Jeannie Watt Read online

  So why did it seem such a rotten idea right now? She had gotten her wish. He’d made love to her. He’d wiped Ryan right out of her brain, and now she regretted it. Not the lovemaking, but rather, the aftermath.

  Tara had turned to go into the house when she heard another car and looked back. To her amazement, Martin Somers got out of the white Continental that had pulled to a stop next to her Camry.

  She started down the steps, wondering what this was all about. It couldn’t have happened at a better time. At the moment she didn’t give two hoots about much of anything, except for the turmoil she had created for herself with Matt.

  “Tara.”

  “Mr. Somers.” Tara chose to go formal with the father of the man who had ruined her house.

  “I’m here to discuss—” he paused very briefly “—the incident two nights ago.”

  The incident. How wonderfully impersonal. Tara waited.

  “I want you to consider dropping charges against my son.”

  Tara slowly yet adamantly shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  “If you drop the charges, I will see to it that the damages are fully recompensed.”

  “I believe you’ll be seeing to that anyway.”

  “You might find going to court expensive.”

  “I’m sure I’ll get court costs.”

  “If you win.”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “There is no evidence Ryan did what you claim he did. He saw the door hanging open from the road as he was driving. He stopped, found the place ruined. It’s possible you did it yourself for the insurance money.”

  Tara shook her head again. “You need to think about your public image here, Martin. You see, I’m used to being a pariah. You are not.” She tilted her head, regarding the man and for once she felt as if she were in the driver’s seat. “I think you’re going to find that public opinion in Night Sky has changed. A lot of people came to help me yesterday and they saw firsthand what your son had done. And now you’re trying to get him off the hook and I don’t think that’s going to look so good. You can put all the spin on this you want but you and Ryan are not going to come out of this unscathed.”

  Martin turned toward his car. His hand was on the handle when he looked back. “You don’t know what you’re doing here.”

  Tara shrugged. “I’ll take my chances. Win, lose or draw, dirty laundry will come out. Most of it yours, since mine is already out there.”

  “Do not threaten me, Miss Sullivan.”

  “It’s not a threat. Just a warning. I may not have your resources, so I have to play hardball with whatever I have.” She paused. “And you’re wrong about no evidence, Martin. Rafe swabbed the blood on the door where Ryan broke my window. In fact, he took a lot of samples, because there was blood everywhere. Did Ryan run in to stop me and then proceed to bleed all over the house in the process?” Her forehead wrinkled in a frown. “That won’t look good.”

  Martin showed no emotion. Tara hadn’t expected him to. “I might consider working out a deal,” she said.

  “What kind of deal?”

  “Let’s talk punitive damages. If Ryan pled no contest to the charges and accepted his punishment, I wouldn’t be able to pursue punitive damages in civil court, and you would look a heck of a lot better than if you spent tons of money trying to get your obviously guilty son off the hook.” She raised a shoulder. “Just a suggestion.”

  “Anything else?” Martin asked with a sneer.

  “Yes. You seem to carry some weight with the manager of U.S. Trust. Before I consider any kind of deal I want my loan refinanced.”

  “I can’t—”

  “Of course not,” Tara agreed. “Just like you didn’t influence the loan not being refinanced.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You might mention the term predatory loan practices aimed at the elderly to the bank manager if you see him.” She hadn’t had much time to look into it, just a few minutes here and there, but what she had found made for interesting reading. She was certain Nate Bidart would think so, too.

  Martin opened his car door.

  “Oh. One more thing,” she added conversationally. “I have quite a list of people who were suddenly unable to work for me but still worked for you. A lot of little coincidences.” Her nose wrinkled a little. “Well documented, and when added to Ryan’s destruction, wow, it looks like a conspiracy.”

  “You’ll need a good lawyer to prove that.”

  “How does Nate Bidart sound?”

  Martin turned without another word and got into his car, and that in itself told Tara that she might soon find herself on the trail to financial recovery. And if she didn’t…well, she was pretty certain now she’d survive. She seemed to be getting a lot of practice at survival lately.

  Lydie dropped Hailey off at 8:00 a.m. to help with the cooking for tomorrow’s guests and then decided to pitch in herself until her first appointment at the salon.

  “I heard Ryan is already out on bail,” she announced as she tied on an apron, “but that Martin is so embarrassed that he has forbidden him from showing up at the reunion. Rumor has it Ryan is going out of town very soon.” Lydie gave Tara a significant look as she said the last words. “Probably an all-expense paid vacation to somewhere warm and far away to keep him out of his father’s hair.”

  Martin is afraid of becoming a target of a lawsuit and wants his son in a place where he can do no more damage.

  “Let’s see, what else?” Lydie said as she chopped onions. “I guess Stacia has figured out who Ryan was seeing on the side. It was an old girlfriend from Elko who Ryan just wasn’t quite ready to part company with. Or rather, she wasn’t ready to part company with him after a short post-engagement fling. A hot little number I hear.” She gave Tara a meaningful sideways glance. “Martin’s the same way, you know. That old coot had a girl on the side for most of his married life. I don’t know how his wife stood for it.”

  Lydie continued passing on the gossip she had picked up in the shop for another forty-five minutes as she helped chop, slice and mix. “Well,” she finally said as she untied her borrowed apron. “I have a perm and it’s Mrs. Martini. I can’t be late or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

  Lydie bustled out the door. Tara looked at Hailey and shook her head, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. “You must know everything, working at that place.”

  “I can’t wait to get out of there and not know everything,” Hailey said on a sigh. “Exhausting.”

  Tara glanced at her watch. “Would you mind finishing piping these shells? I have to get to—”

  “Your stupid committee meeting,” Hailey finished for her. “You bet.”

  “The meetings don’t seem as stupid as they used to.”

  Hailey raised her eyes, the piping bag hovering dangerously unattended over a shell.

  “Someone usually ends up crying,” Tara explained with a nonchalant wave of her hand, making an attempt to sound like her old self. “Lots of unexpected action and drama.”

  The meeting, of course, lasted forever, but this time there were no tears. Dottie still had a few tricks up her sleeve, though. It seemed that after the dress parade, she thought it was the best of ideas to have all of the queens present walk the length of the runway with an escort while slides of their original coronation were shown. She’d already found the slides, and had the escorts lined up.

  Great. On top of everything else, now she’d get to relive her sucky prom in front of an audience.

  It was obvious that Dottie had been planning this for some time, but had waited to spring it on the women until it was virtually fait accompli. She’d probably been afraid that someone—like, oh say, Tara—would nix it, and Tara was tempted, but she also knew how important it was for Dottie to relive her moment of glory.

  She raised her hand though, knowing Dottie would expect at least a token resistance.

  “I won’t be escorted by Principal Gates, will I?” There was a short silence and then Dottie lau
ghed.

  “No,” she promised, waving her hand at Tara in a dismissive gesture. Sandra Hernandez turned red.

  “Great,” Tara said as she collected her shoulder bag and got to her feet. “In that case, I’ll find something nice to wear. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I still have a few things I need to settle.” She headed for the door, knowing that, regardless of the reunion preparations she still had to make, the main thing she needed to settle was in her own mind. Was she actually in love with Matt? And if so, what was she supposed to do about it?

  Luke was industriously clipping a hedge when Tara drove in, but no greenery seemed to be coming off. He was faking it, waiting for her, obviously to put his two cents in. A few weeks ago, she would have been furious if someone had tried to push their nose into her private business, but at the moment she welcomed any insight she could get.

  “Hey, Luke.”

  He gave her a searching look, and Tara realized that he knew more than she probably wanted him to. Nothing was ever private.

  “Tara.”

  “Did you see Matt before he left?” she asked, taking the bull by the horns.

  That appeared to be all the opening Luke needed. “I did. Did you know about the FFD exam?”

  “The FFD? What’s that?”

  “Fitness for Duty.”

  Tara felt as if she’d just been sucker punched. Matt had to take a fitness for duty exam? When he poured his guts out a few nights ago, he hadn’t seen reason to share that bit of information. Trust issues or privacy issues? Pride perhaps.

  “Neither did I. Not until he returned his key.”

  “What does it involve?”

  “Basically a visit to the shrink. He has to pass the exam before he can go back on patrol. Until then he’ll be parked behind a desk or not working at all. Just another way for the lieutenant to try to get to him.” Luke added in a low voice, “And that woman helped him.”

  What woman? Tara felt her insides go hot and then cold. She hated the thought of some other woman doing anything to Matt, good or bad. “He never said a word.”

  “He’s an idiot.” He took a step back and studied the hedge. “That may go for both of you.”

  “Now, wait a minute—”

  “No. I won’t wait a minute,” he said, waving the clippers. “Matt has always been too fixated on right and wrong for his own good. He’s been wronged and he wants to make it right. Regardless of everything else. He’s just like you. Handling everything alone, his own way. Tunnel-visioned. Bullheaded—”

  “Wait a minute—”

  “You’re the first crack I’ve seen in his facade.”

  Tara frowned. Crack in his facade? “What woman?” she finally demanded.

  “What would it matter to you?”

  Tara opened her mouth and then closed it again. She took a deep breath and then said, “I don’t know, but I plan to find out.”

  And with that she turned and marched toward the house.

  Nicky pulled into the drive a few minutes later and burst into the kitchen with his usual enthusiasm. Tara had called him the day before to explain what had happened to their house. That was when Nicky had informed her that he’d landed a part-time job with the school in California, starting in September. It would take time away from his studies, but he thought he could handle it. Tara reined in her protectiveness and told him to go for it. It wouldn’t solve their financial problems, but it wouldn’t hurt, either.

  “The house looks good, T. A lot better than I thought it was going to.” His eyes traveled around the room. “Except for maybe the fridge.” He went to smooth a hand over the dents, then checked the seal.

  “I had a lot of help,” Tara replied, her mind still on Matt and his FFD and the mystery woman. What should she do about this? Back off? Cool off? Let Matt live his own life?

  Okay. There were things he hadn’t told her, things he didn’t want her to know. Private things. What right did she have to butt in after her famous no-commitments speech?

  The right given to her by the fact that she had some feelings for the guy. She wasn’t sure what they were, but how sure could a person be? At what point did the heart, the hormones and the brain all synchronize?

  And at what point was a risk no longer a risk? She’d thought she had it all worked out, how to feel close to a person with no risks. The single requirement was that no one fall in love.

  Well, she was beginning to feel she’d blown that one.

  But maybe Matt had, too. Maybe that was why he’d backed off so fast. Something deep within her suspected no man made love that tenderly without caring about the person he was with.

  She needed to know the truth and, impatient person that she was, she wanted to know it now. She hated living with shades of gray. Four long days until the reunion was over. Four long days to brood. It might be good for her. Yeah.

  She glanced at her watch, thoughts of doing the impossible edging into her mind.

  “I saw Luke. Where’s Matt?” Nicky asked.

  “Gone.” Tara pulled the fridge open before she had to explain. Ginny was chopping mushrooms in preparation for a hot appetizer for the Bidart party and she smiled shyly over her shoulder at Nicky.

  “Hi, Ginny,” Nicky said with his easy grin, accepting the glass of lemonade his sister pushed into his hand. He downed it in a couple of swallows and then Tara gestured toward the hall with her head and Nicky, always one to take a hint, followed her.

  “What’s up?” he asked as Tara closed her bedroom door. “Whoa,” he added as he glanced around. Her room had only been touched upon during the cleanup.

  “This is nothing,” Tara said. She’d cleared the floor, dumped her personal items and books into a couple of boxes, put the empty shelves back in place, and thanked heaven that her laptop had been under the bed. Ryan had ruined the main computer. “You should have seen the house before.”

  Nicky sank down onto the bed.

  “I talked to Martin this morning.”

  “On purpose?” he asked.

  Tara gave a tolerant smile and then described her discussion with the man, the deal she’d suggested.

  “Why no contest?”

  “To tell you the truth, Nicky, I’m halfway afraid he might hire a megalawyer and get Ryan off the hook somehow. Weirder things have happened and he has a lot of money and a lot of connections. And then we’d still have to go through a civil suit to try to collect damages. This way Ryan gets his lumps—” and it was important to her that Ryan get those lumps “—we get the damages paid for. I think Martin is tempted. This will be easier and quieter than a trial.” She focused on the worn leather of the recliner. “I need you to do me a favor.”

  “Name it.”

  “I want to talk to Matt.”

  “Who is…”

  “In Reno.”

  Nicky unclipped the phone from his belt and held it out. Tara shook her head.

  “This isn’t a phone matter.”

  “That serious?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I need to find out. I figure if I leave now…head back very early tomorrow morning at the latest…I won’t quite make it here in time for the earlier guests. But I’ll be close.”

  Nicky smoothed back his hair with exaggerated style. “I think that maybe I can welcome a few guests and get them settled without help.”

  Tara smiled. “I know. But I didn’t want you to think I’m shirking my duty.”

  He stood. “Shirk away, T. Nicky’s here.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “But you might want to arrange to have someone else do the cooking.”

  MATT DID NOT HAVE a sense of homecoming as he drove into Sparks and snarled his way down 395 in the mid-afternoon traffic, heading for his house in the south of Reno. If anything, he was surprised at how congested the roadways were.

  Night Sky’s lazy pace had definitely gotten under his skin. But he wasn’t in Night Sky anymore.

  He already had a tension headache.

  Thirty minutes later, which was twen
ty minutes longer than it should have taken, he was home. He hadn’t realized before he’d left just how unhomey it was.

  Stark. The functional mode of décor was understandable in Luke’s rental, but this was his home, the place where he’d been living for six years. He barely even had any pictures on the walls. This was more of a crash pad than a home.

  Tara would hate it.

  Ah, Tara. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, trying to ease the tight muscles.

  Had she given any sign, any indication that her feelings had changed…but now that he was away from her, thinking with his brain, he knew that it was a good thing she hadn’t. A damned good thing.

  Luke had not agreed when Matt stopped by to give him the key. So, what happens now with Tara? had been the old man’s exact words.

  Nothing, Matt had said. Luke had not been impressed, even when Matt laid out a few solid truths: the effect of his job on relationships, the upcoming FFD, and the fact that Luke had managed to survive without hooking up.

  “I wouldn’t wish this life on anyone.” And that, too, had eaten at Matt as he had driven home. Luke was lonely and Matt was bailing on him.

  Well, at least Tara hadn’t been all that sorry to see him go. She’d practically packed his bags.

  He went to the grocery store late that afternoon when his stomach started to growl and loaded up on the easy-to-fix food he ate while on shift. Frozen everything. He actually liked to cook, but after Lisa had left him…cooking for one was a pain in the ass.

  Shopping done and food put away, he opened the windows to let a breeze through his stuffy house…the place still didn’t seem like home.

  Matt popped the top of a beer and opened a bag of chips. He sat out on his back patio and looked at his overgrown grass. A kid was supposed to come by and cut it while he was gone, but there must have been a miscommunication. He’d get the job done after shift tomorrow. No, after the scheduled FFD.

  Hearing a knock on his door, Matt halfway considered ignoring it. But it might be the lawn-mowing kid, there to explain himself. He set the beer down and went to open the front door. His heart did a slow slide into his throat.