Authors: Rachel Gibson
Travis brushed off his pants and handed his coach the helmet. He high-fived his teammates, then took a seat on the team bench. He looked over at Mick and grinned, his one missing tooth a black shadow in his small mouth. If Gavin Black had been standing in front of Mick, he would have kicked his ass all over the schoolyard. How could any man run out on his son? Especially after raising him for two years. And how could his sister have married such a loser?
Mick placed his hands on his knees as the next batter struck out and Traviss team took the field. The best thing for Travis and Meg would be for her to find a nice dependable man. Someone who would be good to her and Travis. Someone stable.
He loved Travis and would always look out for him. Just as hed looked out for Meg when theyd been kids. But he was tired now. It seemed to him that the more time he gave her, the more she took. In some ways, shed become their grandmother, and hed stayed away for twelve years to get away from Loraine. If he let Meg, he was afraid shed become too dependent on him. He didnt want that. After a life of turmoil, whether as a child or living in war zones, he wanted some peace and calm. Well, as peaceful and calming as could be expected owning two bars.
Meg was the sort of woman who needed a man in her life, someone to balance her out, but it couldnt be him. He thought of Maddie and her assertion that she wasnt looking for a husband. Hed heard that claim before, but with her, he believed it. He didnt know what she did for a living, if anything, but she obviously didnt need a man to support her.
Mick rose and moved to the batters cage to get a better look at Travis standing out in center field with his mitt held up in the air as if he expected a ball from heaven to land inside.
He hadnt planned to kiss Maddie yesterday. Hed brought her Ernies card and the Mouse Motel, and hed planned to leave. But the second shed opened the door, his plans got shot all to hell. The black dress had clung to her sexy curves and all hed been able to think about was untying it. Pulling the strings and unwrapping her like a birthday gift. Touching and tasting her all over.
He raised his hands and grasped the chain link in front of him. Yesterday his timing had been bad, but there wasnt a doubt in his mind. He was going to kiss Maddie again.
Hi, Mick.
He looked across his shoulder as Jewel Finley walked toward him. Jewel had been one of his mothers friends. She had two obnoxious twin boys, Scoot and Wes, and a whiny crybaby girl named Belinda whom everyone called Boo. Growing up, Mick had hit Boo with a Nerf ball and shed acted like shed been mortally injured. According to Meg, Belinda wasnt quite the crybaby these days, but the twins were obnoxious as ever.
Hello, Mrs. Finley. Do you have a grandkid playing tonight?
Jewel pointed toward the opposing bench. My daughters son, Frankie, is playin outfield for Brooks Insurance.
Ah. The boy who threw like a girl. Figured.
What are Scoot and Wes up to these days? he asked to be polite. Not that he gave a shit.
Well, after their fish farm failed, they both got their commercial drivers licenses and now they drive big rigs for a movin company.
He turned his attention to the field and Travis, who was now tossing his mitt in the air and catching it. Which company? If he had to move, he wanted to know who not to call.
York Transfer and Storage. But theyre gettin tired of the long haul. So as soon as they save up enough money, theyre thinkin about starting one of those house-flippin businesses. Like on TV.
Mick figured it would take the twins less than a year of working for themselves before they filed for bankruptcy. To say the boys werent the sharpest knives in the drawer was an understatement.
Theres good money in flippin houses.
Uh-huh. He was going to have to talk to Travis about paying attention to the game.
As much as fifty grand a month. Thats what Scooter says.
Uh-huh. Geez-us. Now the kid was turned completely around and watching cars drive by in the street.
Have you talked to that writer yet?
He probably shouldnt yell at Travis to watch the game, but he wanted to. What writer?
The one whos writin a book about your parents and that waitress, Alice Jones.
After shed had lunch at Café Olé, she and Adele had gone back to her house in Boise to catch up. Adele always had really funny stories about her love lifealthough she sometimes didnt mean for them to be quite so entertainingand like a good friend, Maddie had listened and poured the wine. It had been a long time since Maddie had been able to reciprocate with funny and entertaining stories of her own, so mostly shed just listened and offered occasional advice.
Before leaving Boise, shed invited Adele to spend the following weekend with her. Adele agreed to come and, knowing her friend, Maddie was sure shed have several more dating horror stories to share.
Maddie took her dirty clothes from the bag and tossed them into her hamper. It was just after noon and she was starving. She ate a chicken breast and some celery with cream cheese while she checked and answered her e-mails. She checked her answering machine, but there was only one message, and that was from a carpet cleaner. No word from Sheriff Potter.
Later, she planned to find Mick and tell him who she was and why she was in town. It was the right thing to do, and she wanted him to hear it from her first. She figured she could find him at one of his two bars, and she hoped he was working at Morts tonight. She really wasnt looking forward to walking into Hennessys, although she would have to at some point. Shed never been inside the bar where her mother had died. To her, Hennessys wasnt just another old crime scene. One she had to visit for her book. She would have to go to note the changes and observe the place. And while she certainly wasnt afraid, she was apprehensive.
As she rinsed her plate in the sink and put it in the dishwasher, she wondered exactly how angry Mick was likely to get. Until her friends had mentioned it, she hadnt thought of packing her Taser when she told him. While he seemed perfectly nonviolent, he had shot Hellfire missiles from helicopters. And of course his mother had been a nut job, and while Maddie liked to think she had a special psycho radar, honed after years of meeting with them while theyd been chained to a table, it never hurt to err on the side of caution and a really good pepper spray.
The doorbell rang, and this time she wasnt surprised to see Mick standing on her porch. Just like last time, he held a business card between two fingers, but there was no mistaking that the card was hers.
He stared at her from behind the blue lenses of his sunglasses, and his lips were set in a flat line. He wasnt wearing a happy face, but he didnt look too angry. She probably wouldnt have to hose him with the pepper spray. Not that she even had it on her.
Maddie lowered her gaze to the card. Where did you get that?
Jewel Finley.
Crap. She really hadnt meant for him to find out that way, but she wasnt surprised. When?
Last night at Traviss T-ball game.
Im sorry you heard about it like that. Maddie didnt invite him inside, but he didnt wait for an invitation.
Why didnt you tell me? he asked as he brushed past her, six feet two, one hundred and ninety pounds, of determined man. Trying to stop him would have been as futile as trying to stop a tank.
Maddie closed the door and followed. You didnt want to know anything about me. Remember?
Thats a bunch of bullshit. Light from outside flowed in through the large windows, over the back of the sofa and coffee table and across the hardwood floor. Mick stopped within the spill of light and took off his sunglasses. Maddie had been wrong about his anger. It burned like blue fire in his eyes. I didnt want to know about your old boyfriends, your favorite chocolate chip cookie recipe, or who you sat next to in the second grade. He held up the card. This is different, and dont pretend that its not.
She pushed her hair behind her ears. He had a right to be angry. That first night at Morts, I went there to introduce myself and to tell you who I was and why I was in town. But the bar was busy and it wasnt a good time. When I saw you at the hardware store and on the Fourth, Travis was with you and I didnt think it an appropriate time then either.
And when I was here alone? He frowned and stuck his glasses on top of his head.
I tried to tell you that day.
Is that so? He slid the card in the pocket of his black Morts Bar polo shirt. Before or after you stuck your tongue down my throat?
Maddie gasped. Yeah, he had a right to be angry, but not to rewrite history. You kissed me!
An appropriate time , he said as if she hadnt protested, might have been before you glued yourself to my chest.
Glued? You pulled me in to your chest. Her gaze narrowed, but she wouldnt allow herself to get angry. I told you that you didnt know me.
And instead of you telling me the important shit like youre in town to write a book about my parents, you thought I would be more interested in knowing that youre kind of sexually abstinent. He rested his weight on one foot and tilted his head to one side as he looked down at her. You werent planing to tell me.
Dont be absurd. She folded her arms beneath her breasts. This is a small town and I knew youd find out.
And until I did, were you planning to fuck me for information?
Dont get mad , she told herself. If you get mad, you might get out the Taser. There are two problems with your theory. She held up a hand and raised one finger. That I need you to give me information. I dont. She raised a second finger. And that I was planning to fuck you. I wasnt.
He took a step toward her and smiled. Not one of his nice, charming smiles either. If Id had more time, you would have been flat on your back.
Youre dreaming.
And youre lying. To me and to yourself.
I never lie to myself. She looked into his eyes, not in the least intimidated by his size or anger. And I never lied to you.
His gaze narrowed. You purposely hid the truth, which is the same damn thing.
Oh, thats rich. A morality lesson from you. Tell me, Mick, do all the women you sleep with know about each other?
I dont lie to women.
No, you just bring mousetraps thinking that will get you into their pants.
That isnt the reason I brought you the trap.
Now whos lying? She pointed toward the door. Its time for you to leave.
He didnt budge. You cant do this, Maddie. You cant write about my family.
Yes, I can, and Im going to. She didnt wait for him but walked to the door and opened it.
Why? Ive read all about you, he said as he moved toward her, his boot heels an angry thud across the hardwood. You write about serial killers. My mother wasnt a serial killer. She was a housewife whod had enough of a cheating husband. She flipped out and killed him and herself. Theres no big villain here. No sick bastards like Ted Bundy or Jeffrey Dahmer. What happened to my mother and father is hardly the sensational sort of stuff that people want to read about.
I think Im a little more qualified to determine that than you.
He stopped on the threshold and turned to face her. My mother was just a sad woman who snapped one night and left her children orphaned, victims of her mental illness.
All this talk of you and your family, you seem to forget there was another innocent victim.
That little waitress was hardly innocent.
Actually, shed been talking about herself. So youre like everyone else in this town and think Alice Jones got what she deserved.
No one got what they deserved, but she was screwing around with a married man.
Now. Now she was truly good and angry. So your mother was perfectly justified in shooting her in the face.
His head jerked back as if shed slapped him. Obviously he hadnt seen the photos or read the report.
And your father may have been a cheater, but did he deserve to be shot three times and bleed to death on a barroom floor while your mother watched?
His voice rose for the first time. Youre full of shit. She wouldnt have watched my father die.
If he hadnt told her she was full of shit, she would have spared him, no matter her own anger. Her bloody footprints were all over the bar. And she didnt get up and walk around after she shot herself.
His mouth clamped shut.
Alice Jones had a child too. Did she deserve to lose her mother? Did she deserve to be made an orphan? Maddie placed her hand in the center of his chest and pushed. So dont tell me that your mother was just some sad housewife whod been pushed too far. She had other options. Lots of other options that didnt involve murder. He took a step back out onto her porch. And dont come here and think you can tell me what to do. I really dont give a damn if you like it or not. Im going to write the book. She tried to shut the door, but his arm shot out and kept it open.
You do that. With his free hand, he took his sunglasses from the top of his head and slid them in place, covering the anger in his blue eyes. But you stay away from me, he said and dropped his hand from the door. And you stay the hell away from my family.
Maddie slammed the door and pushed her hair from her face. Damn. That hadnt gone well. Hed been angry. Shed gotten angry. Heck, she was still angry.
She heard him start his truck, and out of habit, she locked her front door. She didnt need him or his family in order to write the book, but realistically, itd be nice if she had their cooperation. Especially since she needed to get into the lives of Loch and Rose.
Well, that sucked, she said and walked into the living room. She would have to write the book without their input. Her mothers photograph sat on the coffee table. Shed been so young and filled with so many dreams. Maddie picked up the photo and touched the glass above her mothers lips. It had been sitting on the table the whole time while Mick had been there, and he hadnt noticed.
Shed planned to tell him that she was more than just an author interested in writing a book. That his mother had left her an orphan too. Now he wanted nothing to do with her, and who she really was just didnt seem to matter anymore.
M ick pulled his truck to a stop in front of the Shore View Diner where Meg worked five days a week waiting tables and pulling in tips. He was still so angry he felt like hitting something or someone. Like picking Maddie Dupree up by her shoulders and shaking her until she agreed to pack up and go away. Like forgetting shed ever heard of the Hennessys and their messed-up lives. But shed made it really clear she wasnt going anywhere, and now he had to tell Meg before she heard it from someone else.
He turned off the truck and leaned his head back. His mother had watched his father die? He hadnt known that. Wished he didnt know it now. How could he possibly reconcile the woman whod killed two people with the mother whod made him peanut butter and strawberry jelly sandwiches, cut the crusts off, and sliced the bread at an angle just as hed liked it? The loving mother who bathed him and washed his hair and tucked him in at night, with the woman whod left footprints in her husbands blood all over his bar? How could that even be the same woman?
He rubbed his face with his hands and slid his fingers beneath his sunglasses to rub his eyes. He was so damn tired. After Jewel had given him Maddies business card, hed gone to his office in Hennessys and locked himself in. Hed searched the Internet for information about Maddie, and thered been a lot. Shed published five books, and hed discovered head shots of her and photos of her at book signings. There was no mistaking that the Maddie Dupree whom hed been planning to get to know better was the woman who wrote about psychotic killers. The Madeline Dupree who was in town to write about the night his mother had killed his father. He opened the door to his truck and stepped outside. And there wasnt a damn thing he could do to stop her.
From as far back as he could remember, the Shore View Diner had smelled the same. Like grease and eggs and tobacco. The diner was one of the last places in America where a person could have a cup of coffee and a Camel or Lucky Strike, depending on his or her poison. As a result, it was always filled with smokers. Mick had tried to talk Meg into working someplace where she wasnt likely to get lung cancer from secondhand smoke, but she insisted that the tips were too good to work anyplace else.
It was around two in the afternoon and the diner was half empty when Mick entered. Meg stood behind the front counter, filling Lloyd Brunners cup of coffee and laughing at something hed said. Her black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she wore a bright pink blouse beneath a white apron. She looked up and waved at him.
Hey, there. Are you hungry? she asked.
No. He took a seat at the counter and pushed his Revos to the top of his head. I was hoping you could get off early.
Why? Her smile fell and she set the coffee carafe on the counter. Has something happened? Is it Travis?
Travis is fine. I just wanted to talk to you about something.
She looked into his eyes as if she could read his mind. Ill be right back, she said and walked into the kitchen. When she returned, she had her purse.
Mick rose and followed her outside. As soon as the door to the diner swung shut behind them, she asked, What is it?