Читать книгу On Her Side - Beth Andrews - Страница 12

CHAPTER FOUR

NORA’S BREATH LOCKED in her chest, made each inhalation painful. Panic-inducing. She’d wanted this moment, wanted to face this man down but now that he was here, her body was frozen, her mind numb with terror.

She couldn’t take her eyes from Dale as he slowly crossed her office, his confident stride bordering on predatory. She’d only seen his face once—a grainy photo the Chronicle ran the day after her mother’s remains were found, but there was no mistaking him.

She’d spent the past eighteen years thinking about him. Wondering what kind of man he was. Hating him. She’d expected him to be taller. Her father was tall. Tall and kind and honorable. A good, decent man who’d worked hard to support his family, who’d always taken care of them.

But her mother had still chosen this man over her husband. Over her daughters.

She’d paid for it with her life.

As a kid, Nora had always imagined Dale as some sort of monster. Huge and dark and deadly. Now she saw he was just a man. Not so huge, but still dangerous.

Despite his age—he had to be closing in on sixty—his short hair was still thick, the dark strands threaded with silver. His shoulders were wide, his waist narrow. He was handsome, she was forced to admit. With his sharply angled face and smooth-shaven jaw.

It was easy, so pathetically easy, to see why her mother had been attracted to him.

What she didn’t get, what she’d never understand, was how her mother could love him.

He stopped in front of her desk, his expression hard, his brown eyes cold. Nora’s mouth dried. Fear coated her throat. Made it impossible for her to speak, to get any words out. Words that should’ve put him on the defensive, made him wonder and worry. Made him realize he faced a worthy and formidable opponent.

All she could do was stare. And wonder if Griffin had been right.

Trust me, the best thing that could happen for everyone is for Dale to remain missing. Leave the past alone.

“If it isn’t little Nora Sullivan,” Dale said, his deep voice tinged with some accent she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Her skin crawled as his gaze drifted lazily over her face, sexual and appreciative. “All grown up, I see. I’m Dale York.”

“I know who you are,” she said, barely above a whisper. Her scalp prickled, her breathing quickened. She gripped the edge of her desk, held on when her knees threatened to buckle. “You’re the man who killed my mother.”

“Now, is that any way to greet an old friend of Valerie’s?” He winked. “I never laid a hand on her. Not unless she wanted me to.”

Her stomach churned sickeningly. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

Why had he come back to Mystic Point now, risking arrest? What kind of game was he playing by seeking her out?

“I’m here to do my civic duty.” Hitching up his dark slacks, he sat in the chair across from her, looking like a successful salesman instead of a cold-blooded killer. “I would’ve come sooner but I was out of the country and didn’t hear about Valerie’s death—and that the local police department wanted to interview me—until a few days ago. But before I talk to the new police chief, I wanted to see you. Offer my condolences on your loss.”

“You want to talk to the police?”

“Of course. I want to do anything I can to help them find out who hurt Val.” He studied her, like a fox watching a rabbit. “I never would’ve pegged you for one of Valerie’s girls,” he murmured, reclining in the chair as he linked his hands behind his head. His arms were well muscled, his biceps flexing against the sleeves of his dress shirt. “Now your sister, the cop, I knew she belonged to Val the moment I saw her. But you’re as far from your mother as light is from dark. Guess you take after your daddy. Except you didn’t take after his career, did you? Followed your uncle’s footsteps there.”

All her nerves, her fears at having her mother’s killer sitting calmly across from her, flew out of her head. He’d seen Layne? He’d been watching them?

“What do you know about my sister?” she asked hotly. “Or me?”

He smiled slowly and those nerves spiked. “You’d be surprised,” he said softly.

She covered her cell phone with her palm, feeling somehow stronger, safer having it in her hand so that she could call the police in a second if he threatened her. When in reality, all she had to do was yell and a half a dozen people would come running. Including her uncle. “You really expect anyone to believe you’re here because you want to help in my mother’s murder investigation?”

“Why else would I come back?”

She didn’t know and that was what worried her. “You won’t get away with it.”

“That so?” he asked, watching her with his hooded gaze, his damn smirk.

Realizing her knuckles were white from gripping the desk and her phone so tightly, she let go and tucked her hands behind her back. Damn it, she should be the one in charge of this conversation. Should be controlling it and keeping him on edge.

Instead she felt off balance and inadequate. And that was unacceptable. She refused to let this man, with his flat eyes and cocky grin, get the best of her. He’d taken her mother away from her and her sisters. She’d do whatever she had to in order to make him pay for that.

Pressing her lips together, she inhaled deeply and held it for the count of five. When she spoke again, she was more composed. “Yes, that’s so. Because I will do everything in my power to make sure you’re brought to justice. I won’t rest until you’re convicted of my mother’s murder.”

He didn’t even blink. “Is that a threat, baby girl?”

Her blood ran cold. Baby girl. The nickname her mother used to call her. Bastard.

“It’s a promise,” she said, hating how her voice shook, how sick she felt at the reminder that her mother had shared so much of herself with this man. “One you’ll have plenty of time to think about when you’re serving a life sentence in state prison.”

Shaking his head, he sat up. “That’s a nice fantasy you’ve spun for yourself. But it’s going to be tough for anyone to get a conviction against me when there’s no evidence connecting me to Valerie’s murder.”

“There will be.” There had to be. They had to find something, anything that would help the case against him.

“You go right on believing that,” he said as he stood. “But it’s not going to happen.”

A lump formed in her throat. Oh, God, he was right. Unless new evidence surfaced, or he confessed, the police would have no reason to arrest him, to even hold him. He’d come back because he knew the chances of him being charged with murder were slim to none at this point.

For the first time since they’d discovered the truth about what happened to her mother, Nora was afraid. Terrified Dale would walk away a free man when it was all said and done. And that there would be nothing she could do to stop that from happening.

“You’re upset,” he said in a soothing tone that made bile rise in her throat. “That’s understandable. But I didn’t come here to argue with you. I came back, voluntarily, to give my statement to the police.” He stepped forward and though her desk separated them, she jerked back, bumping into her chair. “Since it looks like I’ll be in town for a little while, maybe we’ll see each other again.”

With another of those disturbing winks, he walked away. At the still-open door he faced her. “And, baby girl? Be sure and tell your father I dropped by to see you.”

* * *

“DO YOU WANT anything else?”

As with every other time she’d stopped by Tanner’s booth during the past hour, Jessica Taylor’s gaze stayed somewhere on the wall above their heads as she spoke. She’d been polite and attentive, had made sure their glasses were always filled and had even brought Josh extra napkins for his rib dinner, but she hadn’t made eye contact with any of the four guys she waited on.

“We’re good,” Tanner said quietly. Other than when he’d given her his dinner order, they were the only words he’d spoken to her—tonight or ever. But he hoped to draw her attention his way.

No dice.

“Separate checks, right?” she asked, tearing four slips from her order form. She studied each one before handing them out. Reaching across the table, she took Nate’s empty plate, the V of her white T-shirt tugged down showing a flash of beige lace and the curve of her breast.

Tanner’s gut—and, damn it, his groin—tightened. And the last thing he needed was his buddies giving him grief about getting a hard-on in the middle of the Ludlow Street Café. Jerking his gaze to the table, he gulped down the soda left in his cup, the melting ice cubes hitting his lips. He wished he could toss them in his pants.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes to take those up for you,” Jessica said.

He didn’t look up until she walked away.

“Dude,” Nate said, kicking Tanner’s shin under the table causing his drink to slosh out of the cup and drip down his chin. “You’re drooling.”

Nate laughed at his own lame joke.

Tanner glared at his friend and basketball teammate. Sitting back in the booth, he wiped the back of his hand over the wetness on his chin.

Josh smirked as he counted out money. “If you want to tap that, you’re going to have to do more than stare at her like a loser.”

The back of Tanner’s neck heated. “I don’t even know her.”

No one did. Jessica had moved to Mystic Point a few months ago, and while she’d attended a few local parties, for the most part, she’d kept to herself.

“Sure you do,” Josh said, shaking the remaining ice in his cup. “She’s from Boston. She’s the police chief’s niece. She’s hot. And, best of all, she’s easy.” Grinning, he shook an ice cube in his mouth then nodded at Nate. “She even gave Nate a pity screw.”

Tanner’s fingers twitched on his cup. The last thing he wanted to be reminded of was that his friend had hooked up with a drunken Jess. It made him feel…jealous. And possessive. Which was nuts since the girl wouldn’t give him the time of day.

“There was no pity involved,” Nate said, elbowing Josh hard enough to have him doubling over. “She fell for my charming personality, manly good looks and—” He stretched his arms overhead then brought them down, flexing his biceps. “My ripped bod.”

Next to Tanner, Christian Myers dug his wallet out of his back pocket. “If you want to get to know her, ask her out. The worst she can say is no.”

“Yeah, listen to Dr. Phil here,” Josh said, chomping his ice. “If she shoots you down, you move on. No harm, no foul.”

Tanner wished he’d never suggested they eat at the café. They should’ve hit Mickey D’s instead. “I didn’t say I wanted to ask her out.”

“Keep denying it, brother,” Nate said. “But the truth is written all over your face.”

“Shut it,” Tanner muttered.

“You need to relax.” Josh, comfortable with his parents’ money and his social standing as a member of one of the wealthier families in Mystic Point, sent Tanner a cocky grin. “Let me handle it. Excuse me?” he called to Jessica before Tanner could respond. “Waitress?”

Hands fisted on the table, Tanner leaned forward. “I will kill you.”

Josh waved that away. “No need to thank me. That’s what friends are for.”

“All set?” Jessica asked when she reached their table.

“Actually, no,” Josh said, giving her what Tanner recognized as the smarmy look he used when he thought he was being charming. “There’s one more thing we need.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“We need you to go out with our friend here.” Josh gestured to Tanner. “He thinks you’re hot.”

She glanced at Tanner dismissively. “Not interested.”

“Come on. You have the chance to make this young man very happy.” Josh trailed his fingers down the back of her hand and Tanner wanted to bash his friend’s face in. “Think of it as your good deed for the day.”

“You are a dead man,” Tanner promised him, the words all the more threatening due to his low tone.

“Yeah, come on,” Nate added. “We’re heading out to Kane’s Beach. Should be a good party. And since you don’t drive, you could ride out with Tanner.”

“You two are risking life and limb,” Christian told them, not even looking up from his phone as he texted someone. “He’ll kick both your asses.”

That got Jessica to finally look at him with something other than pure disinterest. But the curiosity in her gaze only lasted a second. “Are you ready for me to take your checks up or not?” she asked Josh.

“Tell you what,” Josh said softly, glancing around as if to make sure the other diners couldn’t overhear. “You agree to show our friend a good time tonight and I’ll throw in an extra fifty. Think of it as a different kind of tip.”

Jessica went white and then her face flooded with color. The rest happened in a blur. Tanner got halfway out of his seat, reaching across the table to wrap his hands around Josh’s neck but Christian grabbed the collar of his shirt and yanked him back. At the same time, Jessica flicked her hand to the side, upending Nate’s glass, spilling the remaining iced tea into Josh’s lap.

“You bitch,” Josh seethed as he leaped up.

“Oops,” she said, her eyes glittering, her teeth bared in a fake smile. “Sorry.” She swept up their cash and slips and sauntered away.

“I’m reporting her to the manager.” Josh pressed paper napkins to the wet spot on his pants. “She did that on purpose. You all saw it.”

“It was an accident,” Tanner said.

Josh tossed the soaked napkins onto the table. “What?”

Tanner got to his feet, looked down at Josh, had the satisfaction of seeing the cockiness on his face be replaced by apprehension. “It was an accident,” Tanner repeated softly. He sent Christian and then Nate pointed looks. “Right?”

Nate lifted a shoulder. “Sure. Don’t be such a pussy, Josh.”

“And you deserved it,” Christian pointed out as he got out of the booth. “Just be glad Tan doesn’t give you a beat down and let it be.”

“Whatever,” Josh grumbled as he left, hitting Tanner’s shoulder as he passed him.

Tanner took a step after him but Christian raised a hand. “Ignore him,” Christian said as Nate followed Josh out. “You going to the party?”

Tanner shook his head. “I have to work tomorrow.”

Which meant getting up at 5:00 a.m. and spending the next ten to twelve hours sweating his ass off. Not that his buddies understood that. Half the time they got pissed at him for ditching them. Neither Josh nor Nate worked; both got their seemingly endless supply of cash from their parents. Christian logged a few hours at the video place but that was mostly nights.

“All right,” Christian said, glancing at his buzzing phone. “Call me tomorrow. We’ll hang, play the new Call of Duty.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Christian walked out, texting as he went. Dude’s girlfriend liked to keep close tabs on him.

Tanner waited a minute, then two, but Jessica didn’t come back out from behind those swinging doors where she’d disappeared after taking Josh down a peg. The back of his neck got itchy. He hunched his shoulders and glanced around, saw Keira Seagren, a cute redhead in his grade who also worked there, watching him curiously. Feeling like an idiot, he lifted his hand in a half-assed wave and then walked out into the warm night.

Hands shoved into the pockets of his cargo shorts, he kept his head down and turned the corner to the parking lot behind the tall, blue building. The setting sun glowed brightly, stark against the darkness of the cloudless sky, reminding him of that scene in Star Wars where Luke steps outside to watch the two suns of his planet go down. The warmth of the day hung in the air, promising a hot, sticky night.

He rounded the back of a blue Camry and stopped, his mom’s keys falling from his hand to land with a soft jingle on the concrete.

Jessica was there. Sitting on the top of a picnic table at the far end of the parking lot, her back to him, her head down, her light hair and white shirt like beacons in the growing darkness.

She turned to face him. He couldn’t move, didn’t know what to do. Even with the distance between them, he could feel the heat from her glare. She didn’t want to talk to him.

Figured she’d rather castrate him.

And damn Mr. Bauchman, his freshman year science teacher, for showing them that video of what castration entailed. He seriously could’ve lived his entire life without ever knowing its definition, let alone witnessed how it was done to bulls.

Her head held high, she turned away again. He quickly scooped up his keys. Eyes on the ground, he wove between two pickups to his mom’s minivan. Unlocked and opened the door.

And made the mistake of glancing at her.

Before he could change his mind—or think better of it—he slammed the door shut and walked over to her.

She stiffened, her shoulders snapping back. “What?” she asked, the word practically dripping frost.

His mouth was dry. His palms damp. When he was a kid, his mom used to tell him that one magical day, he’d outgrow his shyness. It would thrill her if he suddenly started blabbering on about useless, stupid topics. If, even a few times, he struck up a conversation with strangers the way she did.

Why he should do that when he had no interest in doing so, he had no clue. But she still held out hope.

Because other people got nervous when he had nothing to say.

Which he didn’t get. He liked the quiet. Liked listening. Watching. Taking it all in. Even his friends thought he was too shy or scared to talk to girls. Not true. He simply preferred to take his time and think about what he wanted to say first, that was all.

And right now, he wanted her to look at him. Had no problem waiting in silence until she did so.

She huffed out a breath, whirled around. Her eyes were blue, light blue like the midday sky over the water. And right now she was rolling them so far back, she probably caught a glimpse of her brain.

“Okay,” she snapped, “the whole heavy-breathing, prank-phone-call thing is super freaky when you’re doing it in person.”

“You’re not in trouble.” He wasn’t breathing heavily so he saw no reason to respond to that part of her comment. “I told Josh not to report you to your manager.”

She looked at him as if she wanted to plant the thick heel of her shoe in his face. “My hero,” she said, saying hero in a tone usually reserved for slimy-Satan-loving-snake.

He scratched his cheek. “I just thought you should know,” he murmured, feeling like an idiot.

“Look, if you’re hoping to get off tonight, you’ll have to find some other girl.” She sneered, her gaze raking over him in a way that made his balls shrink. “Or you could always take matters into your own hands. I’m sure you have plenty of practice with that.”

He flushed so hard, sweat formed at the back of his neck, a drop of it sliding between his shoulder blades. She was pissed, obviously, and for good reason, but that didn’t mean he had to take shit from her.

Even if she was beautiful.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “for what happened back there.”

She studied him as is trying to decide if he meant it. But he only said things he meant. That was part of the reason he kept silent so often. He didn’t see any point in spouting a bunch of bullshit. It was so much easier to stick with the truth.