CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
TODAY WAS A DAY for change. Gabrielle knew that already. David had finally understood that she wasn’t coming back to him; he was finally moving on. Thinking about all the adjustments that would be necessary in their relationship made her feel strangely bereft, even though she was determined to help him stay the course. With time, he’d find a wife, and Gabrielle would embrace her, too, if she was open to the friendship.
But it wasn’t just David. Her life was changing in other ways. Last night she’d made love with the only man to whom she’d ever been able to commit her whole heart. Today she’d lost him. Now, as she stood on the curb of her mother’s house holding Allie and gazing at all the cars jamming the drive, she wondered how the people she was about to meet might affect her future. Was she doing the right thing by coming here—and today of all days?
She didn’t know, but she couldn’t cancel on such late notice. Good manners wouldn’t allow it. More than that, Naomi Cutter still intrigued her. Despite her conflicted feelings about the past, Gabrielle wasn’t ready to walk away.
Shifting Allie to her other hip, she adjusted the flowers and wine she was also carrying, and approached the house.
She didn’t even have to knock before Hal threw open the front door. “Come on in,” he said exuberantly, taking the flowers and the wine and waving her inside as though they knew each other well. “Everyone’s excited to meet you.”
His welcome bolstered her. Squaring her shoulders, she stepped inside to face a roomful of people. Lindy was leaning against the wall, smiling expectantly. A lanky young man of about twenty lounged on a chair placed in front of the television, loosely holding a remote in one hand, which he immediately used to silence whatever program he was watching. Her brother? A middle-aged couple sat together on the couch. They clasped hands as soon as they saw her, as though enthralled by the moment.
Her mother came from the kitchen wearing an apron.
“Here she is,” Naomi said. Her voice sounded as upbeat and happy as Hal’s, but Gabrielle could tell she was far more nervous. “Hello, Gabrielle. I’m so glad you could make it.”
Gabrielle’s smile shook, and she wished she had more emotional reserves for this encounter. “Hello.”
“Everyone, this is Naomi’s oldest daughter, Gabrielle Hadley,” Hal announced.
“Or Gabby for short,” Gabrielle interjected, feeling self-conscious with so many new people. “And this is Allie, my baby.” She turned so everyone could get a better view of Allie.
“She’s darling,” Lindy said to no one in particular.
“Gabby, this is your sister, Lindy,” Hal said.
Lindy was wearing a sundress and sandals and wore her straw-blond hair pulled back from her face. When she smiled, a dimple winked in one cheek, and Gabrielle could easily imagine a great number of men falling at her feet.
Stepping forward, she reached out to shake Gabrielle’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said. Her words were formal, but they were sincere, and her grip was warm and sure.
“It’s nice to meet you, too,” Gabrielle responded.
“And this is your brother, Conrad,” Hal went on.
Instead of getting up to shake her hand, Conrad smiled and waved. His actions were deceptively casual, though. As soon as he thought she wasn’t looking, he regarded her from beneath his gold lashes. But there was nothing unfriendly or standoffish about him. Gabrielle felt his curiosity more than anything else.
“And these two people,” Hal announced, turning to the couple on the sofa as though he’d saved the best for last, “are your aunt Margaret and uncle Peter.”
Peter helped Margaret to her feet and they both came forward and embraced her.
“You won’t remember them,” Hal was saying. “Peter wasn’t in the picture when you were little. Margaret’s your mother’s only sibling, and she was just going to college when you were born.”
“So you live in the area, too?” Gabrielle asked as they released her.
“We’re snowbirds,” Margaret answered. “We live in Utah during the summer and Sun City during the winter. We just drove down to stay with your mother for a few days so we wouldn’t miss meeting you.”
“How nice of you.”
“Oh, we wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” she said, a twinkle in her eye. “Naomi was so excited when she called.”
Gabrielle glanced fleetingly at her mother, who gave her a tentative smile. Gabrielle’s worst fear had once been that Naomi would reject her again, that her mother wouldn’t want to be found. But Naomi had called Margaret and Pete and, with hardly any notice, had them drive all the way from Utah just to meet her.
Yes, this was a day for change.
“Hey, Allie,” Hal said, taking her from Gabrielle’s arms now that he’d deposited the wine and flowers on the coffee table. “Wait till you see the new doll Grandpa and Grandma bought for you.”
Grandpa and Grandma. Gabrielle liked the sound of that, but she caught her breath when Hal immediately handed Allie to Naomi. Gabrielle wasn’t sure she was ready to share her daughter with her mother. She still wasn’t sure she could forgive the past—until she saw Naomi close her eyes and hold Allie to her chest with the same kind of relief Gabrielle had known the day she came out of the desert. Tears began to slip down Naomi’s face, and a lump the size of a baseball rose in Gabrielle’s throat at the sight.
“Gabrielle, come sit down and tell me a little about yourself,” Lindy said. “I’ve always wanted a sister.”
Gabrielle blinked rapidly and felt a smile finally come to her rescue.
It was definitely a time for change, and some of those changes were going to be good.
* * *
TUCKER CALLED SEAN at work. It had been so long since he’d dialed his neighbor at the accountancy firm that he’d had to rely on directory information for the number. But he had a receptionist from Broadstone and Brinkerhoff, Public Accountants, on the line now. Fortunately, Landon was inside the Quick Mart, shopping for candy, while Tucker stood at the edge of the property, using the pay phone.
“I’m afraid Mr. Marshall is on another line,” the receptionist coolly informed him.
Tucker leaned outside the booth so he could keep an eye on his son through the store window and maintain a clear view of the road behind him. Now that the police knew the make and model of his car, and that he was still in the area, thanks to David, he’d lost his advantage. And he was tired. He’d risked renting a cheap motel room on the outskirts of Tucson last night so Landon would have a bed, a television and a bath. But every noise in the place had awakened him—the showers in the neighboring rooms, the cars coming and going in the lot, the dispensing of goodies from the vending machine just down the hall. He woke several times, wondering if the police were at the door. Then he had difficulty sleeping after each interruption, because he’d start thinking about Gabrielle and how it had felt to take her in his arms. He’d remember her smile, the passion in her eyes when she gazed up at him. He’d hear her say, “I’m in love with you….” and at some point he’d have to face that it didn’t make a damn bit of difference whether she loved him or not. He couldn’t have Gabrielle no matter how badly he wanted her.
“Tell him it’s his old neighbor,” Tucker said into the phone. “If he’s still too busy, tell him it’s no problem. I’ll just drop by his place later.”
Evidently, Sean understood the implied threat better than his receptionist did. Maybe he’d checked to find his spare key missing. In any case, he picked up only a few seconds later. “What do you want?” he asked, his voice a desperate half whisper. “Why are you harassing me? I could go to the police, you know.”
“But you haven’t.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not too late.”
“If you were going to the police, you would’ve done it by now. You don’t want to talk to them. Why is that?”
“Hey, what can I say? I’m an old friend—”
“You screwed my wife, Sean. You know something about her death and instead of coming forward, you let me go to prison. That hardly makes you my friend.”
Silence. “Poor Andrea,” he said at last.
“What happened to her?” Tucker asked.
“I don’t know.”
“I think you know something. And I’m going to find out what it is. I’m sending the pictures of you and Andrea to a private investigator, who’s going to take a closer look at where you were the night Andrea was killed. While he’s at it, maybe I’ll have him look at every other detail of your life, too. You won’t be able to take a piss without checking over your shoulder.”
“I didn’t hurt her,” Sean said.
“Then who did?”
“When I found her in the garage, she was already dead. I thought Sydney had freaked out and killed her in a jealous rage. If you’d heard the way she talked about Andrea after she—”
Every muscle in Tucker’s body bunched. “You found Andrea in the garage?” he repeated slowly.
“I can’t talk about this here,” he said.
“Then meet me later.”
Sean sighed. “This is never going to go away, is it?”
“Just tell me the truth,” Tucker said. “Then it’ll go away for both of us.”
“If it was that simple, I would’ve said something long ago. Come by the house tonight,” he said, and hung up.
* * *
TUCKER KNEW when he went to Sean Marshall’s that night that he could be walking into a trap. Sean could have the police waiting for him, or some other surprise planned. But now that he was so close to finding out something about Andrea’s murder, he had to take the chance. The only thing he regretted was the fact that he’d had to bring Landon along. He wanted to spare his son as much unpleasantness as possible, especially when it concerned Andrea. Considering the circumstances, however, he didn’t have a safe place to leave him.
Landon stood next to him at the door, somber and remote, as though visiting the old neighborhood had cast the same pall on him as it did on Tucker.
“You okay, pal?” Tucker asked.
Landon nodded just as Sean opened the door wearing a black T-shirt with a motorcycle on it, a pair of khaki shorts and leather sandals.
“What’s he doing here?” he asked, scowling at Landon.
Tucker placed a reassuring hand on his son’s shoulder. “He goes where I go.”
Sean opened his mouth to say something else, but Landon cut him off with a polite, “Hello, Mr. Marshall,” which seemed to remind Sean of his manners.
“Hi, Landon,” he said grudgingly, then pushed the door open wider and waved them both inside. “Sydney’s here.”
“Is there a reason?” Tucker asked.
“You’ll see. Come in.”
Tucker followed him into the kitchen, where Sydney was sitting at the table, staring off into space. Dressed in a pair of ankle-length slacks and a sleeveless blouse, she had her arms folded and was leaning back with her legs stretched out. When they came in, she stood and smiled hesitantly. “Hi, Randy.”
Tucker nodded at her, noting the subtle changes in her appearance—the extra lines around the eyes, the new hairstyle, which was much shorter in length and darker in color than the way she used to wear it. Unlike Sean, Sydney had lost weight. Gone were the extra pounds she’d gained with her pregnancies. She looked good. “How are you?”
“I’m sure we’ve all been better, right?” She embraced him before turning to Landon. “Hi, Landon. Bet it’s great to see your dad, huh?”
“Yeah,” Landon said.
“Any chance you could put in a movie or something for Landon while we talk?” Tucker asked.
Sydney glanced at Sean. “That’s probably a good idea. Come on, big guy, let’s go see what we can find.” She led Landon into the living room and didn’t return for several minutes.
Meanwhile, Tucker leaned against the counter and tried to read Sean’s expression. What was going on? It didn’t appear that his old friend had betrayed him to the police. So what did he have to say about Andrea’s death?
The blare of the television reached the kitchen just as Sydney walked back in. “God, Sean. You don’t have anything here anymore,” she said. “The poor kid’s watching a tape of an old basketball game you recorded.”
“We don’t need long,” Sean said.
“For what?” Tucker asked.
“For this.” Sean pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Tucker.
Tucker slowly unfolded it to find a crude, hand-drawn map. He raised a questioning eyebrow at Sean.
“That’s where you’ll find Andrea’s remains,” Sean explained.
Tucker sucked in a quick breath and told himself not to overreact. “What are you talking about? How do you know?” he demanded.
“Because I buried her.”
Nothing could have held Tucker back in that moment. Moving before he even knew what he was going to do, he grabbed Sean by the shirtfront and pinned him against the counter. “You son of a bitch! You knew where she was all this time and didn’t say anything? You let me go to prison, let Landon lose his father—”
“Randy, wait,” Sydney interrupted, putting a beseeching hand on his arm. “You have every right to be angry, but this isn’t going to help. There’s more.”
Emotion was pouring through Tucker like a river. Logic told him he’d be smarter to let go of Sean and hear the rest of what he and Sydney had to say, to hear it all. Vengeance told him it was time to exact the retribution he’d craved for the past two years. This man had slept with his wife. Tucker could forgive that. But Sean had also caused Landon to be taken away from him and that Tucker could not forgive.
“Talk fast,” he snarled.
“Let go of him first,” Sydney said.
Logic or emotion? Tucker stared into Sean’s eyes, wavering. In his former life, he’d learned to solve problems with his mind. In prison he’d learned to solve things with his fists. Now using his fists came more naturally to him. But Sydney was whispering that Landon was in the other room, and the thought of his son ultimately cut through the anger shrouding Tucker’s brain.
“Tell me everything you know or so help me I’ll beat it out of you,” Tucker growled, and he meant every word. He was finished paying for another man’s crime.
The second Tucker released him, Sean shuffled to the far end of the kitchen. “I didn’t kill her,” he said. “I had nothing to do with her death.”
“Then why did you bury her?”
“I told you. I thought Sydney killed her. Once Sydney found out what went on at the cabin, she hated Andrea. She hated her for the affair, of course, but it was more than that.”
“She took Sean even though she didn’t want him,” Sydney said.
“She often talked about wanting to kill Andrea,” Sean went on. “She said she didn’t deserve to live, that she couldn’t bear to look at her anymore, and…and other stuff.”
Tucker looked at Sydney.
“I didn’t kill her,” Sydney said. “But I’d be a liar if I told you I thought she got anything more than she deserved.” Her voice, even now, was vehement.
“When I came home that night, Sydney was gone,” Sean continued, the words coming faster now. “I knew my mother had picked up the girls from school and was keeping them for the weekend. She could tell we were having marital problems and wanted us to have some time alone to work things out. Sydney was supposed to be waiting for me so I could take her to dinner, but she wasn’t here, and there was no note or anything. So I got a little nervous, wondering if she and Andrea had gotten into it, and went over to your place looking for her.”
“And?” Tucker said coldly.
“When I couldn’t find anyone inside the house, I went to the garage to see if the cars were gone. I found Andrea lying on the floor. She’d been beaten pretty badly.” He grimaced and his skin turned a pallid gray. “She was already dead.”
“You didn’t think to call an ambulance?” Tucker asked. “The police?”
“And have Sydney go to jail because I was too weak to rebuff Andrea at the cabin? I couldn’t do that. I thought what had happened was my fault. So I tried to protect my family by getting rid of Andrea’s body.”
Tucker stared down at the map he still held in one hand. “You buried her in the desert not far from Coolidge.”
Sean nodded.
“And where was Sydney?”
“I was just getting in my car to go to the grocery store when I heard you and Andrea arguing,” Sydney answered, taking over. “When you left, I tried to follow you. I wanted to tell you about the affair. I thought she should lose you, that a woman like her didn’t deserve a man like you. I hoped Sean and Andrea’s affair would be the final straw, and your leaving her would be my revenge. But you were driving fast, and I lost you in traffic. I drove around for a while, hoping to find you, but I never did. I even stopped at the coffee shop there on Broadway where the four of us used to hang out after the movies and had some iced tea while I watched the road. I knew you’d probably come back that way, but I had no luck. By the time I got home, there was no one at either house, and I couldn’t reach Sean, even on his cell.”
“So who killed her?” Tucker asked.
Sydney and Sean exchanged a guarded look. “We don’t know for sure,” Sydney finally said.
“But you have your suspicions.”
“At first we thought it was you,” Sean said. “Sydney saw you leave and followed you, but that didn’t mean you didn’t kill Andrea before you left.”
“That argument you had with Andrea was pretty heated,” Sydney concurred.
Tucker split his gaze between them. “What changed your minds?”
“I saw your brother pulling away from your house just as I was getting home to meet Sydney,” Sean said.
His brother? Tom had never mentioned coming to the house that day….
Sean was still talking, explaining what he’d seen and what he’d surmised from it, and Tucker forced himself to pay attention. “When I found Andrea, I assumed Tom had knocked at the door, couldn’t rouse anybody and left. I thought we’d been lucky, that if he’d found Andrea, Sydney would be going to jail for sure. But then he did something that’s always made me wonder….”
Tucker could hardly speak for the sick feeling inside him. “What was that?”
“He came over just after you were arrested and said he had the photographs of me and Andrea. He said if I told anyone about seeing his car at your place the day she was killed, he’d take the photographs to the police. Then it would be anybody’s guess as to who’d wind up going to jail for murder.”
“You’d disposed of the body and you sank Andrea’s car in the lake. You had no alibi and were at the scene of the crime.”
Sean nodded. “Exactly. I was afraid there’d be some sort of evidence in the car linking me to the murder.”
Tucker didn’t know what to believe. He had only Sean and Sydney’s word that what they were telling him was the truth. Maybe they were making some last-minute attempt to shield themselves. Or maybe they were trying to implicate his brother to confuse the issue. Tom had always been a screw-up, had frequently landed himself in trouble. But he wouldn’t have hurt Andrea. He’d have had no reason to hurt her. And he wouldn’t let Tucker go to prison for something he didn’t do…would he?
* * *
AFTER LEAVING the Marshalls, Tucker drove straight to his parents’ house. He’d assumed the police would be keeping an eye on their place, knew he was increasing his chances of being picked up. But he was beyond caring about this possibility or that. He needed someone trustworthy to watch Landon, and he needed it right away. Because he was going to his brother’s house.
From the moment his parents opened their door, they were warm and supportive. In deference to Landon, they didn’t ask a lot of questions. Tucker knew they had no idea that Tom was involved. They believed Tom had stumbled onto the pictures, then hidden them to keep Tucker from being hurt, and Tucker didn’t want to tell them anything different. Not until he’d had a chance to talk to his brother. Just now, he wasn’t sure he believed it himself.
His parents immediately made Landon feel welcome, gave Tucker Tom’s address and let him go. To Tucker’s surprise, he drove in and out of the neighborhood as if he was any other law-abiding citizen and not an escaped convict. He didn’t see one cop.
Tom was now living in Scottsdale on Camelback Mountain, one of the most prestigious areas in the valley. Tucker was shocked at how much he’d come up in the world—and that he’d used his own brother to do it.
The night was cooler than the past few weeks had been. Already Tucker could smell a touch of autumn in the air. It certainly wasn’t the turning of the seasons one would experience in most of the rest of the country; the change was far more subtle. But after living in Arizona his whole life, Tucker could tell when autumn was on its way, and he couldn’t wait. The heat this summer had been almost unbearable.
The other cars on the road, the streetlights, the storefronts and pedestrians flew past in a blur as Tucker sped through Tempe. Scottsdale was only fifteen or twenty minutes away from where his parents lived in Mesa. He’d be there shortly.
The winding road that led to Tom’s sprawling mansion was darker than the wide busy streets of the city. Tucker slowed as he crawled up the mountain, checking numbers on mailboxes as he passed. Finally he came upon the address his parents had given him for Tom and turned in to find a two-story Mediterranean-style house. The place was well lit, and several cars clogged the drive, all of them new or nearly new, and very expensive.
Tucker pulled his rattletrap Datsun in behind a shiny new Jaguar and cut the engine. His hair was windblown from traveling with his windows down, and his back was sweaty. Having gone several days without shaving, he could imagine how unkempt he was going to appear to the people in his brother’s house, but he didn’t care. He’d never been so angry or so determined in his life.
Slamming out of his car, he stalked up the drive and banged on the door.
A Mexican woman answered his knock. Dressed in a floral dress, she was small-boned with brown, wrinkled skin and black eyes that shone brightly in the porch light. Tucker guessed she was the housekeeper he’d spoken to on the telephone.
“I’m afraid Mr. and Mrs. Tucker are entertaining tonight,” she explained in her thick Spanish accent, stepping into the opening of the door to block his entry. “You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”
Tucker wedged his foot in the door before she could close it. “You haven’t even asked who I am,” he said.
“I don’t have to. I can tell you’re not part of the party.”
“Or Tom told you I might stop by,” he said.
“Mr. Tucker is busy at the moment.”
“I’m afraid he’s not busy enough. I’m going to talk to him whether he wants to see me or not, so if you don’t want a scene, I suggest you go get him.”
She surprised him by meeting this statement with steely defiance. “Mr. Tucker won’t appreciate the interruption.”
“Tell Mr. Tucker I don’t give a damn whether he appreciates it or not.”
Her mouth flattened into a short straight line as she glared up at him. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll tell Mr. Tucker you’re here.”
“You do that,” Tucker said.
Tom came to the door only moments later. Standing six foot flat, he was husky but well-built and looked spit-polished in a black suit and tie. His hair wasn’t nearly as dark as Tucker’s, and his eyes were more of a murky hazel than blue, but Tucker had heard others comment about their looks often enough to know they resembled each other a great deal.
“Randy, are you crazy?” Tom immediately demanded. “The police are scouring every corner of this city! You think they don’t know where I live? That they won’t check here? That’s why I couldn’t take your call the other day, man. I think they have my phones tapped.”
“That sounds a little paranoid, even to me,” Tucker said dryly.
“Hey, anything to protect my baby brother.” To Tucker, Tom’s smile appeared insincere. When had his brother become such a bastard?
Tucker stepped back to make a show of examining the house. “Nice place you got here. Were you protecting me when you spent my money to buy it?”
“Hey, that’s not fair,” his brother said. “I’m gonna give you your money. Don’t worry about that.”
“When, Tom? Now?” Tucker asked.
“Well, not now exactly.” He smiled again, but his hands were fidgeting. “I’ve invested it, you know,” he said, loosening his tie. “But it’ll make a nice return. I promise you that. You’ll get your money, and then some.”
“You don’t make money by throwing parties and taking cruises,” Tucker said. “You gotta work if you want to earn a profit, Tom. But then, work’s never been very high on your list of priorities, has it?”
Tom laughed as he shoved his hands into his pockets, but Tucker could see he was working hard to keep up his congenial veneer. “There you go again, little brother,” he said. “I just got married. A man’s allowed to celebrate, isn’t he?”
Propping his hand against the house, Tucker leaned close. “That depends on whether he’s doing it on his own dime. But we can argue about the money later. I’m here about something else.”
“What’s that?” Tom yanked on his tie, seemed surprised to find that he’d already untied it, and proceeded to unbutton the collar of his starched blue shirt. “If you need a few bucks to get you through, you know I’m your man. I have some cash here. Just give me a second and I’ll run up and grab it so you can be on your way.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Tucker said.
Finally, Tom’s smile faltered. “What do you mean? The police could show up any minute.”
“Then maybe you’d better invite me in.”
Tom glanced over his shoulder. Tucker could hear voices, laughter, the clink of silverware coming from inside the house. “It’s not really a good time, Randy. We’re having a few friends over, and—”
“And?” Tucker lifted a challenging brow. “Don’t you want to introduce me to your wife?”
“Someone might recognize you. Tomorrow would be better. Let me get you that money—”
“I didn’t come for money.” Tucker watched Tom intently, still hoping the Marshalls were wrong. He didn’t want to believe that his own brother could destroy his family, seemingly without conscience. He didn’t want his parents to have to face it, either. “I know, Tom,” he said evenly. “I know what you did to Andrea.”
Tom’s expression didn’t change. “What are you talking about?”
Tucker felt a burst of hope—until he realized his brother’s expression had changed, ever so slightly. There was a hostile gleam in Tom’s eyes that Tucker had glimpsed before whenever he’d caught Tom in a lie.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Tucker said. “The only thing I don’t understand is why. Why would you hurt her, Tom?”
His brother didn’t answer right away but all pretense finally left his face. Stepping outside, he closed the door behind him. “I didn’t mean to, Randy,” he said, his voice low, his eyes watchful. “I just went over to talk to her. But she was such a bitch—”
“For the most part, she always liked you.”
He chuckled without mirth. “She didn’t like me anymore. She figured out I never bought that piece of land in Gilbert you gave me the hundred thousand for. She ran into Harvey Wells, the owner, and he told her the deal had fallen through. I’d gone through most of the money by then, but I was planning on paying it back, Randy, I really was. Only she wouldn’t give me any time. She was gonna go straight to you. She was so angry, and I was so angry, and—”
Tom held his hands out in front of him as though they were foreign objects. “I didn’t mean to kill her. I swear, Randy. You’ve gotta believe me. She just made me so—” he doubled his fist and gritted his teeth “—so damn angry. When you and Robert lent me the cabin for that ski trip I took in January, I found some pictures hidden under the mattress. They were of her and that fat S.O.B. who lived next door to you, getting nasty, and I thought I had her then. But she still wouldn’t cut me any slack. She said it didn’t matter if I showed them to you, that you already knew and didn’t care. Nothing I said made any difference. She was pissed about the money and determined to ruin my life. She said you’d never be able to trust me again, never include me in anything. She said she was gonna see to it that I went to jail for fraud.”
“So you left her lying on the garage floor.”
He jammed a hand through his carefully combed hair, mussing it. “I flipped out, man. I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t mean to hit her so hard, but she fought me, and…and she kept screaming what a loser I was, that I’d never measure up to you, that I was going to jail. I went a little crazy, and then I panicked and ran. Later, when the body never turned up, I realized I had a chance.”
“And when they blamed what you’d done on me?” Tucker asked dully.
Tom’s gaze fell to the ground, but when he spoke, his nostrils flared with passion. “You’d always had everything. Mom and Dad preferred you, you got all the girls, won all the awards, beat me at every sport. It’s not easy having your little brother steal everything, even the praise of your parents. I was tired of playing second fiddle, Randy. I figured it was my turn. Luck had given me a break.”
Tucker rubbed his chest against the crushing disappointment. “Well, Tom, I guess your turn’s over, huh?”
Tom’s eyes darted up. “You’re free,” he said, nervously licking his lips. “Just get the hell out of town. I’ll give you whatever money I’ve got, okay? Then we can both be free. No one has to know.”
“What about Landon?”
“Take him with you. You have him, right? The kidnapping was in all the papers. We heard about it as soon as we got back.”
“You think I’m going to have Landon live a life with me on the run when I can give him better?” Tucker asked.
“But what about me, man? I’m your brother. You can’t hang me out to dry.”
Tucker thought of all the days he’d spent in prison. He thought of the foul odors, the fights, the abuse he’d taken from the guards, the resulting bitterness. The system had failed him, but his own brother had failed him more. “Sean Marshall knows where Andrea’s body is,” he responded. “He’s finally coming forward. The police will soon be examining her remains for clues and evidence.”
“So? It’s been two years. There’ll be nothing to prove I killed her,” Tom insisted.
Tucker felt no satisfaction at seeing the panic in his brother’s eyes—he felt sick. “You never know,” he said. “If I were you, I’d pack up and start running.”
He left his brother standing on the steps and headed for his car. After he started the engine, he glanced back at the door to find Tom gone. But Tucker still heard his brother’s words. There’ll be nothing to prove I killed her.
Lifting his shirt, he pulled off the voice-activated recorder he’d taped onto his back before dropping Landon at his parents. “Yes there will, Tom,” he said softly, staring down at it. “There’ll be this.”
* * *
GABRIELLE RETURNED LATE, long after Allie should have been in bed. She’d been visiting Lindy at her condo in Chandler. They’d gone to dinner at a nice Mexican restaurant and enjoyed a couple of margaritas while they spent time getting to know each other, talking about their childhoods, Naomi, what they wanted out of life. Gabrielle had only known Lindy for a few days, but she loved her already. Her sister had a quirky, almost irreverent sense of humor and a way of putting things in perspective that made Gabrielle smile.
Just after ten o’clock, Gabrielle had convinced her sister to drive over to David’s. They hadn’t given him any warning. Gabrielle had been slightly afraid he might refuse and she really wanted to see him. They ended up dragging him out of bed, but Gabrielle was glad they’d visited. It was good to be with David, good to know he was still her friend. And Lindy was more than happy to meet him. She thought he was extremely handsome.
Gabrielle was thinking about the possibility of the two of them getting together as she unbuckled Allie from her car seat and carried her inside. Dropping her keys and purse on the coffee table, she carried her sleeping daughter down the hall to her room.
It wasn’t until she was on her way back that she began to notice that her house wasn’t quite the way she’d left it. An open duffel bag filled with little boy clothes and a few bigger T-shirts rested on the sofa and there was a set of keys she didn’t recognize on the kitchen counter.
What was going on? Gabrielle’s heart started to pound as she examined the keys. Leaning over the sink, she gazed out the kitchen window to see a beat-up old Datsun parked across the street. Had it been there when she’d driven up? She couldn’t remember. She’d been too engrossed in thinking about Lindy and David.
Walking quietly down the hall, Gabrielle paused at the door of her extra bedroom. She was almost afraid to look inside. Would she find an eight-year-old with unruly dark hair and startling blue eyes? And, if so, would she find his father in the house, as well?
Hope stole her breath as she stepped into David’s old room. Sure enough, a small lump in the center of the bed told her someone was sleeping there. When she moved a little closer, she could tell for sure; it was Landon. Which meant…
Gabrielle hurried into her own room, where she found her comforter tossed carelessly onto a chair. The blinds were drawn, but just enough light glimmered through for her to be able to see the profile of the man she loved, sleeping in her bed. He was here. For whatever reason, Tucker had come back to her.
Kneeling at the side of the bed, she ran a hand through the hair that had fallen across his forehead. “Tucker?”
He stirred.
“Tucker, what are you doing here?” she whispered, so glad to see him she felt suspended in time and space.
His eyes opened. When he saw her and had a chance to wake up, his mouth slanted in a grin. “Isn’t this where I belong?”
“This is where I want you,” she said, “but what about Hansen? And the police? What if—”
“Shh.” He raised his hand and rubbed his knuckles across her cheek. “You don’t have to worry about that anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s over,” he said. “The police know I’m innocent. Everyone knows I’m innocent.”
“But how?”
“Can I explain in the morning? Right now I just want to feel you against me.”
Gabrielle hesitated because she could hardly believe it was true. “Just tell me if this means we’re going to be together.”
“Forever,” he said.
His one-word answer was enough. He’d never promised her anything before. She knew that if he said it, she could rely on it like the sun coming up in the morning. Stripping off her clothes, she climbed into bed with him, and he immediately pulled her into his arms. “I love you, Gabrielle,” he said. “I’m going to love you for a lifetime.”