CHAPTER NINETEEN
TUCKER SUSPECTED Sean hadn’t been completely truthful with him. He knew more about Andrea’s death than he was willing to say. Too much had changed in his life starting at exactly that point, and none of it for the good. Yet Tucker couldn’t believe Sean had actually killed her. There was no violence in him, even now. Surely Tucker would have seen some glimpse of capability or culpability—something. So what was the real story? And how did Tucker get to it? He wasn’t a cop; he wasn’t a private investigator. He was just a real estate investor who’d been sent to prison for a crime he didn’t commit. Was he crazy to think he could unravel this thing on his own?
Probably. He yawned and rubbed his palm across the stubble on his chin as he signaled and moved into the fast lane of Eastbound 60. No, not probably—absolutely. He was in over his head. His name and face had been gracing the front page of every newspaper in the area for over a week. Sooner or later, someone was going to recognize him and turn him in, which meant he had only so much time to figure out who’d killed Andrea two years ago—and why.
But what did he have to go on so far? Except for proof of another of Andrea’s affairs, he had nothing more than he’d had two years ago—a dead wife but no trace of a body and tons of circumstantial evidence stacked up against him. Just like before, he had only unsatisfactory answers in response to key questions. For example, everyone wanted to know why he’d waited so long to call the police when Andrea went missing. But Tucker had simply assumed she’d left on another partying binge. He hadn’t wanted to find her badly enough to look for her, let alone call the police. He’d assumed she’d come home eventually. She always did. And their problems would be waiting for them.
Tucker checked his speed, realized he was doing seventy and eased off the gas. During the days following her disappearance, he was so preoccupied with work and taking care of Landon that he’d somehow missed the blood spatter in the garage. But how many people routinely examined their garages for blood? He couldn’t understand why no one would credit him with having the good sense to clean up the mess if he was going to murder someone. Why would he leave blood on the floor of his own garage for the police to discover almost a week later?
The questions and inconsistencies in his case went around and around in his head. Where were the answers? He was exhausted and desperate and no closer to the truth, despite the unsettling pictures of Sean and Andrea.
He was stupid to stick around Florence, hoping to dig up something he’d probably never find. He needed to flee to Mexico, to get out of town. He had some money. He spoke a little Spanish. He could cross the border and rent a cheap motel in Nogales, where no one was likely to ask questions or to bother him. There, he could build a new life with Landon, figure out some way to earn a living. Nogales might not be heaven, but he’d be a whole lot safer there than in the States. And he’d have his son.
Except Landon wasn’t the only person who’d come to mean something to him. As much as he’d fought the softening of his heart, he also cared about Gabrielle. Just the thought of her kicked his pulse up a notch. He knew he should get out of her trailer and leave her to enjoy her life. She was so much better off without him. To do anything else was selfish and foolhardy, but he couldn’t walk away from her. Not again. She was brave enough to jump into that fight, stubborn enough to follow him into the desert, compassionate enough to risk her own well-being to give him a place to stay, and beautiful enough to fill him with longing. She was more than he’d ever hoped to find in a woman.
He glanced in his rearview mirror to see what was coming from behind, caught his reflection and frowned. If he stayed in Arizona, he’d spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder, wondering what was going to happen next. But if he ran, he’d be giving up to the cruel fate that had already taken so much. He’d be letting go of the one thing he wanted most….
He wasn’t going anywhere, he decided, at least not without Gabrielle. Neither did he plan to spend another night sleeping on the couch.
* * *
LANDON TURNED the cookie he’d made for his father a little to the left so that when Tucker finally arrived, it would be presented from its best side.
“I should’ve let you write the words,” he said skeptically.
“Why?” Gabrielle asked. “You did a beautiful job.”
“The first two letters are just a blob of frosting. Looks like it says, ‘Come home’ instead of ‘Welcome home.”’
Gabrielle considered the cookie. Landon was right. It did look like it said ‘Come home.’ But those words held more significance, anyway. They were both praying for that very thing, that Tucker would come home, and that he’d do it soon. “It won’t matter once he eats it,” she said.
Allie pulled herself up from the floor using Gabrielle’s leg and demanded another taste of frosting. Gabrielle squeezed a dab onto her finger from the decorator bag Landon had just used and slipped it in her baby’s mouth. Allie rewarded her by clapping her hands in approval.
“Do you think baking is for sissies?” Landon asked suddenly.
“Of course not,” Gabrielle said. “Some of the best chefs in the world are men.”
“Really?”
“Sure. Do you like to cook?”
He shrugged. “I like to make cookies.”
“Well, that’s a little different. I don’t know very many kids who don’t like to make cookies. I think it has something to do with sampling the dough.” She grinned and wiped a smudge of frosting from his chin, and he surprised her by not flinching or moving out of her reach. He’d been skittish with her at first, reluctant to let her get too close. But they’d had a good day, overall, and she was making progress with him. They’d baked and swum and played with Allie. They’d even stopped by the drugstore before leaving Chandler and purchased a ball, a bat and a glove. Since Tucker couldn’t play with Landon, Gabrielle had stopped at a park on the other side of town and done her best to fill in. She knew she was running a risk that someone from the prison might see her, but no one seemed to notice them.
“You’re not so bad,” Landon had told her when she managed to catch a fly ball he hit right at her head. He might’ve been the coach of the Diamondbacks for the way that grudging bit of praise had felt to Gabrielle.
“When do you think he’ll be here?” Landon asked, his eyes again flicking toward the clock.
Gabrielle knew “he” was Tucker, of course, even though Landon hadn’t mentioned him by name. She’d been stalling him with, “Anytime now” for the past two hours. She’d made the mistake of setting Landon’s expectations too high. All that talk about what they were having for dinner had started the “When’s he going to be here?” countdown too soon.
“It’s like I was telling you before,” she answered. “Your father’s staying here is a secret. He has to wait until it gets dark so no one’ll see him come in, but then he’ll be hungry and want the dinner we saved for him.”
“And my cookie. He’ll want to eat that.”
“And your cookie.”
The smile that had claimed his lips quickly faded. “It’s already kind of dark,” he said, sounding worried.
“It won’t be completely dark for another half hour or so. Your father’s probably just playing it safe. I’d say we can expect him sometime after nine o’clock.”
“What if he doesn’t come?” Landon said. “Are you going to take me back to the Boyers’?”
Gabrielle extricated herself from Allie and feigned interest in cleaning up the mess they’d made. “Would you like to go back to the Boyers if you can’t be with your father?” she asked, hoping she sounded as though that wasn’t really a possibility.
He chewed his lip. Gabrielle ducked her head to get a better look at the expression in his eyes, which were shaded by his bangs. “Maybe I could stay here with you,” he said somberly. “You know, to help with Allie. I could watch her when you take her swimming and stuff.”
Gabrielle felt a tug at her heart. “That would be wonderful,” she said, but she fought the warm feeling that made her want to pull him to her. She didn’t want to love this child, to love yet another part of Tucker. Because of the situation and Tucker’s own resistance, she couldn’t expect the four of them ever to become a family.
The telephone rang, and Landon looked up at her expectantly. “Maybe that’s my dad,” he said. “Maybe he’s calling to say he’s on his way.”
“Maybe.” She wiped her hands on a dish towel and picked up the phone. “Hello?”
“Finally you answer,” David said. “What’s going on with you? I’ve been trying to reach you since last night.”
Gabrielle glanced at Landon, feeling guilty and anxious. What she was doing for him and his father felt right when she was by herself, but the minute she heard David’s voice, she began to question the wisdom of her actions. She shook her head to let Landon know it wasn’t Tucker, watched with a frown as his discouragement edged a little closer, then turned her attention back to David because she had to handle her conversation with him first. “Is there some sort of emergency?” she asked.
“No emergency. I just…I just felt bad about our conversation last night and wanted to make sure everything’s okay.”
“It’s fine.”
“Really? When I couldn’t raise anyone at the trailer for so long, I finally phoned the prison. They said you’d called in sick. I was so worried I was just getting ready to drive down there.”
“Oh, there’s no reason to do that,” she said. Had she given away how desperately she didn’t want him to come by speaking too fast? She took a deep breath, trying to rein in her galloping pulse. “I felt a little nauseous this morning, and thought I might be getting the flu. But it went away after a few hours.”
“And then you left the house?”
“Yeah, I took Allie swimming.”
“Where’d you go swimming?”
“In Chandler.”
“Chandler! You drove halfway here and didn’t come to see me?”
Damn. She’d been so thrown by David calling the prison, she’d said the first thing that came into her head. Why couldn’t she have told him she went grocery shopping or something? “You’re so behind with your work, I thought we’d better not interrupt,” she said lamely.
A pause. “I put in a lot of hours this weekend. I’m actually doing better.”
“That’s good.”
“I thought maybe you were with your mother.”
“I’m going over there tomorrow to meet Lindy.”
“You want me to come down and go with you? I’d like to meet everyone.”
Gabrielle’s eyes strayed to Landon. She had no idea how long Tucker planned to leave him with her, but now was not a good time for David to visit. She opened her mouth to say something to discourage him, but then she heard the back door open and Landon went charging down the hall, crying, “Dad!”
“Is someone there?” David asked.
Gabrielle bit her lip. She had the same impulse as Landon, to throw herself in Tucker’s arms, but she waved them both to silence the moment they appeared in the kitchen. “It’s just the television,” she said, feeling lower than dirt for lying to him again. They’d always been honest with each other, supportive. No wonder he thought something was up. She was breaking every rule they’d ever established between them. But she couldn’t think of any other way to handle the situation.
“Oh.” Another pause. “So you’re okay?”
“Yeah, I’m great.”
“Good. Listen, I’m sorry we’ve been having such a rough time lately. Whatever happened in the desert, at that egg ranch, it doesn’t matter now. It’s in the past. I know what you went through was pretty hard, and no one would be thinking straight after something like that.”
He was letting her off so easy. His kindness turned Gabrielle’s guilt into a physical cramp. “Thanks for understanding,” she said.
“Do you want me to come down tomorrow?”
“I don’t think so. It’s going to be awkward enough. I’ll introduce you next time.”
She hated the pause that met her rejection. “Okay,” he said at last.
“Thanks for calling.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Gabrielle closed her eyes as she hung up the phone. What was wrong with her? She was rejecting the father of her child in favor of an escaped convict with a chip on his shoulder the size of Montana, an escaped convict who probably felt very little for her in return.
I just called to tell you I’m thinking of you….
It doesn’t mean anything, she told herself.
“Who was that?” Tucker asked.
“David.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t like that guy.”
Gabrielle sank onto the couch and pulled Allie into her lap. “He’s not too thrilled with you, either.”
She expected him to pursue the subject, but he only shrugged. “Did you and Landon do okay together?” he asked. His eyes drifted down her body, then climbed back up, and the resulting hot flash made her wonder if the swamp cooler had broken down. Tucker was different tonight. Instead of scowling all the time and avoiding her gaze, he was watching her as if…as if he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She thought of his earlier phone call. I just called to tell you I’m thinking of you….
“Is it hot in here to you?” she asked.
He grinned, but then Landon stole his attention with the presentation of his cookie. “See what we have for you? It’s cool, isn’t it, Dad?”
“It looks great.”
Landon beamed at Gabrielle. “We made it together. We got pizza, too.”
Tucker squeezed his son’s shoulder and ate some of the cookie, making a big deal over how good it was. But his gaze eventually returned to Gabrielle. “Sounds like you two did pretty well today.”
If he only knew how badly they’d started off, Gabrielle thought, but she nodded as though it had been easy.
“You were talking on the phone about something being awkward,” he went on. “What?”
“Awkward? Oh, I’m going to meet my sister for the first time tomorrow.”
He hooked a thumb in one pocket. “What’s that all about?”
She told him about her mother, the day-care center where she was abandoned and the family who’d raised her. She also mentioned her plans to have dinner with her mother, sister and brother tomorrow night.
“I wondered what your childhood was like,” Tucker said. “You once mentioned something about the family you grew up with as though you didn’t quite belong to them.”
He remembered? He certainly hadn’t acted as though he was paying any particular attention when they were marching through the desert.
“What does it mean to be abandoned?” Landon asked apprehensively.
Gabrielle knew that with what he’d experienced, he could identify with her pain more than most children and spoke quickly to spare him any concern. “You’ve been through something very much like what happened to me, but it’s over and you don’t have to worry about it anymore,” Gabrielle said. “It won’t happen again.”
“Because I can always stay here, right?” he said.
Hearing this, Tucker raised an eyebrow at her, but Gabrielle didn’t have it in her to deny Landon. “You can always stay here,” she repeated, and she meant every word.
For the first time since she’d met him, Tucker dropped the prickly facade that hid the man he really was. A vulnerable expression flitted across his face. He masked it immediately, but she’d seen enough to make her want to hold him close. Although he tried to hide it, he had a soft heart beneath his tough exterior. The way he treated Landon proved it; the way he was staring at her right now seemed to prove it, too. He wanted something. If she was reading him correctly, he wanted her.
“Do we get to go with you and meet your sister?” Landon asked, oblivious to the emotion of the moment.
“Are you still going to be here?” she asked. She held her breath as she looked to Tucker for the answer.
He crossed one leg over the other and leaned against the counter. “Do you want us to stay, Gabby?”
She wasn’t sure how to answer. She wanted him to stay for the rest of his life. But she didn’t want him caught and dragged back to prison, and she knew her trailer wasn’t the best place to hide. She had both Hansen and David to consider. Even if they weren’t such a serious concern, there were too many corrections officers living in her trailer park; she couldn’t expect Tucker’s presence to go unnoticed for long. “I don’t want anything to happen to you,” she said.
“That’s not what I asked.”
Suddenly feeling self-conscious, she gave Allie her Tickle Me Elmo doll and got up to warm Tucker’s pizza. She had to pass him to get to the food in the refrigerator, and then the plates in the cupboard and finally the microwave, but he stayed right where he was, leaning against the cupboard with his hands in his pockets. She could feel the heat radiating from his body as she reached around him, could smell the subtle scent of soap that clung to his skin and remembered curling up with him in the cave that first night and feeling safe in spite of everything….
Clearing her throat, she tried to distract herself. “We ordered pepperoni and mushroom. Landon said you’d like that kind. We can add a few onions or green peppers, if you want. We weren’t really sure how hungry you’d be. We thought maybe you’d eat somewhere else before coming home. I mean coming here,” she amended.
“I’m hungry,” he said simply.
“Great.” She piled four slices on a plate and put them in the microwave as Allie crawled into the kitchen. Rocking back, her daughter plopped on her diapered behind and considered the three people in her kitchen. Gabrielle fully expected her to crawl over and demand to be held, or to insist on more of Landon’s attention—she already worshiped him—but she surprised Gabrielle by reaching for Tucker.
The pizza was already in the microwave, so Gabrielle moved to pick her up, assuming Tucker wouldn’t want to be bothered with a baby. But he gently pushed her aside and lifted Allie into his arms.
“What did you do today?” Gabrielle asked him as Allie kicked her feet and patted his face in obvious pleasure.
He playfully bit the chubby fingers she kept trying to stick in his mouth, and she laughed and repeated the game. He had to pull her hands away to be able to speak. “I tried to get hold of my brother, but he wouldn’t accept my call.”
“Why not?”
“Long story.”
“And?”
“And I visited an old—” he hesitated and shot a glance at Landon “—neighbor.”
“Who?” Landon asked.
“Do you remember the Marshalls?”
“Yeah.”
“I saw Sean today.”
Landon’s expression turned into a glower. “Mrs. Marshall brought the girls to visit me at the Boyers’ once.”
“Really?” Tucker sat at the table with Allie as Gabrielle took his plate from the microwave. “Wasn’t it good to see the girls again?”
“No.” He scuffed one toe against the other.
“Why not?” Tucker asked.
“Because Mrs. Marshall kept saying things about Mom that I didn’t want to hear.”
Tucker froze, his first bite of pizza halfway to his mouth. “Like what?”
“Like she’s sorry for me and all that, but some people get exactly what they deserve.”