He pulled out the crumpled tissues Nick had used and tossed them into the wastebasket.
After a moment, he got them back out. There was a lot of blood on those tissues.
She would never agree to the DNA test now. She’d denied that the pictures were similar. She’d said he had no reason to think he was Nick’s father.
She wouldn’t see what was obvious even when it was right in front of her eyes.
She’d never know.
Because she’d known that Nick and Tommy would have a great time. Nick was watching the bobbers carefully, waiting for one to disappear. His cheeks were flushed and his hair lifted in the wind. Tommy ran from one side of the boat to the other under Walker’s close eye.
For someone who’d spent five years on a fishing boat, he didn’t seem to like it very much. His mouth had been a grim line as they’d steered out of the protected area near shore and into the open lake. He’d set out twelve lines mechanically, his movements jerky, shoving the handles into the holders a little too hard.
They’d scarcely spoken since he’d arrived at her house at the ungodly hour of 5:00 a.m. They couldn’t talk about what had happened the other night, not with the boys in the car. Jen was glad Nick and Tommy were with them.
“There’s a school on the sonar,” Charlotte Smith, the pilot, called. “We’re right over it.”
“Ease back a little,” Walker said. The boat slowed, and Jen’s stomach lurched again.
“One of the bobbers went under!” Nick yelled.
Walker plucked a rod out of its holster. “You’re first. Reel it in.”
Nick worked for ten minutes, winding the fishing line and drawing the rod back.
“Must be a big one. He’s got a lot of fight.” Walker grabbed a net and hung over the side. “I think it’s close, though.”
“Yeah.” Nick grunted. After about a minute, he shouted, “Hey, I see it!”
In spite of her roiling stomach, Jen stood and saw a flash of silver in the water. Walker leaned over farther and scooped up the fish. He upturned the net on the deck, and the silvery fish flopped and twitched.
Walker picked up a short, stubby club and hit the fish sharply on the head.
Jen ran to the side of the boat and vomited until her stomach hurt. Walker handed her a towel and a bottle of water when she returned. “You okay?”
“Fine.” She wiped her face, filled her mouth with water and spat over the side. “Sorry I got sick.”
“Don’t worry about it. We call it chum.”
“That’s disgusting.”
He shrugged. “That’s fishing.”
Three hours later, they headed for the dock with four salmon in the cooler. Tommy had reeled in one, Nick another, and Walker brought in the final fish. Every time he landed one on the deck, Jen closed her eyes and put her hands over her ears.
He cleaned them at a table on the dock, then tossed the fillets into a cooler. They’d decided to smoke half of them, so drove to Tomcat’s. Nick and Tommy went inside to figure out what smoked flavors they wanted, while she and Walker stayed in the car. The smell of fish hung heavily in the air.
“Thank you for taking them out,” she said. “They had a great time.”
“My pleasure.”
“Really? You didn’t look like you were enjoying yourself,” she noted.
He stared at the building’s weathered facade. “I hate fishing and everything that goes along with it. I haven’t eaten a fish since the last day I worked on my father’s boat.”
“If you hated it so much, why did you do it?”
“I didn’t have a choice. I lost my scholarship to college. I needed a job. My father needed help on the boat. That’s why.”
She was the one who’d sentenced him to five years on a fishing charter. Five years of cold, rough water. Five years of clubbing fish to death. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “No wonder you hate me.”
“I don’t hate you, Jen.” He looked at her then, his lips curving. “Couldn’t you tell the other night?”
“That was sex,” she said, her voice flat. “And power. It had nothing to do with hate or love.”
He shifted in his seat. Somehow, he ended up closer to her. “I didn’t plan that.”
Heat rose up her neck.
If he was any other man…
Where were the boys? How long did it take to drop off some fish?
There was a long minute of uncomfortable silence before Nick and Tommy emerged from the tiny store. Walker asked them what they’d decided to do with their fish, and they debated Cajun versus lemon pepper flavors for smoked salmon the rest of the way home.
When they reached the house, the boys lugged the cooler with the rest of the fillets inside. Instead of heading for his Porsche, parked at the curb, Walker waited for her. She tried to walk past him, but he put out a hand to stop her.
“How’s your stomach?” he asked, pressing his hand over her abdomen.
Her muscles quivered under his palm. “It’s fine.” He dipped one finger beneath the waistband of her jeans as he moved away.
It was barely a touch. Just a quick sweep of a fingertip. Anyone watching would think it was merely an accident. But she sucked in a breath. “Thanks for the fish. We’ll have them for dinner on Monday.”
“You’re not going to invite me?”
“Why would I? You said you hated fish.”
“You’re a good cook. I bet you could make fish palatable, even for me.”
“Fine. Come on over.”
She watched him as he sauntered to his car. She’d risen to the bait. You’d think by now she’d have learned to avoid the hook.
Walker. The metal tab of the tape measure flew out of her hands and snapped Frank’s knuckles as it rewound.
“Hey!” He shook his hand. “Take it easy.”
“Sorry, Frank.” She snatched the black metal case from him. “I’ll look at the back room while you take care of your customer.”
She hurried through the door into Frank’s office. His desk was a mess, the piles held in place by boxes of sports cards. A frame holding a signed Brett Favre jersey leaned against the wall next to a filing cabinet. A milk crate held autographed baseballs. Beyond the desk were mostly empty metal shelves.
She could put a kitchen in this space. She tried to visualize where everything would go, but Walker’s voice in the background distracted her, and her body responded.
What was he doing here? She doubted he collected baseball cards.
The talking stopped, but the bell over the door didn’t ring. Was Walker waiting for her? He clearly didn’t know the meaning of “no.” Or “get lost.”
When she returned to the front of the store, he was just slipping a small brown bag in his pocket. “Hello, Walker,” she said, wondering what he’d bought. “I had no idea you were a sports fan.”
“Huge one,” he answered. “Cubs season tickets.”
“Bunch of losers.”
“This is the year.”
“It always is, isn’t it?”
“Cubs are great,” Frank said. “We sell a lot of Cubs stuff.”
She turned to the shop owner. “I think I have everything I need for now. If you’ll get those utility bills together, I’ll stop in and pick them up.”
“Sure. I’ll dig out a lease, too.”
“Great. Talk to you soon.”
She walked out the door, intensely aware of Walker behind her.
“You’re renting this place?” he asked. “What for?”
“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“Just curious.”
He kept pace with her as she headed down the block, and finally she sighed. “I’m opening a restaurant there.”
“I thought you had a catering business. Like at Quinn’s wedding.”
“I’m only doing that to scrape together enough money for the restaurant. I didn’t intend to do it so soon, but…”
“But I showed up in Otter Tail, and you want to get away from the Harp.”
“Not everything is about you, Walker.”
“Now you’ve hurt my feelings.” He slipped an arm through hers. “You’re going to have to kiss them and make them better.”
“Stop it.” She broke away. “What do you want?”
“Why that spot?”
“Because it’s available. It’s on Main Street. Tourists driving through to get to other Door County towns will pass it. Some of them will stop.” She walked a little faster. “I have to head home and get ready for work.”
“You don’t have to be at the Harp for three hours. We need to talk about Nick.”
“The answer is still no. We’re not doing the test.” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “And if you want him to keep working for you, you better not bring it up again.”
“When did you become such a ball buster?”
“You have no idea how tough I am.” She’d learned her lessons well while she’d been married to Tony. Show no weakness. Give away nothing that could be exploited. Don’t back down.
“Okay, tough girl. Did you know Nick goes out at night?”
“What?” She stared at him, not sure she heard him correctly. “He does not.”
“And you know this because you’re keeping an eye on him?”
She sucked in a breath. He’d managed to distill all her guilt into one sentence. “Go to hell, Walker.”
“Jen. I’m sorry.” When she tried to step around him, he moved with her. “That was a cheap shot. It was unfair and untrue.”
“I
am
gone almost every night.”
“But you’re there during the day. Please. I promised him I’d talk to you about this.”
She whirled to face him, furious. “When have you talked to him by yourself?”
She let him steer her to the park, where they both sat on one of the benches. The play area was deserted. A blue-winged teal flew over and landed on the river with a tiny, faraway splash.
“I saw him running through an alley the night I walked you home. Late. With a couple of other kids.” Walker rested his elbows on his knees and stared down at the grass.
That was the night he’d kissed her. “Why didn’t you speak up as soon as you saw him? So I could deal with it immediately.”
He shifted on the bench as if he was uncomfortable. “I was pissed off about Nick. I guess I was trying to get even with you.” He slanted her a look. “Know something about him you didn’t know.”
She leaped off the bench. She couldn’t bear to be that close to him. “He’s not a pawn in your game. He’s a child. What he was doing was dangerous. You should have told me.”
“You’re right. I should have. That’s why I’m telling you now.” His gaze shifted to a boat on the river.
“What else?”
He shoved his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, okay? It was stupid. I wasn’t thinking about what was best for Nick.”
“You were playing a stupid power game. At the expense of my son.”
Maybe his son, too.
“He was with two other kids. Stevie Melton and a guy named Dave. I forced him to explain what he was doing. I used the threat of ratting him out to you.”
She sank back down on the bench. This wasn’t good. Nick would normally put up every barrier in his arsenal at a threat like that. Did her son feel some connection with Walker? Blood calling to blood?
That was ridiculous. Fanciful.
She didn’t do fanciful.
He smiled, a tiny curve of his lips. “He said you’d listen to me, because you liked me.”
“Shows what he knows,” she muttered.
“Here’s the deal. He and Dave go over to the Meltons’ house on Friday and Saturday nights.”
“What?” She swung around to face him. “He knows he’s supposed to stay away from that family.”
“He’s doing a good thing, Jen.” Walker told her about Stevie’s parents and the drugs and the intruder, about Nick and Dave trying to protect the Melton kids.
“I had no idea. Those poor children.”
Sunlight filtered through the trees, making lacy designs on the grass, and the air was warm. But goose bumps rose on her skin as she thought about the danger the kids were in. And now Nick, as well.
“Nick likes Stevie. I’ve known that for a while, but the Meltons have always been bad news. They were a few years ahead of us in school—in my sister Pam’s class—and they were troublemakers even then.” Jen shook her head, remembering Stevie’s pinched face and tense shoulders. “I’m ashamed I never tried to help Stevie or Adam. Something has to be done.”
“I agree.” Walker put one arm across the back of the bench. He wasn’t touching her, but she slid farther away.
“There was a fight a few days ago,” he continued. “Some kid named Boyd was hassling Stevie for marijuana, and Nick stood up for her.”
Jen couldn’t repress the flash of jealousy. “Nick told you about it?”
“No. I was riding my bike past the school when it happened. I pulled them apart.”
“Nelson Boyd is a spoiled brat.” She remembered his bullying and tantrums at birthday parties when the kids were much smaller. “I’m not surprised he’s progressed to pushing girls around. He’ll end up like the Meltons.”
“What are you going to do?”
Surprised, she glanced at him. Tony would have told
her
what to do. Given her what
he
thought was the solution.
“I’ll start with Nick,” she said slowly. “He should have some ideas how to help Stevie and her brother. Ultimately, though, I’ll have to call child services. Stevie and Adam are probably going to be taken out of the home. Rusty and Lauralee Melton will be angry, and it will get ugly.”
“Do you have room in your house to take them in, at least temporarily?”
“We could make room, but we’ve got to come up with a long-term solution. If he’s being so protective of Stevie, the two of them living in the same house isn’t a good idea.”
“I didn’t think of that, but you’re right. I saw the way he looked at her.”
“My baby is growing up,” she said. An image of Nick as a newborn filled her mind. Helpless, completely dependent on her. He wasn’t a baby any more, but she still wanted to protect him.
“He’s fifteen. Not a child.”
“I know. It’s just…” She looked at the river as a shimmer of light reflected off the water. That was the reason tears pricked her eyes. It had nothing to do with another geeky boy, sixteen years earlier. A boy on whom
she’d
inflicted pain. “Nick’s always seemed to be more interested in games and his buddies than, you know, girls.”
“Even geek boys like girls,” Walker said drily.
She’d have to have another talk with Nick. She wished she could leave it to Tony, but he’d turn it into a joke. That was his fallback when some thing made him uncomfortable. Nick would be self-conscious and he’d tune his father out.
Tony meant well, but he never thought about how to handle the boys. Never thought about the message he was sending when he didn’t take things seriously.
It was impossible not to compare Tony to Walker. It wasn’t fair to Tony. He did the best he could. But Walker was the one Nick had confided in.
Nick would never have gone to Tony for help.
It was a sad situation, both for the boys and for herself. She and Tony had been in love once. So eager to start their life together. But everything had started to unravel after he had to go directly to the minor leagues.
Because he’d lost his baseball scholarship.
Because she’d seduced Walker into changing Tony’s grade.
Because they’d all been caught.
“Hey.” Walker jostled her arm. “Where did you go?”
She stared at the sunlight bouncing off the river. She didn’t want to go back there, didn’t want to face the careless, cruel girl she’d been.
Maybe she should tell him about the gradual dismantling of her marriage, the way it had hollowed out until nothing was left but a shell of bitterness and anger. Maybe it would make him feel better about his five years on that fishing boat.
Did she want to open herself up to Walker? Make herself that vulnerable?
“Jen? What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing that has to do with Nick. Nothing that’s any of your business.”