Authors: Beth Andrews
“We could toss her in the trunk,” he added. “Let Layne deal
with her when we get to the station.” He rolled his shoulders as if warming up
for some heavy lifting, his focus on Tori, his gaze assessing. “What do you go?
About one twenty-five?”
A sound of outrage escaped her even as she sucked in her
stomach. “I’ll have you know—” she jabbed a finger at Griffin’s chest, wished it
was a fork “—I weigh one-fifteen.”
Give or take…oh…five pounds.
“If you say so.” Then he smirked.
Her hands fisted. God, what she wouldn’t give to knock that
stupid grin off his face.
She tossed her hair back, her high heels bringing them almost
eye to eye. “Listen, as much as I’m sure you two enjoy playing Bonnie and Clyde
in your spare time, leave me out of it. Because if you lay one greasy finger on
me, I’ll have Layne arrest you for assault after I’ve taken my hedge clippers to
your—”
“Now, now,” Nora said. “No need to get all threatening and
violent. It was only an idea.” She patted Griffin’s arm. “A sweet one.”
Tori gaped at her usually levelheaded sister. “There is
something seriously wrong with you. What did he do? Perform a lobotomy on you
while you were sleeping?”
“We need to go,” Griffin told Nora.
She sighed, as if dealing with Tori taxed the last of her
usually limitless energy and patience. Well, it wasn’t exactly a day at the
beach on Tori’s side of things, either.
Nora nodded. “I guess we’ll just tell Layne she couldn’t get
away.”
It took a moment for Tori to realize she was the “she” Nora was
talking about. “Okay, first of all, I’m standing right here and you acting as if
I’m not is really irritating. Secondly, I don’t need you or anyone making
excuses for me.” Didn’t want anyone doing so. She stood up for herself. Took
care of herself.
After she’d realized the hard lesson that no one else was going
to take care of her.
Too bad taking care of herself and her son wasn’t as easy as
she’d thought it would be.
Nora sent her a beseeching look, one made all the more powerful
by her sister’s sweetness. “Layne really wanted us both there. She wants you
there.”
Tori’s resolve started dissolving like sugar in hot water. “I
guess she’s going to be disappointed, then,” she said lightly before brushing
past Griffin and heading back to work.
But guilt nudged her, hard and insistent as a toothache. Damn
Nora. Damn Tori’s love for her. That’s what love did. It trapped you. Made you
worry all the time about pleasing someone else, about putting your own wants and
needs aside.
Love made you weak.
And Tori couldn’t afford to be anything but strong.
CHAPTER TWO
“W
HAT
ARE
YOU
doing?” Celeste Vitello
asked Tori.
Tori set a stack of dirty dishes into a heavy, plastic bin.
“Giving Mr. Jeffries a lap dance,” she said dryly, glancing at her boss.
“You?”
“Now that is a horrifying thought.” Celeste’s dark, wildly
curly short hair was held back from her face with a wide, black headband making
her brown eyes appear larger, her cheekbones more pronounced. A white apron
covered her stretchy black pants and orange T-shirt. “And while I admire your
clever wit as much as, if not more than, the next person, shouldn’t you get
going? Layne wanted you at the station at nine and it’s already eight
fifty-five.”
Using the back of her hand, Tori brushed her long bangs aside.
“Not you, too.”
“Me, too, what?”
“You’ve joined the Layne Brigade,” Tori said, tossing
silverware into the bin with a loud clang. “Bad enough she sent Nora over here
to fetch me like I’m some sort of disobedient child, now you’re waving at me
from the front seat of the bandwagon? For God’s sake, don’t drink the Kool-Aid,
people. Fight the power.”
She wasn’t surprised Celeste knew about Layne’s important
meeting. Layne probably called her, too. Or else Nora had swung by the kitchen
to tell Celeste Tori was being stubborn.
Nora always had been a little tattletale.
Celeste pressed the tips of her forefingers against her temples
as if seeking inner peace or warding off a headache. “Times like this make me
wonder if you and Layne will ever outgrow your sibling rivalry.”
“She started it.”
Layne always started it with her judgmental attitude, bossiness
and overinflated sense of superiority. As if she had some sort of holy light
shining down on her just because she was the firstborn.
Celeste shifted out of the way of a customer, smiled and
greeted him before edging closer to Tori and lowering her voice. “I’m officially
giving you the time off. Now go be with your sisters.”
Tori didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to fall into line just
because Layne demanded it. “Thanks, but I’d rather finish my shift.”
She gathered the crumpled napkins and empty containers of
creamer and tossed them into the bin. But she felt Celeste watching her,
studying her. It was annoying. Unnerving.
Not that she’d ever let anyone see even the slightest hint of
nerves, of doubts. People saw only what she allowed. Her thoughts, her feelings
were her own until she decided to share them.
“Patty,” Celeste said to the other waitress as she walked past,
“could you cover Tori’s tables? She has a family emergency.”
“Sure thing. Here,” she said to Tori, “I’ll take that back for
you.”
But when Patty took a hold of the bin, Tori’s fingers
tightened. A subtle tug-of-war ensued, causing the dishes to clank together.
Patty’s eyes flashed and she yanked hard. Tori’s grip slipped. She stumbled
back, bumping into the table with enough force to knock it against a chair.
With a triumphant grin, Patty tossed her head and walked
away.
Tori straightened and stepped toward Patty’s retreating back,
ready to…well…she wasn’t sure what exactly but she was afraid it included her
lunging at the older woman and taking her down in a headlock.
Knowing Tori all too well, Celeste blocked her path. “Let’s go
to my office. We can discuss—”
“There’s nothing to discuss.” Fighting her building temper,
Tori smoothed her skirt over her hips, tugged down the hem. “I’m not
leaving.”
Celeste raised her eyebrows. “My office. Now.”
Damn. Celeste rarely used that no-nonsense tone with anybody,
let alone Tori, which only made it that much more effective when she did resort
to it.
Aware that they’d drawn several curious glances, Tori forced
her lips up into her patented coy smile and sauntered across the dining room.
Kept her movements graceful and unhurried even when she reached the empty
hallway.
At the end of the hall, she entered the office. Weak sunlight
filtered in through the two narrow windows, casting shadows on the dark carpet.
Framed photographs of Tori and her sisters, along with one of their father, Tim,
and Celeste decorated the wall to her left. Several smaller ones, all of Tori’s
son, Brandon, ranging from newborn to last year’s school picture, were scattered
on the bookshelf to the right. A huge, ugly cherry desk that had belonged to
Celeste’s grandfather took up more than its fair share of space, along with a
three-drawer metal filing cabinet and two wooden chairs.
Walking in, Celeste flipped on the overhead lights then shut
the door.
Tori crossed her arms. “I cannot believe you played the boss
card on me.”
Okay, so technically Celeste
was
her boss. But in addition to that, she was also her father’s girlfriend and
before that she’d been her mother’s best friend. Celeste had been one of the few
people who’d seen something valuable in Valerie Sullivan.
And in Tori.
Celeste loved her without expectation, without judgment. Some
days Tori thought she was the only person who did.
“I do whatever it takes,” Celeste said as she sat behind the
desk. “You know that.”
She did. Tori admired her for it and for what she’d made of her
life. Celeste had her own successful business, one she’d built by herself from
the ground up. The only thing Tori didn’t understand was why Celeste gave her
heart to men whose only real love, their obsession, was the sea.
Maybe it was in her blood. Her grandmother had married a
fisherman, and her mother eloped with a navy petty officer, only to be left
alone when he chose the sea over his young wife and baby daughter. At nineteen,
Celeste lost her fiancé when the fishing boat he’d been on had gone down during
a Nor’easter.
And now, for the past eight years, she’d been in a relationship
with Tori’s father, another fisherman who always, always, chose the call of the
ocean over her. Just as he’d done with his wife and daughters.
Which proved that no man was worth giving your time, your
attention and most especially your heart to.
“Sit down,” Celeste said, gesturing to the chair in front of
the desk, “and tell me what’s going on with you.”
Tori plopped onto the chair. “Nothing’s going on. Since when is
wanting to cover my own shift, my full shift, a crime?”
“Honey, you were fighting a woman twice your age over dirty
dishes.”
“Patty’s stronger than she looks. Those water aerobics are
really working.”
“I’m sure they are.” Opening a drawer to her right, Celeste
pulled out a bag of mini chocolate bars. Tori didn’t think it was a coincidence
Celeste’s stash of candy and the loaded handgun she kept for protection were
housed in the same space.
No one touched Celeste’s chocolates without permission.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, taking three candies from the bag
before sliding it toward Tori.
Her voice was kind, worry clear in her brown eyes. It reminded
Tori of when she’d sat in this very same chair as a scared, pregnant teenager.
Only they knew Celeste was the first person she’d told. The person who’d held
her as she’d cried, more terrified than she’d ever been in her life. So afraid
of disappointing her family, of Greg turning his back on her, of being
responsible—completely, totally, fully responsible—for the life growing inside
her.
Humiliated and angry that she’d ended up just like her
mother.
“What’s the point of my going?” Tori asked, unable to stop the
words from spilling out. “No matter what evidence they found or new theory Layne
has, it won’t change anything.”
She wanted to move forward and forget the past. Not rehash
it.
“Don’t you want to know what happened?” Celeste asked quietly.
“Don’t you want to know the truth?”
Tori didn’t believe in the truth. It was too easily
manipulated, too easily hidden. She should know. Her own life was nothing but
smoke and mirrors, shifting and reflecting what she wanted people to see. Giving
them only what she wanted them to have.
“The truth is that Dale York killed Mom. And now he’s dead.
What else is there?”
She didn’t expect a real answer but the look on Celeste’s face
told her the older woman was keeping something from her. See? Everyone lied.
Everyone kept secrets. Even someone as good and honest as Celeste.
“What’s going on?” Tori asked, her fingers aching from gripping
the arms of the chair so tightly.
Unwrapping a candy, Celeste glanced around as if someone was
going to suddenly materialize out of thin air to overhear their conversation. “I
think Layne might be in trouble.”
Tori exhaled a short laugh, the tension in her easing. “My big
sister doesn’t get into trouble. She gets everyone else out of it.”
Layne had always been there to help Tori and Nora with their
homework, made sure they had dinner, lunch money and went to bed at a decent
hour. She’d been more of a mother to them than Valerie had ever been.
She never let her sisters forget it.
Tori appreciated the sacrifices Layne had made, how she’d taken
care of them. She also resented the hell out of her for not seeing that she and
Nora no longer needed her to be their substitute mom. They needed her to be
their sister.
“Donna called me,” Celeste said of her good friend and Chief
Taylor’s secretary. “She told me Mayor Seagren and the district attorney had an
early morning meeting with both Ross and Layne.”
“Ross and the mayor are always huddled up about something.”
Billy Seagren loved nothing more than hanging out at the police station. She
wouldn’t be surprised if he hadn’t asked Ross to make him some sort of
unofficial deputy complete with shiny gold star.
“A special investigator sent from the attorney general’s office
was there, too. Donna isn’t sure what’s going on but there’s been some sort of
complaint against both Ross and Layne. Something is wrong,” Celeste said. “I can
feel it. And I think you should go to this meeting, not because Layne told you
to, but because she needs you there.”
Her mouth twisting, Tori tucked her hair behind her ear. Layne
didn’t need her. No one did. Not her sisters or her father. Not even her own
son.
“Can I get back to work now?” she asked, sounding as petulant
and defiant as Brandon. That he came by his attitude naturally only irritated
her more. Would it kill him to mimic a few of her positive traits?
Celeste sighed, her disappointment clear. Nothing new there.
Tori was always disappointing someone. “If that’s what you really want…”
“It is,” Tori said, already walking out of the office. She
headed toward the dining room, but stopped at the doorway, her stomach turning.
Whirling around, she crossed to the break room, circled the table, her stride
short because of her tight skirt.
The guilt was back. As if she didn’t have enough of the useless
stuff already. She was a mother, wasn’t she? She’d been dealing with guilt on a
daily basis ever since Brandon was born. Was she good enough? Smart enough? Did
she have enough patience? Give him enough time and attention and love?
It had only increased since she and Greg had told Brandon they
were splitting up a year ago. She’d seen the accusation in her son’s eyes. He’d
known she’d instigated the divorce, blamed her for ripping their family apart.
He’d yet to forgive her.
So, yeah, full quota of guilt here, thanks just the same. And
Layne did not need her. She prided herself on not needing anyone. It was a
sentiment—one of very few—she and Tori shared. One learned by watching their
parents’ dysfunctional marriage, by having a selfish, vain mother, a father who
ran off to sea every chance he got.
It was too risky to count on someone to be there for you.
Better, safer, to rely on yourself.
Besides, it shouldn’t matter to Tori what was going on with
Layne. They weren’t close, not like Tori and Nora. Or at least, she and Nora had
been close until her baby sister decided to hook up with the son of the man
who’d killed their mother.
Discovering the truth about their mother should have brought
them together, but instead they’d drifted apart. Living their own lives.
Whatever trouble Layne was in was just that. Hers. Tori had
enough problems of her own to deal with.
She grabbed her purse from her locker and headed back into the
hallway. Celeste stood in the kitchen doorway talking with Joe, the café’s
breakfast cook. Tori kept her gaze straight ahead as she passed them.
“Hey,” Celeste called, stopping Tori at the door. “Let me know
as soon as you find out what’s going on.”
Tori lifted a hand to indicate she heard then hurried outside.
The sun peered through the clouds and a cool breeze lifted the ends of her hair
as she clicked the unlock button on her car keys. She slid behind the wheel of
her ancient Toyota, cranked the engine and pulled out, heading toward the police
station.
Family ties. They bound and choked and twisted and tangled a
person up until they couldn’t break free. But if you took on one Sullivan, you
took on all of them.
God help you then.
* * *
T
HE
BRUNETTE
KNEW
how to make an
entrance.
She demanded attention. Walker studied the woman gliding into
Chief Taylor’s office, her heels tapping against the floor. A lot of it.
A small smile playing on her lips, she slid her gaze around the
room before landing on him. Though her expression didn’t change, he had the
sense she was sizing him up, trying to figure out how big of a threat he
was.
Her eyes met his and attraction, instantaneous and primal,
slammed into him, had his next breath lodging itself in his chest with painful
intensity. Jesus, but she was like a walking wet dream, all lush curves, long
legs and full, slicked red lips. Her hair was chin length, the ends razor sharp,
with a heavy fringe of bangs.