All Fall Down (21 page)

“No, he is not sick because he goes to day care. You don't
catch
ear infections.” She sighed. “We've been through this before. And we both decided to pass on getting the tubes put in his ears in the hopes he would outgrow this. Remember?”

Her ex-husband, Connor realized, picking up his coffee and pretending interest in it. Calling to check on their child. And to shovel Melanie a load of crap.

“Look, Stan, I don't have time for this right now.” She was silent a moment as if listening, then said, “That's
your
opinion. If you'd like, call Casey's pediatrician and discuss it with her. I have to go.”

She hung up the phone and returned to the breakfast counter, her expression tight. “Sorry about that.”

“It's okay.” He glanced at her, then away. “Problems with your ex?”

“Always.” She attempted a casual laugh, but it came out choked. She cleared her throat. “Sorry again. He does this to me. He has a gift for it.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“I wish.” She sucked in a deep breath. “The thing is, my ex refuses to listen to any ideas but his own, his current being that everything I do is harmful to our son. He's in the process of suing me for custody. We go to court soon.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Me, too.” She looked at her hands, then back up at him. “No,” she amended. “Not sorry, royally pissed. That he would do this to me, but more, that he would do this to Casey. For no other reason than to punish me.”

“For divorcing him?”

“That, and for having the guts to make my own life. To do what I wanted to do with it.”

“He didn't want you to be a cop?”

“Are you kidding? He wanted me to
not
be a cop so much, he pulled strings that kept me out of the
CMPD academy.” She laughed, but this time the sound was hard, angry. “Sometimes, when I think about it, I'm so angry, I swear I could—”

As if realizing what she was about to say and to whom, she bit the words back. “Most of the time, I can't get past wondering what I'm going to do if I lose Casey. I can't imagine living day to day without him.”

“What does your lawyer say?”

“All the right things. That there's every reason to believe I'll retain custody. That Stan has zero grounds for taking Casey away. But still, I keep thinking about that worst-case scenario. It must be a mom thing.” She crossed to the coffeepot. “You want that warm-up?”

He glanced at his watch. He should go. But what he wanted to do and should do were two very different things, indeed.

“Sure,” he said and handed her his still half-full mug. “Why'd you marry him?”

“Stan?” She dumped the old coffee, then refilled the mug from the stainless-steel carafe. “All the wrong reasons, I know now. Not only was he incredibly handsome, but he had this aura of strength about him. When I was with him I felt safe. Protected.”

She slid Connor's mug across the counter to him. “Of course, before long I realized that all that strength was nothing more than arrogance and an overbearing need to control. I also realized he didn't want to protect me so much as own me. Realizing that took a bit longer. I was young.”

Safe? Protected?
Connor frowned. Needing those
things didn't fit with the confident, almost fiercely independent woman he knew. He told her so.

“I know.” She drew her eyebrows together, as if remembering. “I'm not the same woman now as I was then. I had a troubled childhood. My mother died when I was eleven and my father wasn't…he wasn't much of a parent. Or man, for that matter. We moved around a lot. Looking back, it makes sense that I'd have looked for security. That feeling of safety.” She sent him a self-conscious smile. “That sounds an awful lot like psychobabble, doesn't it?”

“No, it doesn't. People get into relationships for all sorts of reasons.”

She brought her mug to her lips, but didn't sip. “Enough about me. What about you? Why did you marry your ex?”

He grimaced, acknowledging that she had cornered him, and rather neatly at that.

“I married Trish because I thought she and her son, Jamey, could bring me back to life. I thought she could love me enough for the both of us.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, ouch. It wasn't fair to her or to her son.”

“Jamey. He's the one you told me about?”

“Yes.”

“You cared about him a lot, didn't you?”

“Too much. Considering the screwed-up situation.”

“Kids do that to you.” She began collecting the reports from the counter. “So, how do you want to divvy up the wives and girlfriends?”

He didn't answer, instead called her name softly and
in question. She stopped and met his eyes. “About earlier, before the phone—”

“Forget it.” She made a dismissive gesture with her right hand. “I have.”

That wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind.

“Have you?” he asked. “Forgotten it?”

“Sure.” She slid the papers into the envelope, then handed it to him, not meeting his eyes. He saw that her cheeks were pink.

“Not me,” he murmured, dropping his gaze to her mouth, then slowly moving it back up to hers. “I haven't forgotten. I'm not sure I can.”

He brought a hand to her face, cupping her cheek. Her skin was warm and soft beneath his fingers, and he trailed his thumb over her cheekbone.

A small sound of distress slipped past her lips even as she tipped her face into the caress. “Connor, I… This is a mistake. I mean, we're—”

“Colleagues,” he murmured. “I know. I've been over this in my mind a hundred times already. We're working together on a big case. An important one. Getting involved with each other would make for a potentially explosive situation.”

“And?”

“And here I am, wanting to kiss you anyway.”

She looked helplessly up at him, and he knew she felt the same way, that she had been anticipating this as much as he had.

This was going to be complicated.

“Connor, I—”

He brought his mouth to hers. Her lips were warm. And softly parted. And almost unbearably sweet. He
rubbed his lips against hers, then drew away, shocked at how the light contact affected him. Like a bottle of really fine wine. Or a strong left hook.

He swore softly. She had been right, this was a mistake. A big mistake.

He started to tell her so, but she didn't give him the chance. This time it was she who initiated a kiss, she who boldly brought her mouth to his. And God help him, he couldn't say no.

“Mommy?”

They sprang apart. Melanie swung toward the doorway, face bright with color. “Casey!”

The child stood there, cheeks flushed, his golden-colored hair sticking out in six different directions. He clutched a stuffed rabbit to his chest. “My ear hurts.”

Connor watched as she crossed to the child and scooped him up. Watched as the youngster wrapped his small arms and legs around her and pressed his face into the crook of her neck.

Saved by the bell, he thought. Twice now.

It seemed to Connor that he and Melanie were being sent a message and that this time they had better heed it. Life seldom delivered two warnings, never three.

He collected the envelope he had come with, then glanced at her. She looked embarrassed. Uncertain.

“Melanie—”

“Connor—”

They'd said each other's name simultaneously.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I shouldn't have let—”

“No apologies. As I see it, I'm as much to blame as you.”

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, he
couldn't stop it. That she was willing to accept an equal part of the blame meant she had been as attracted to him as he was to her.

Of course, that sort of thinking was in the past now. From this moment on, it would be business only between them.

She coughed. “It's better that Casey…it would have been complicated if we, you know.”

It was the
you know
that would keep him up that night. “Right.” He eased toward the kitchen door. “I'll see myself out. You've got your arms full.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“I'll start calling the victims' spouses and girlfriends. I'll set up some interviews.”

“Let me know.”

“I will.” He turned and walked away, wondering how in the hell he was going keep the hands-off agreement they had just made.

M
elanie took a deep breath and rang Ashley's front doorbell. Her hands shook. She'd just gotten off the phone with Veronica. Someone claiming to be Officer Melanie May had visited the Charleston D.A.'s office yesterday. They'd had identification and had been wearing a police uniform. They'd asked all sorts of weird questions about Veronica: who her friends were, if she had been liked, if she had any strange habits.

Veronica had been furious. She believed that someone was Ashley.

It couldn't be true. If Ashley had done what Veronica had suspected, she had violated not only Veronica's privacy but Melanie's trust as well. It had been the act of someone who was both desparate and out of touch with reality.

At first Melanie thought Veronica's accusation preposterous. Why would Ashley do such a thing? Then the lawyer told her about how Ashley had followed her the Saturday before. She had shared the crazy things Ashley had said to her. Now, Melanie wasn't so sure about her sister's innocence. Now, she was deeply concerned about her sister's emotional state.

No sound came from within her sister's apartment. The blinds were closed tight, the mailbox beside the
door stuffed full and sales circulars littered the mat in front of the door. Melanie shifted her gaze. The potted plants that lined the front steps were dead or dying, their once-colorful blossoms a dim memory.

Melanie drew her eyebrows together, unsettled. The place looked unlived in. Abandoned, even. Yet, her sister was home—Melanie had seen her car parked in the town house complex's lot.

She rang the bell again and waited, then knocked loudly, growing more alarmed with each passing moment. Finally, she heard a sound from within—a kind of shuffling. The dead bolt slid back and the door opened.

Her sister stood on the other side. Melanie made a sound of dismay—her vibrant, beautiful sister looked like death warmed over. Her skin had an unhealthy cast, the circles under her eyes were so dark and deep they looked like bruises.

“My God, Ash, what's happened to you?”

Ashley blinked, obviously disoriented. “I just woke up.”

Melanie glanced at her watch. Admittedly, it was Saturday morning, but it was also after ten. “Big night last night?” she asked.

Ashley stepped back from the door, allowing Melanie to enter. Melanie saw that she wore shorts and a T-shirt, both of which looked slept in.

She yawned. “I couldn't sleep, so I took a pill. I don't even know what time that was. Late, I think.”

Melanie frowned.
A sleeping pill? When had she started that practice?
“Has that been happening a lot? Your not being able to sleep?”

Ashley lifted her shoulders and yawned again, then motioned Melanie forward. “I need coffee.”

Melanie followed her sister, noticing that every drape or blind in the place was closed tight. The apartment was like a tomb, dark and airless.

“It's a beautiful day,” she said as they reached the kitchen. “How about I open a couple windows and let in some fresh air.”

“Sure. Whatever.”

While Ashley started the coffee, Melanie lifted the blinds, then opened the windows. “There,” she said, “isn't that better?”

Her sister didn't respond and she turned to find her slumped against the counter, staring blankly into space. Melanie dropped her gaze to the two mugs and jar of instant coffee on the counter. She arched her eyebrows. Ashley was as big a coffee snob as she was.

“Ash?” Her sister met her eyes. “Instant? Please.”

“I know. But I just can't deal with the whole bean thing right now. Too much work.”

Melanie shook her head and ordered her sister to sit. “I'll do it. Just point me in the right direction.”

Ashley did and she busied herself making not only the coffee but some toast and juice for her sister as well. Within moments, the smell of the rich dark roast filled the kitchen. Ashley seemed to come to life.

Melanie set the toast and mug in front of her sister, then retrieved her own and took the seat directly across from her.

Ashley sipped the coffee and sighed. “Sweet, good Melanie. The one who always took care of us. What would we do without you?”

“Hopefully, you'll never find out.” She motioned with her head. “Now eat. You look like you could use some sustenance.”

Apparently, Ashley's idea of eating was to tear off a piece of the bread, then crumble it between her fingers. Melanie watched her a moment, then shook her head, troubled. “What's going on with you, Ashley? What's wrong?”

She lifted a shoulder. “Nothing. I'm fine.”

“I can tell. You're doing great. Super, in fact. That's why you're resorting to sleeping pills at night.”

Ashley groaned. “I resorted to it last night. Don't blow this all out of proportion.”

“You having trouble at work?”

“Work's fine.”

“How about man trouble?”

“Get real.”

“So, what is it?”

“Why are you so certain I have a problem? Give it a rest, Mel, I'm fine.”

“Sure, you are. Peek in the mirror, sister-dearest. You look like a corpse.”

Ashley lifted her coffee mug in a mock salute. “Gee, Mel, I love you, too.”

At least her sister's sarcasm was making an appearance, Melanie thought, encouraged. “If I didn't love you, I wouldn't be here.”

“Come to think of it, why are you here? After all, I haven't seen much of either of my
devoted
sisters lately.”

“I can't speak for Mia, but between the Dark Angel
investigation, Casey's latest ear infection and the impending custody trial, I'm keeping awfully busy.”

“I can. Speak for Mia, that is.”

“Oh?”

“Mmm.” Ashley had destroyed one piece of the toast and moved on to the second. “She's spending a lot of time with Veronica Ford.”

“And that bothers you?”

“Yeah, it does.”

Melanie reached across the table. “It shouldn't, Ash. They're friends. Friends spend time together.”

“So do sisters.”

Melanie bit back a sigh. “That goes both ways, you know. You haven't called me in at least a couple of weeks. Not once.”

“Would it have done any good? After all, you're
so
busy.”

Melanie let out her breath in an exasperated huff. “What do you want me to do? Apologize? Tell you it's all my fault? Fine. Done. It's all my fault.”

“Screw you.” Ashley jumped to her feet and crossed to the window, squinting against the light.

“For heaven's sake, Ash! Just tell me what's wrong.”

“I bet you don't even think the amount of time Mia and Veronica are spending together is unnatural.”

“No, I don't think it's unnatural. They're friends.”

“Do friends spend the night together? I've driven by Mia's late and seen Veronica's car. And vice versa.”

Melanie looked at her sister, more concerned than
ever. “Ash, hon, spying on your sister is what's unnatural.”

Her face flooded with color. “I knew you'd side with her over me. I knew it!”

Melanie got to her feet. “Side with who? Mia? She's not even a part of this discussion. We're talking about you.”

“No.” Ash shook her head. “It's not bad enough that you and Mia closed ranks when we were kids, now you're doing it with Veronica.” She brought her hands to her face and Melanie saw that they trembled. “After the way I've loved you. After all I've given you.”

It was as bad as Veronica said. Worse, even.

“This isn't a competition, Ash. You're my sister and I love you.” She crossed to stand before her. She caught her hands and drew them gently away from her face. She used the opportunity to look Ashley directly in the eyes. “I'm worried about you.”

“And that's what brought you here today? Out of the blue? How much you love me?”

“Yes.”

“And you weren't prompted by anything else?”

Melanie was silent a moment, knowing how the truth would affect her sister but unwilling to lie anyway. She never lied—it was a lesson she had learned early and had never forgotten.

“Veronica told me something about you that disturbed me.” She tightened her grip on her sister's fingers. “She told me you followed her, and when she confronted you, you said crazy things.”

“Crazy things?” Ashley repeated, voice trembling.
“You wouldn't be referring to my comment about your good buddy being bad news? Or when I told her I wished she would go away and never come back?”

Melanie's heart sank. “Yes,” she murmured, aching for her sister, “I would.”

“Those aren't crazy. They're true.” Ashley's voice took on a desperate edge. “She's bad news, you just don't see.”

“No, I don't. Because there's nothing there to see.”

Ashley pulled her hands free and backed away from Melanie. “She is bad news, Mel. There's something about her, something off. You have to believe me.”

Dear God, Ashley had done it. She'd done what Veronica had said.

Melanie asked anyway, determined to give her sister every benefit of doubt. “Did you pretend to be me, Ashley? Did you go to the Charleston D.A.'s office, pretending to be a cop on official business and ask questions about Veronica's personal and professional life? Did you do that?”

“I should have known,” Ashley said, voice shaking. “I should have known you weren't here because you cared about me. This is about
her,
isn't it?”

“Oh, Ash…” Melanie fought to remain focused on her sister's needs and feelings and to keep her own emotions in check. “Consider what you've done. You jeopardized not only Veronica's career and reputation, but mine as well. Did you think she wouldn't find out? That someone wouldn't call her? That after the things you said to her last Saturday night, she wouldn't figure out it was you? She could press charges. The only reason she's not is because she's our friend.”

Ashley brought her hands to her face. She began to
cry, softly at first, then with increasing intensity. Soon her sobs so shook her body, Melanie feared she would fall.

Melanie took her sister in her arms and held her, stroking her hair, murmuring that everything was going to be all right. That she would make everything all right.

“I love you so much,” Ashley whispered, voice broken. “You and Mia. You have…no idea…no idea the things I've…I did for you.”

“What things?” Melanie asked softly, urgently. “Tell me what you've done. Tell me why you're so unhappy. I'm here for you. I'll help you, Ashley, I promise I will.”

Ashley went stone still. She eased out of Melanie's arms. “That's bullshit. You've never been there for me. Only for Mia.”

“That's not true, Ash. You're my sister, I'd do anything for y—”

“That's bullshit!” she said again, voice taking on a high, hysterical edge. “I waited but you didn't…you didn't come.”

“Come where? I don't know what you're talking about, Ashley.” Melanie worked to stay calm. “If you'll just tell me why you're so angry—”

“I shouldn't have to tell you, Melanie. I shouldn't have—” She bit the words back and looked Melanie dead in the eyes. “Just get out. Just get out of my house and leave me alone.”

“Ash, please.” She held out a hand, hurting. “Let's talk about this. Please, we're sisters.”

“Don't you get it? I don't want you here, Melanie. Your being here is upsetting me.”

Not knowing what else to do, Melanie left.