The Other Woman
“Have you been waiting long?” she asked as she approached him.
He sent her a pointed glance. “Since six.”
“Right. You were on time. Of course.” She cleared her throat and shifted a roll of blueprints from one arm to the other. “Sorry about that. I had trouble rousing Keith’s mother. She’d forgotten she agreed to get the kids off to school for me.”
“No problem.” Trailing her to the shop, he waited as she unlocked the door. Then he followed her inside to find the gutted remains of a retail establishment, which he knew from the conversation the night before, had previously been a barbershop. He eyed the well-worn floor, the freshly patched wall, the wheelbarrow in the corner. A door at the back led to what appeared to be another room. “Storage?” he asked, waving toward it.
“It used to be a small apartment, which the previous owner leased out. When we’re done it’ll be my kitchen and pantry.”
He rubbed his chin. “So we’re starting from scratch.”
“Basically.”
“What’s the goal here? With the improvements, I mean?”
She unrolled her plans on the lone display case and let Carter take a look. “Have you ever seen the movie Chocolat?”
“Never heard of it.”
She stared at him. “It was nominated for several Academy Awards, including best picture.”
He was busy already noting what would have to be done, trying to estimate how long the work might take him. “When?”
“I don’t know exactly. Several years ago.”
The biggest part of the job would be the kitchen. The showroom needed little more than flooring and paint and the placement of some additional display cases and shelving. “Does this movie have any karate fights?”
“No.”
He glanced up at her. “Explosions?”
She scowled. “It’s not that kind of movie.”
“Then I probably didn’t waste my money on it,” he said, a shrug in his voice.
He was teasing, but if she understood that she didn’t crack a smile. “Your loss,” she said, sounding slightly offended. “It’s fabulous. Almost as good as the book.”
Having studied the plans, Carter crossed the floor to make sure Keith’s patched wall was dry enough to paint. “I’m guessing there’s a tie-in?”
She put down her purse on top of the plans, to keep the paper from rolling back into a scroll. “There is. I’m trying to re-create the atmosphere of the shop in that movie.”
“Which was a choco-later-ie?”
“That was a poor attempt even for a Yankee,” she said, making a face. “It’s pronounced chocolaterie. The movie is set in a provincial French town.”
He’d slaughtered the word on purpose, but he didn’t bother to point that out. “Just like this small western one, huh?”
At last she seemed to realize he was baiting her. Her mouth twitched as if she might smile, but she frowned instead. “I can only do so much. Anyway, Vianne, who owns the chocolate shop in the movie, has traveled widely and brings a bit of her mother’s Mayan heritage along with her. I want to decorate this shop the same way.”
“I’m not familiar with Mayan decor,” he said, facing her.
“Think decadent and sensually appealing, with a South American flavor.”
Carter hadn’t found anything sensually appealing in a long time, regardless of the “flavor,” but he pretended otherwise. “It’s starting to sound good.”
Too caught up in her vision to be interrupted, she ignored him. “You see, Vianne is serving more than chocolate to the locals—”
“And now it’s getting even better.”
She spread her hands in exasperation. “Would you quit?”
Satisfied he’d already made himself look like enough of an ass, he became more serious. “Okay, so what’s she serving?”
“Love, acceptance, change—a rebirth. I find the whole concept incredibly…uplifting.”
As much as he’d decided he wouldn’t let himself like Liz—nor let her like him—he couldn’t poke fun at that. Her sincere words seemed to echo around the hollow space inside him, making him crave those very things.
“Are you actually making the chocolate?”
“No, Vianne crushed cocoa beans and made her own chocolate. But there’s no need for me to do the same. Generally, only really large companies do that. I buy my chocolate from San Francisco.”
“Ghirardelli?”
“No, Guittard. For some of my truffles, I also incorporate European chocolate to produce my own unique flavor.”
“So they ship it to you from California?”
“Exactly. It comes in boxes of five ten-pound bars, which I temper and then use to create various decadent candies.”
“Temper?”
“Melt in a particular way, to keep it shiny and smooth.”
“What kind of candies?”
“Candies made with pretzels, Oreos, marshmallows…Strawberries, bananas and raisins dipped in chocolate. I also make fudge and truffles, even cakes and frosted brownies. But like Vianne, my signature is going to be rich hot chocolate.”
The passion and excitement in her voice again summoned memories of Laurel. Turning away, Carter pretended to examine the walls, making note of the nicks and gouges that remained. “We should really patch a few more spots.”
“Probably,” she said. “Old LeRoy wasn’t much for maintenance or housekeeping. The dirt and grime in this place was unbelievable when I got here.”
No longer interested in conversation, Carter let her comment go. “Do you have the supplies we’ll need?”
Her eyebrows inched up a notch at his brisk tone, but she responded at once to the question. “I should. Keith brought over a lot of stuff last night. It’s all in the back room. If we need anything else, there’s always the hardware store down the street. And the good news is that we finally have a sink that works, which should help with rinsing out trays and so forth. I just had the plumber install it yesterday.”
Carter glanced in the direction Liz had pointed. The bathroom door was only partially open. He couldn’t see the sink well—but it didn’t look right. Walking over to the doorway, he poked his head inside. “Did you say he already installed it or he’s going to?”
Liz came up behind him. She didn’t answer; she didn’t need to. The shock on her face, when she saw that the sink had been torn from the wall, said everything.
CHAPTER FOUR
LIZ STOOD AT THE BACK of the hardware store, trying to keep her voice low enough that Keith’s boss, Ollie Weston, wouldn’t hear them arguing.
“It had to be you,” she said vehemently.
Keith stepped closer, looming over her. His anger and indignation etched a deep V between his eyebrows and almost made Liz retract the accusation. He didn’t look guilty. But he’d been the last one to leave her shop the night before. Who else would have had the time or opportunity to cause the damage she’d found?
“Why would I do that?” he demanded, his voice rising. “I spent three hours there last night trying to help you!”
Ollie glanced at them from the cash register in front, and Liz felt her cheeks grow warm. When she’d first come to Dundee, she’d caused a huge scandal simply by virtue of being the Other Woman. Because Reenie had grown up here and was a popular figure, folks had felt protective of her, and they’d whispered about Liz, even stared at her, as though she’d purposely destroyed Reenie’s marriage.
A private person to begin with, Liz didn’t want to draw attention to herself now that she was feeling comfortable in this place. “Be quiet, will you?” she said.
“You’re accusing me of something I didn’t do,” Keith snapped.
“Who else could it have been?”
“Anyone!” He threw up his hands. “Christopher was playing with the key you gave me and lost it. I couldn’t lock up last night.”
“What? Why didn’t you call me?”
“Because I didn’t want to wake you. I didn’t think it was a big deal. The place isn’t even fixed up yet.”
Again, Ollie angled his head to see if he could hear what was going on, but Liz turned her back to him. “I paid a small fortune for all the supplies that are lying on that floor,” she said in a half whisper.
“So? This is Dundee. Who’s going to steal them?”
“I grew up in L.A., where people lock their businesses.”
He straightened a sack of fertilizer that had fallen from the shelf. “You’ve been here for a year and a half, Liz. You know what it’s like. The worst crime we ever see is drunk-and-disorderly. Why would I worry about not being able to lock the door? Especially the back one?”
Liz tucked the hair that was falling from her ponytail behind her ears. If Keith hadn’t caused the damage at her shop, was it some sort of hate crime? Vengeance from someone who blamed her for wrecking Reenie’s first marriage?
She couldn’t imagine anyone holding a grudge over that. Especially since she hadn’t done it intentionally and Reenie was so obviously in love with Isaac. Watching him and Reenie for two seconds revealed how happy they were together. The only people who weren’t pleased about their relationship were Keith and his family….
Narrowing her eyes, Liz stabbed a finger into Keith’s chest. “Your brothers would never do this, would they?”
“My brothers? Cal lives in Boise, for crying out loud. Do you think he’d drive up here just to wreck your sink? And Luke’s still in Texas. He’s staying at Baylor for summer term.”
“What about your father?”
Keith gave the fertilizer a kick because it had tipped again. “Come off it, Liz.”
“Your folks have never liked me, Keith. Even now that they help out with the kids, they barely speak to me.”
“They’re still struggling with what’s happened. You can’t blame them for that.”
No, she couldn’t. What had happened was entirely Keith’s fault. Which was one of the reasons she could never reconcile with him. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t completely forgive him for the devastation he’d wrought in her life. And she couldn’t imagine trying to belong to a family that resented her as much as Frank, Georgia, Cal and Luke did. She was the physical embodiment of the disappointment and embarrassment they’d all suffered over Keith’s deception.
“Are they struggling so much that they’d try and make me fail?” she asked.
His jaw dropped as if he couldn’t believe she’d even suggest it. “Of course not. They’re better people than that.”
Liz wanted to think so. But she wasn’t entirely convinced. Someone had torn the sink from the wall.
“Maybe it was Mary Thornton,” he said.
Liz bit her lip. She and Mary had exchanged words, but…“She wouldn’t go that far.”
“Why not? You know she’s upset that you’re opening a chocolate shop right next to her candy store.”
“When I leased the space, she wasn’t selling candy. She had a card-and-gift shop!”
“That’s my point. She’s green with envy. Grant Nibley did that big write-up on you in the paper and how you’re basing your shop on the movie and all that, so she copied you, and still her shop didn’t make the paper.”
“At least her store is open.”
“But not doing particularly well, from all indications.”
Pressing her fingers to her forehead in an attempt to ease the headache pounding behind her eyes, Liz sighed. “She’s just disappointed that she didn’t think of a chocolate shop.”
“I agree. She feels you’ve outdone her, and yet she has as much riding on her business as you do on yours. She quit her job at Slinkerhoff’s law office to make this big career change. She’s a single mother. Her ex-husband has been a total flake—”
Liz didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t feel sorry for Mary. Maybe Mary’s ex-husband paid his child support in fits and starts and rarely came around, but Mary had it better than she liked to portray. “Are you kidding me? How stressed can she be when she’s still living with her parents? When they’re helping her raise her son and filling in with anything else she needs? It’s their money behind that shop, not hers.”
“No one our age likes accepting help,” Keith said. Liz knew his parents had had to come to his rescue a time or two during the past eighteen months. Keith hated needing help. But that didn’t mean Mary Thornton felt the same. She used her parents.
“So why doesn’t she move out? Make it on her own?” Liz asked. “Like the rest of us?”
Because of her stepmother, Liz had run away from home at seventeen and had never returned. She’d graduated from high school while living with a girlfriend, spending most her weekends hanging out with Isaac at college.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I’m just saying that if you’re having trouble at the shop, Mary could be behind it.”
Liz stared at him. Was her neighbor really trying to cause trouble?
“Listen, I’ll pay the plumber to reinstall the sink, okay?” Keith said. “Then maybe you won’t think I caused the damage.”
Liz didn’t want him to pay the plumber. Because of what Dave had suggested earlier, Liz had accused Keith without any real proof, and now she felt terrible. “Thanks anyway, but…I’ll take care of it.”
She started out of the store, but Keith caught her arm. “Liz.”
“What?” she asked as she turned.
“You believe me, don’t you?”
She noted his earnest expression. “I believe you. I’m just scared,” she admitted. She was putting everything she had into the shop—all her money, her hopes, her dreams.
“It’ll be okay,” he promised.
There was a time when Keith’s words would have encouraged her. But her trust in him had been destroyed when Isaac had revealed his infidelity.
She nodded, but he still held her arm. “There’s something else,” he said.
“What?”
“When you first came in here, I thought…Well, since you haven’t mentioned it, I’m guessing you don’t know.”
The seriousness of his tone made her leery. “What?” she repeated.
“Your father’s in town.”
“No!” The word came out far too loudly. Ollie frowned at the two of them, but Keith ignored his employer.
“Yes. I ran into him at the gas station on my way to work. He looked a bit rumpled around the edges, as though he’d driven all night, but it was definitely the man I’ve seen in your childhood scrapbooks. I spoke with him briefly and tried calling you afterward, but no one answered.”
“I was at the shop,” she said numbly.
“I went by there.”
“Then I must’ve been at your parents’ house, dropping off the kids.”
“I figured you were in transit. And since you don’t have a cell phone…”
Cellular coverage had improved to the point where people in Dundee could now get service. But local reception wasn’t the best, and Liz couldn’t afford it. Keith didn’t have a cell phone, either. Since he’d left Softscape, they’d both been forced to tighten their budgets.
She blinked, wondering how she could even be thinking about cell phones.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She took a deep breath, trying to dispel the shock. “What does he want?”
“You haven’t talked to him recently?”
She shook her head. The past two Christmases, she’d sent her father a card containing a few photos of the kids. In more than ten years, that was the extent of their contact.
“That would explain why he didn’t know we were divorced.” A muscle flexed in Keith’s cheek. “It was pretty damned embarrassing.”
“Embarrassing?”
Regret filled his eyes. “Right before we got married, I called to see if he’d meet us in Vegas. He gave me some flimsy excuse, which made me mad, so I told him not to bother. I said you didn’t need a bastard like him, that I’d take care of you.” An uncomfortable-looking shrug followed this admission. Keith didn’t spell it out, but Liz knew what he was thinking. When he’d spoken to her father, he’d already been married to Reenie. It had only been a matter of time before he’d broken both their hearts.
But another thought surfaced on the heels of the previous realization. Was the way her father had responded part of the reason Keith had gone ahead with the marriage? In addition to the fact that she’d been pregnant with Mica? “You never told me you were going to call him,” she said.
“After I’d spoken to him, I was glad I hadn’t told you.”
The heat of the day seemed to grow worse, become stifling. A large fan whirred in the corner, but Ollie was too conservative to use an air conditioner in May. “What does he want?” she asked, wondering why her father’s actions still hurt so badly.
“He and Luanna have split up.”
Liz’s heart leaped into her throat. How many times had she prayed that her father would separate from the woman who’d made her life so miserable? How many times had she dreamed of reclaiming his love and approval?
“Is he here to see me or Isaac?” she asked.
“I’m guessing he wants to see both of you. Who else does he have, now that Luanna’s out of the picture?”
There was Luanna’s son, Marty, but he was Liz’s age and on his own. Liz couldn’t imagine her father being attached to him. Luanna had spoiled Marty so terribly that hardly anyone could stand him. But maybe he’d changed. Liz couldn’t say for sure what kind of man he’d turned out to be. She hadn’t been in touch with him either since she’d run away.
“Liz…”
She lifted her eyes to his. “What?”
He sighed. “You look devastated.”
“I’m fine.” After all, she’d had eighteen months to recover from the previous blow.
“You’re not fine.” Gently tugging her up against his chest, he kissed her head. Liz would have resisted, as she always did these days, but she wasn’t thinking straight. The news he’d just delivered felt like a knockout punch.
Keith smelled good. Familiar. Comfortable. Not so long ago, he’d meant the world to her. Certainly one moment in his arms wouldn’t hurt. Resting her head against his shoulder, she tried to decide what to do about her father.
“I know you’re under a lot of pressure right now, and you don’t need this.” Keith’s hands caressed her back, reassuring her with their strength.
Liz knew Ollie was watching, and that word of the embrace would probably spread. But she stayed where she was, too shocked to pull away.
“Do you want me to ask him to leave town?” Keith asked.
“No.”
“Why not?”
Because it was no longer Keith’s responsibility. He had no right. “I’m sure Isaac will take care of that,” Liz said. Her brother felt angrier toward their father than she did, even though Luanna had treated Isaac much better. His presence in the house hadn’t threatened Luanna in the way that Liz’s presence had.
“I wonder what happened to their marriage,” she said, still trying to come to terms with her father’s sudden appearance in Dundee.
“He said he got tired of Luanna’s bullshit. But—” Keith brought her chin up “—I got the impression it was Luanna who left.”
The sting of this particular detail surprised Liz. Had she hoped, after all these years, that her father had finally come to his senses?
What did it matter? It was too late, anyway. The girl who’d needed him so badly was an adult, now.
Straightening up, she disengaged herself from her ex-husband’s embrace. “So he’s here because he has no better place to go.”
Keith’s sympathy reminded Liz that he wasn’t quite as bad as she sometimes liked to tell herself he was. “I’m sorry, babe,” he said.
She smiled sadly and said, “Thanks. But don’t call me babe, okay?” Then she forced her feet to carry her out into the dazzling sunshine.
AS SHE EMERGED from the hardware store, Liz nearly bumped into Carter.
“You’ve already started?” she asked when she noticed the cranberry-colored paint that speckled his hands and hair and even the soft T-shirt that made the most of his muscular build.
“Was I supposed to wait?” he replied.
“No, it’s just that I was going to help you. But—” She shook her head, trying to order her scrambled thoughts. She felt like a punctured balloon, in the process of deflating. “Did you figure out the marbling?”
“Yeah. It’s easy.”
“Okay, well, I’ll be there shortly.”
“I could use a more expensive roller,” he said. “This one won’t last an hour. And I figure I might as well get a few of these while I’m here.” He showed her a tiny screw that he carried in one large hand. “We’ll need them when it comes time to reattach the light plates.”
“Light plates?” she murmured, unable to immediately picture what he was talking about.
“The face plates that go over the outlets and light switches?”
“Oh, right.” She waved a hand halfheartedly. “Tell Ollie to put whatever you need on my account.”
He peered more closely at her. “Is something wrong?”
She stole a glance down the street. “No, why?”
“You seem a little dazed.”
An old truck came rattling by. Holding her breath, she tried to identify the man behind the wheel….
It was Hawthorne Cawley, one of the longtime ranchers who lived in the area. The vehicle was probably one he didn’t bring to town very often, which was why she didn’t recognize it. Letting her breath out slowly, she said, “It’s nothing.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.” She began to step around him, but he cut her off. “What’d you find out about the sink?”
Anxious to get to her car and head for the high school, where she hoped to find her brother, she rubbed the palms of her hands on her shorts. “It wasn’t Keith.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“How do you know?”
She pulled her sunglasses out of her purse and took refuge behind the dark lenses. “He said so.”
Carter’s smooth forehead rumpled with impatience and disbelief. “You’re taking him at his word?”
At this point, Liz wasn’t as concerned about the vandalism as she was about the next twenty-four hours. How long would her father stay? What would she say to him? And how would he treat her children? He’d never even met Mica and Christopher. “I guess.”
“We’re talking about the same man who lied to you your entire marriage.”
She managed to give him her full attention. “Listen, I’m grateful for your help at the shop, and I’ll do what I can to compensate you.”
“But…”
“I don’t need any of your cynical bullshit right now,” she said and walked away.
She knew he stared after her, that she’d surprised him once again. But she couldn’t find it in herself to care.
CARTER HAD QUIT HIS JOB with the Federal Bureau of Investigation shortly after Laurel’s funeral. He knew he’d never go back. But he was still a cop at heart, and that made him reluctant to allow the mystery of the vandalized bathroom to go unsolved. Someone had been inside Liz O’Connell’s chocolate shop; someone had caused the damage. He intended to find out who was responsible—and he doubted he’d have to work very hard to do it. The way Liz had muttered, “Keith!” before she’d stormed out and marched over to the hardware store told him she had reason to believe it might be her ex-husband. Which meant Keith probably had a solid motive. And a solid motive made him Carter’s best suspect. Maybe Liz’s ex denied ripping the sink from the wall, but any man who could lead the double life Keith had led had to be one hell of a liar.
Carter hated liars almost as much as he hated petty thieves and vandals. In seven years with the bureau, he’d learned that small crimes stemmed from the same lack of regard for others that fostered larger crimes.
“Can I help you?” An old guy with spidery veins covering his ruddy cheeks stood at the cash register.
Carter paused long enough to hold up the screw. “Can you tell me where I can find these?”
He took a moment to peer at it. “Aisle nine.”
“Thanks.” Carter moved on. He hoped to run into Liz’s ex while he shopped. But he found a new paint roller and the right screws without meeting anyone else, so he wandered about the store until he heard voices coming from the nursery that leaned against one side of the building.
Sure enough, there was a tall dark-blond man inside. Judging by his T-shirt, which had Ollie’s Hardware written across it in red, and by his approximate age, Carter guessed he’d found Keith.
Taking a well-worn dirt path that snaked through the plants, Carter drew closer and listened as Keith spoke to a middle-aged woman and her teenage son. They wanted advice on getting rid of snails in their garden without using pesticides.