murdering someone?”

“I do believe that,” he said fiercely. “But there was a time when I believed in your love, too.”

The bitter comment hit its target. “And I
did
love you,” she said. “Not that I expect you to believe that. And if I’m being perfectly honest with myself, I can’t real y blame you. It just…” She met his gaze. “It makes my heart ache.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I.” She forced aside the anguish. “You said that was only part of the news. What’s the rest?”

As he described Walker’s interview with Cynthia Miles, Liz’s pulse began to race. “Selena Velez,” she whispered at last. “It has to be. I knew they were involved. I could always tel , but she was always so unfailingly sweet and sympathetic to me that in her case I brushed my suspicions aside.”

“Are you talking about his personal assistant at the firm?” Tucker asked.

“Yes. And it wouldn’t surprise me one bit if she was the one who planted Cynthia’s letters in the safe, knowing I’d find them and send the police off after her.” She regarded Tucker with excitement. “Does it help that we know who it is? Can you interview her?”

“No,” he said at once. “I promised Walker I’d let him handle this. We don’t want to do anything to scare her off.” He eyed her with worry. “You said she was always nice to you. Did you ever get any indication at al that she had a temper or a dark side of any kind?”

“No, why? Do you think she might not be the one, after al ?”

“No, I just want to be sure she’s not likely to come after you once she realizes the police no longer suspect you.”

“If she is guilty, isn’t it more likely that this was a crime of passion, something she did on the spur of the moment?” Liz asked. “I can’t see her committing a premeditated murder, any more than I could.”

“Unless Larry kept guns in the house, which we know he didn’t, she—or whoever the real kil er was—came down here with a loaded gun with one purpose in mind,” Tucker reminded her. “To kil your husband.”

Liz shuddered.

“Just be on guard if she cal s or shows up, Mary Elizabeth. We don’t know if she’s guilty, but I don’t want you taking any unnecessary chances.”

“Maybe you should move in to protect me,” she suggested, only partial y in jest.

His gaze turned dark. “And who’d protect you from me?”

“Maybe I don’t want to be protected from you,” she said, keeping her gaze even with his.

The evening air seemed to crackle with electricity, though there was no sign of lightning in the sky. For an instant, Liz thought she might have cut through his careful y crafted resolve, but then he stood up and set his drink down on the table.

“I need to get home,” he said.

“Somebody waiting?” she inquired sweetly.

He frowned at her. “No, Mary Elizabeth.”

“Then stay for dinner, at least. I hate eating alone.”

He hesitated, then shook his head. “Bad idea.”

“Don’t think you can keep your hands to yourself, Sheriff?”

“I know I can’t,” he responded. “And until this investigation is over and your name is formal y cleared, I am not going to touch you again.”

“Because you don’t want to be romantical y linked to a suspected murderer?”

“No, dammit, because people talk, and it won’t win you any friends here in Trinity Harbor if it seems you’re turning to another man this soon after your husband’s death. Not everyone knows Chandler was cheating on you. Not everyone knows you were planning to divorce him. Al they’l see is that you’re being awful y quick to jump in the sack with someone new.”

“Not new,” she reminded him.

“You know what I meant.”

“Okay, let me read between the lines here,” she said. “You’re not saying never, correct?”

Tucker sighed heavily, as if his regrets were too many to be counted. “No, I am not saying never.”

A slow smile spread across her face. “I can live with that,” she said. Maybe Anna-Louise was right, after al . Maybe there real y was reason to hope for a future with Tucker. She met Tucker’s gaze, then added, “For the time being, anyway.”

A grin touched Tucker’s lips, then vanished. “Trying to motivate me to get this case solved in a hurry, Liz?”

“You bet,” she said without hesitation. “I want to get back to living my life, not sitting on the sidelines and watching it pass me by. How about you?”

His gaze met hers and held it. Once more the air crackled with electricity.

“No comment,” he said eventual y.

She laughed. “Chicken.”

“No, darlin’. I’ve known you a long time. If I give you an inch, you’l take a mile, and the next thing I know you and I wil be inside and in bed, living in the moment and saying to hel with everybody else.”

“Would that be so awful?”

“That depends. You intending to stick around Trinity Harbor?”

She nodded.

“Then it would be a disaster,” he said flatly.

Much as Liz wanted to argue, she knew he was right. Rushing into something with Tucker right now would only stir up more trouble for both of them.

“Do you know how annoying it is to have to admit you’re right about everything?” she groused.

“Oh, I’ve been wrong a time or two,” Tucker said, then grinned. “Just not in recent memory.”

“Go home, Tucker.”

He laughed at that. “See, I knew I could bring you around to my way of thinking. You’re actual y kicking me out now. That’s good,” he said approvingly as he stood up and went inside.

Liz frowned at him, but she fol owed him to the front door. To her astonishment, he leaned down and pressed a hard, unforgettable kiss to her lips before jogging off into the night.

“Sweet dreams,” he cal ed back as he climbed into his car.

Liz touched a finger to her burning lips. Sweet dreams, indeed. She’d be lucky if she slept a wink.

17

S
itting on the back patio at Swan Ridge, sipping lemonade and talking over his day with Mary Elizabeth was just a little too much like old times for Tucker’s comfort. The only things missing were the soft, lingering kisses, stolen whenever her grandfather’s watchful gaze was turned the other way. And as Tucker had told Mary Elizabeth very firmly, he did not intend to lay a hand on her until the matter of her husband’s death was resolved.

Okay, five seconds later he’d broken his own vow, but that momentary lapse on his way out the door never should have happened. That was twice now he’d lost his head, which just went to prove that he couldn’t trust himself around her. Steering clear of her entirely was definitely the way to go, much as they both might hate it.

It had nothing to do with respect for the dearly departed or the ritual mourning period. He simply was not going to stir up idle gossip that could hurt her, or risk having his heart broken a second time by the discovery that Mary Elizabeth had been merely using him—or his expertise, at any rate—to keep herself out of jail. He felt better on that score after learning today that even his skeptical, consummate professional brother-in-law had doubts about her guilt, but Tucker stil wasn’t wil ing to take any chances.

That was why he’d made sure he bolted from Swan Ridge before the sky turned dark and fil ed with stars, before the silvery al ure of the moon on the river fil ed the night with memories. It was getting harder and harder, though, to tear himself away from her.

But after he had—and thanks to that il -advised kiss goodbye—his nerves were jumbled and he was far too restless to go straight home. He drove into town, walked along the boardwalk that his brother and Jenna had designed and developed, and mingled with the crowd of summer tourists. He bought a corn dog and a grape snow cone, sat on a bench where he could hear the music of Bobby’s infamous antique merry-go-round and pretended that times were simpler.

While he was sitting there, he was acknowledged by half the people who passed. If their friendly greetings were indicative—and contrary to his father’s fears—the locals didn’t seem al that disturbed about his decision to remove himself from the Chandler case. There were no speculative glances, no obvious whispered comments, once they’d strol ed by. In fact, he felt reassured by their outward acceptance. Whatever reservations they’d had on first hearing the news, they were apparently getting past it. It reminded him that one of the reasons he’d chosen to stay in Trinity Harbor was the sense of community and belonging. This was Spencer territory, despite the newcomers who were slowly changing the town from a sleepy rural vil age to a unique summer retreat.

He wondered if Mary Elizabeth would find the new Trinity Harbor more to her liking. In the old days she had been tempted by bright lights and glamour. She had chafed at his refusal to compromise and relocate to a big city. Would she be any more eager to stay here now? he wondered. Was he setting himself up for even more disappointment by believing she had changed, that her coming back here now was about more than her disenchantment with her marriage?

Pondering such unanswerable questions was one reason it was pitch-dark by the time he final y got home. That was no doubt why he didn’t notice the cars in front of his house, that and the fact that his head was fil ed with thoughts of Mary Elizabeth and just how desperately he wanted her, despite—or perhaps because of—his resolve to do nothing about it.

“Getting in a little late, aren’t you, son?”

Tucker’s heart thumped unsteadily at the unexpected sound of King’s voice cutting through the stil , sultry August air. It carried him back to his teens, when King had often waited in the shadows of the porch at Cedar Hil until the last of his children wandered in past curfew. He was no less defensive now, but he held his tongue and settled for a nonconfrontational response.

“Daddy, what brings you by?” he inquired mildly.

As if he didn’t know. Tucker cast a quick glance back toward the street and noted the lineup of cars he’d missed before. Daisy’s and Bobby’s were there plain as day, as wel . King had obviously mustered his troops and planned on a ful -scale assault. Tucker had been warned about this, but he’d hoped by now that King had moved on to other things. He should have known better.

“Does a man have to make an appointment to see his own son?” King asked, sounding cranky. Before Tucker could say a word, he answered his own question. “Apparently so, since I’ve been hanging around here just about every night for the past week or so. Where the devil have you been keeping yourself til al hours?”

“I’ve been busy,” Tucker said, final y drawing close enough to see the enemy. King was looking rather pleased with himself at having caught Tucker off-guard. Daisy and Bobby were keeping their expressions determinedly neutral. “So, where are Walker and Jenna? I’m sure they’d like to add their two cents to this family discussion.”

“Walker’s at the station,” Daisy offered. “He said he’s not getting involved in your personal business.”

Tucker grinned at her obvious exasperation. “Is that so? That must be driving you crazy. Did he also happen to mention his new theory about Mary Elizabeth?”

“If you’re referring to his gut feeling that she’s not guilty, he told me,” Daisy said. “I’l wait for him to actual y arrest somebody else before I buy that, if it’s al the same to the two of you.”

“Damn, but you’re hardheaded, sis,” Tucker said. “Give the poor woman a break.”

“Why should I?” Daisy asked with a touch of defiance.

“Because you were as close as sisters once,” Tucker reminded her, then added softly, “and because I asked you to.”

“Only because you’re not thinking straight,” King said.

“That’s a matter of opinion,” Tucker responded. “So, whose idea was this ambush? Yours, Daisy? You didn’t get your fil of bugging me this morning? Daddy usual y prefers to schedule this sort of thing for his own turf.”

“Don’t blame any of this on your sister,” King scolded. “It’s your doing and nobody else’s that al of us are out later than we’d like to be.”

“Then go home,” Tucker suggested. “I can live without having this conversation. You’ve said it al before anyway.”