In This Town (13 page)

She missed him, she realized with a jolt. Not as her husband or
lover, but as her friend.

“Do either of you want coffee?” she asked, trying to ignore the
ache in her head, the way her stomach turned.

Greg looked to Colleen, who shook her head. “No, thanks,” he
said. “Listen, we need to tell you something.”

“Did something happen with Brandon?” Tori asked.

After the fight yesterday, she and Greg had agreed that Brandon
should be grounded for a month with no electronics of any sort, then they’d gone
with him over to the Nashes to apologize to Dalton and his parents.

Tori had sat on their ugly, floral-print couch, all the while
remembering what Brandon had told her Dalton had said. She’d felt ill and
guilty, as if she’d somehow done something wrong, as if there was something
wrong with her, something lacking in her as a mother. Those thoughts, those
worries, had pushed her into going to Walker’s motel room.

He’d been right. She had been lonely. Had been so tired of
being alone.

Then he’d proved why being alone was so much better.

“No,” Greg said. “Brandon’s fine. It’s…it’s about us.”

“Us?” No sooner was the word out of Tori’s mouth than she
realized he wasn’t referring to them—him and her—but to him and Colleen.

He tugged on Colleen’s hand and brought her forward to stand
next to him. “Colleen and I are getting married.”

Tori jerked her gaze from their faces to Colleen’s left hand,
saw the ring sparkling there. “You…” She inhaled deeply to quell the nausea in
her stomach. “That’s…great. Congratulations. Does Brandon know?”

Greg nodded. “We told him at breakfast.”

“Oh.” She swallowed, rubbed her thumbnail along the crease of
the counter. She had no idea what to say. She wanted Greg to be happy, of course
she did. But shouldn’t he have waited a little longer?

It hadn’t taken him long to replace her.

“Have you set a date?” she managed to ask, proud she sounded so
mature and reasonable when she hated herself for feeling so envious and
petty.

“I’d like a Christmas wedding,” Colleen said, smiling shyly at
Greg.

“That sounds…nice.”

“Tori,” Greg said, “there’s something else. It’s about
Brandon…”

“He’s not happy about the engagement?” she guessed. She could
only imagine how this would affect him.

“No, just the opposite. He’s really excited about it. In fact,
he…” Greg pressed his lips together, softened his voice. “Tori, he wants to live
with us.”

Tori stilled, could hear the pounding of her heart in her ears.
All she could do was stare at Greg. Finally she blinked. “I’m sorry....
What?”

Greg looked at her with such pity, it almost undid her. Even
Colleen, plain Colleen who’d probably never had a boyfriend before Greg, who was
so much…less than Tori, pitied her.

“Brandon wants to live with Colleen and me,” Greg said.

“Brandon lives here,” Tori said, her lips barely moving. “He
lives with me. We agreed he’d stay with me.”

When she’d asked Greg for a separation a year ago, had asked
him to move out to give them both time to figure out what they wanted, he’d
agreed without hesitation. Without argument. And, after two months when she’d
realized they were both better off on their own, when she’d told him she wanted
a divorce, he’d gone along with it. Good ol’ Greg, always giving her what she
wanted.

She knew, had known for years, she was honest enough to admit
to herself, that their marriage wasn’t working, would never work. Greg gave too
much.

Tori took. She was a taker, like her mother. And she hadn’t
wanted him to end up like her father.

But she’d also wanted more out of her life. Was that really so
wrong? So selfish? Didn’t she deserve to have everything she wanted? Why did
that make her a bad person, a bad mother?

She and Greg didn’t have a formal custody agreement because
they’d both wanted Brandon to stay in the house where he’d always lived. They
had wanted to give him that stability.

“We did agree to that,” Greg said, as always patient, “but now
circumstances have changed and I think we should do what’s best for
Brandon.”

Tori trembled with outrage, with pain. “I’m what’s best for
Brandon. I’m his mother.”

She had always prided herself on being a good mother, one who’d
given her son equal amounts love and discipline. Time, attention and freedom to
explore who he was, who he wanted to be. She was nothing like her own mother
who’d only been good at being fun and beautiful. Tori hadn’t had enough of her
mother’s attention so she’d made sure Brandon hadn’t lacked for hers in any way.
And now that wasn’t good enough?

She wasn’t good enough as a mother.

“No,” Tori said. “No. Brandon lives here and he’ll continue to
live here.”

Greg looked disappointed in her, as if he was her father and
not her ex-husband. “I think we need to take Brandon’s wants and needs into
consideration.”

“Brandon wants us to not have gotten divorced,” she said
flatly. “He needs to know he can’t always get his own way.”

She hated knowing her son didn’t want her, didn’t want to be
with her. Hated having this conversation in front of Colleen, the next Mrs.
Gregory Mott. It was humiliating, not being good enough.

“This isn’t about him getting his own way,” Greg said while
Colleen just looked uncomfortable. “This is about doing what’s best for him. And
if you don’t agree that he can move in with us, that he can live with me
full-time, we’ll have to go to court.”

Her teeth clenched, her hands fisted, and she nodded sharply
once. “You want a fight? Fine. Because I’m not giving up my son without
one.”

Greg sighed and led Colleen to the door. Colleen stepped out
but Greg turned back to Tori. “I’m sorry it has to come to this.”

The worst part? He meant it. He was nothing if not sincere and
so good she’d often felt lacking next to him, being with him. As if she was
holding him back. When he’d held her back just as much.

He shut the door quietly behind him and she stood in the
kitchen, her arms crossed, her heart pounding as she listened to them drive
away.

“You can’t make me stay here.”

She whirled around to find Brandon standing in the doorway
between the kitchen and living room, his face flushed, his shoulders
hunched.

“You live here,” she said. “When we split up, your father and I
agreed you’d live with me.”

“You didn’t split up,” her son spat at her. “You kicked him
out. You didn’t want to be married anymore so you just quit.”

“It’s not quite as simple as that,” she said, fighting not to
lose her temper. “Your father and I care about each other very much but that’s
not enough to make a marriage work.”

“It worked until last year.”

God, if only life was as simple as a preteen saw it. “It wasn’t
enough, what Greg and I had wasn’t enough for either of us.” She softened her
tone. “I know it’s hard for you to understand now, but when you’re older—”

“I’ll never understand,” he yelled. “And I don’t want to live
here. I don’t want to live with you.”

Temper began to simmer in her veins. “Well, let me give you a
hard life lesson. You don’t always get what you want.”

His eyes flashed, but his bottom lip quivered. “I hate
you.”

He stomped off, his feet too big, his arms and legs too
long.

“Yeah?” she muttered, her heart breaking. “Well, I’m not too
crazy for you at the moment, either.”

* * *

T
UESDAY
AFTERNOON
,
Walker sat
behind Chief Taylor’s desk as Tori entered the office.

As in the first time he’d seen her, he couldn’t take his eyes
off her. In a pair of loose, faded jeans and a sweatshirt that fell off one
shoulder, her face clean of everything but the barest of makeup, she looked
approachable and…real.

And she wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“Something wrong, Detective?” she asked, sitting in one of the
chairs he’d set up across from him. She lifted her gaze to his for the briefest
of seconds. “You’re staring,” she said flatly.

“And here I thought that’s what you wanted. Attention.”

“Well, I certainly seem to have captured yours.”

That was truer than he wanted to admit. Even to himself.

“You’re here,” Nora said to Tori as she and Layne came into the
room. “You’re early.”

“Don’t sound so shocked, baby girl. I have been known to be
punctual every once in a while.”

“Right, but only when it’s about you.” Layne took the seat
farthest from Tori then looked to Walker. He didn’t like the calculation in her
eyes or her smirk. “Did you enjoy your first weekend in Mystic Point,
Detective?”

He glanced at Tori. “Excuse me?”

“Aren’t you the polite little cop?” Tori muttered.

“Just wondering if you had fun at the Yacht Pub the other night
and whatever you—” she sent Tori a pointed, accusatory look “—did…after.”

Tori’s shoulders went rigid but she didn’t defend herself,
didn’t tell her sister to mind her own business or to go to hell.

He wished she would.

Walker drummed his fingers on the table. “Word gets around fast
here.”

“That it does. Small town. Plus, when you’re a cop, people love
to spread tales about what’s going on, especially if it involves your family or
a sister who has decided to sleep with the enemy.”

Nora stared at the ceiling as if God Himself had carved a
message for her there. Tori said nothing.

He found himself wanting to defend her, wanting to protect
her.

Hell.

“I’d think you’d be used to rumors,” he said. She and her
sisters had spent their entire lives being talked about, their family fodder for
gossips and speculation.

“I don’t think it’s something you ever get used to,” Layne
said. “Then again, if people wouldn’t make such stupid decisions, there wouldn’t
be as much to talk about.”

“Have you ever made a mistake, Captain?” he asked, feeling
Tori’s eyes on him. “Ever do something you wished you could take back?”

The captain’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, I’ve made mistakes. But I
try to learn from them, not repeat them endlessly in the hope that the outcome
will be different.”

“If I’d wanted your opinion,” Tori told her sister, her voice
giving none of her thoughts away, “I would’ve asked for it.”

“You don’t ask because you know I’m not going to agree,” Layne
said.

Walker knew he shouldn’t get involved but he didn’t like
hearing Layne’s not-so-subtle inference that Tori was somehow less than her
sisters. Less bright, less virtuous, less worthy.

Damn, but he was losing his footing with Tori. He needed to
keep his emotional distance. There were too many unknown variables and too many
connections, things were too intertwined for him to start to question his
initial judgment of her.

Besides, he hated being wrong.

“Look,” Layne said, glaring at him as if he was a bug she’d
like to stomp on, “can we get on with this? You insisted we all drop what we
were doing and meet you so let’s hear what your big secret discovery is so we
can all go on our merry ways.”

“Fine by me.” He was starting to doubt the wisdom of calling
them. Yes, they were all involved in his investigation but that didn’t mean he
had to keep them abreast of every development. But he’d wanted to see their
reactions when he told them what he’d found. “I thought this might interest
you.”

Walker handed a piece of paper to Layne, noting the emotions
flicking across her face as she read the information. Confusion. Surprise.
Denial.

“What the hell is this? Where did you get this?” she demanded,
slamming the paper down.

Tori picked it up, frowned as she read it. “I don’t get
it.”

“It says a large sum of money was deposited into an account
Dale used after he left Mystic Point all those years ago. And that the money was
traced back to Uncle Ken.”

“What?” Tori scanned the paper again. “That’s ridiculous.
There’s a mistake.”

“No mistake,” Walker assured them. His buddy in the Boston
office had uncovered the real name behind the mysterious account. “I
double-checked and had other sources verify the information. Two days before
your mother disappeared, Kenneth Sullivan transferred half a million dollars
from an off-shore account set up under a dummy corporation to the account of
Joel Cannella. Mr. York has been living as Joel Cannella for the past eighteen
years. We also found that the initial account was set up under two names, the
other one being a Whitney Williams.”

Layne and Tori exchanged a look, while Nora stared at her
hands.

“What?” he asked.

“Whitney was our maternal grandmother’s maiden name,” Tori
said.

“Tori,” Layne warned.

“What does it matter? The truth’s going to come out.”

Nora made a sound like she’d been hit in the stomach.

“You okay, Miss Sullivan?” Walker asked.

She nodded, still wouldn’t lift her head.

“I had your uncle brought in for questioning a few hours ago
but he wasn’t cooperative.” Sullivan had refused to answer their questions and
had told them that if they wanted to talk to him again, they could do so in the
presence of his attorney. But Walker had noticed that Mr. Sullivan had seemed
nervous and on edge. He was hiding something.

“There could be any number of reasons that Uncle Ken’s name was
on that account,” Layne insisted. “He could have been set up by someone, maybe
even Dale. York was a sneaky bastard.”

From what Walker knew, that was true. York had been mean and
violent but more than that, perhaps what made him more dangerous, was that he
was also smart. Clever.

“It’s possible that’s the case,” Walker agreed. Hell, anything
was possible, though it wasn’t likely. “Or maybe your uncle knew exactly what
was going on.”

Tori moved to the edge of her seat. “What are you saying?”