About That Man (15 page)

“If he's not too busy in the kitchen, I'm sure he would,” Daisy said. “And ask him if he'd like to join us for lunch.”

Still struggling not to show too much enthusiasm, Tommy shrugged. “I guess I can do that.”

He walked slowly between the tables on the outside deck before breaking into a run.

“Clever tactic,” Walker said approvingly.

“He loves boats. I thought it might distract him.”

“I was thinking of the way you managed to get me all to yourself again,” he teased, just to see the color rise in her cheeks.

“I did nothing of the kind,” she said, bristling.

“Here we are, all alone,” he pointed out. “Worked like a charm.”

“You're impossible.” She frowned.

“Pretty much,” he agreed. He glanced around at the sea of unoccupied tables. “It's awfully quiet here today.”

“It's still early in the season,” she said, sounding vaguely defensive. “Besides, with the sun out and the temperature finally in the low eighties, the people who are
around are probably working in their yards or out on their boats. I imagine this place will be busy enough at dinner.”

“I wasn't criticizing,” Walker said.

Daisy sighed. “I know. It's just that you sounded a lot like Daddy. He never has anything good to say about this place. He hates the fact that Bobby's here, instead of taking over his herd of Black Angus. It would be bad enough if it were just a marina, but his son—his namesake—actually cooks.”

Walker chuckled. “Yeah, I can see where that might grate on a man like King.”

“Mind you, it doesn't stop him from bringing his friends here so he can boast that he's buying them the best crab dinner in the Northern Neck. He just doesn't like admitting that it's his son who's preparing it.”

“Does his attitude bother your brother?”

“Not much. Bobby has a very strong sense of who he is and what he wants in life. Ironically, he got that from Daddy. He says once he owns most of the waterfront property in town and puts this place on the map, Daddy will be bragging to everyone that
he
was the one who encouraged him.”

“But you don't believe it, do you?” Walker guessed, reading the doubt in her expression.

“No. I think Daddy's going to hate that even more. He's a huge believer in the status quo. He doesn't see any reason to change Trinity Harbor from the sleepy little town it's always been.”

“And what do you think?”

“If you'd asked me a month ago, I'd have been on Daddy's side. Now, I think shaking things up around here has a lot of merit.”

“Good for you, Sis,” Bobby said, leaning down to drop a kiss on her forehead as he set their tall glasses of iced tea in front of them.

“You're waiting tables now, too?” she asked.

“I told Steve I'd do it, since I was heading this way anyway. He's got your crab cake sandwiches and Tommy's burger ordered. They should be ready in a minute. I'm trying out a new assistant in the kitchen. You can help me decide if his food passes muster.”

“What did you do with Tommy?” Walker asked. “Throw him off a dock?”

“Nothing that drastic,” Bobby assured him. “I left him over on the first row of slips checking out this speedboat. I've never seen anything that souped up. Must go one-forty. It's top of the line, too. Had to cost a fortune.”

He avoided looking at Walker when he said it, but Walker's antennae shot up, anyway. “Why would anybody around here need a boat that goes that fast? Are there races down here?”

“Not out of Trinity Harbor,” Bobby said. “There are some down in the Chesapeake.”

“Mind if I go with you to take a look?” he asked. He felt Daisy's puzzled gaze on him and forced a grin. “Nothing to worry about. You know how we guys are about speed.”

“I suppose,” she said doubtfully.

Walker followed Bobby over to the slips, admiring some of the yachts that were docked side by side, each more impressive than the one before. Cabin cruisers, fancy fiberglass fishing boats with swimming platforms off the back and built-in bars trimmed in teak. People had obviously invested thousands of dollars in their weekend toys.

There were no dilapidated wooden craft at Bobby's marina.

When they reached the speedboat, he saw at once what Bobby had meant. Long and sleek and designed for speed, this piece of machinery wasn't owned by some casual boater. It belonged to someone who raced. The question was, were they racing in perfectly legal boating competitions, or had it been souped up to outrun the authorities? He had a nagging feeling that Bobby had wanted him to take an interest in it for just that reason.

“Think anybody would mind if I took a look around?” he asked, already hopping down into the boat.

Bobby regarded him with unease. “I don't know, Walker. This guy's new. He might not take kindly to anyone poking around on his boat.”

“He's not a local, then?”

“No.”

“Name?”

“Craig Remington.”

“From?”

“D.C., I think. The boat's registered in Maryland, though.”

Good, Walker thought. Both were things he could check out more thoroughly once he was back home. “Single guy? Family man?” he asked.

“My age,” Bobby said. “Late twenties, I'd say—maybe thirty. I didn't ask if he was married. What's up, Walker? Why so many questions?”

Walker evaded the inquiry and remarked, “Too young to have this much money tied up in a boat, don't you think?”

“Hey, playboys have their cash invested in all sorts of
things. You should see the men who cruise in here on the weekends with their gold chains and their trophy women. I doubt if any of them waste a lot of time trying to catch fish, despite the top-of-the-line equipment they have on board. Maybe this guy made a killing with tech stocks.”

Walker felt Tommy tug on his sleeve and realized the boy had followed him onto the boat.

“How come you care so much about this boat?” he demanded.

“Just curious,” he said, but he doubted Bobby bought the reply. Tommy seemed to accept it at face value, though.

A superficial glance around the boat didn't reveal anything out of the ordinary, and he could tell from Bobby's expression that there was no way he was going to permit a more thorough search. Walker couldn't blame him. It wasn't as if he were here in an official capacity, much less armed with a warrant.

He scooped Tommy up and set him back on the dock, then stepped up after him. They were just in time to hear Daisy call, “Food's here, guys.”

“I'm starved,” Tommy announced, and darted off at once.

Walker hung back. “Look, I don't want to put you in the middle, but keep an eye on this guy, okay? If you get so much as an inkling that he's into anything suspicious, talk to your brother.”

“Drugs, you mean,” Bobby said flatly, his expression dejected.

“Exactly.”

Bobby rubbed a hand across his face. “That's the last thing I need around here. I'd been hoping I was wrong.”

Walker regarded him with surprise. “This was the boat we saw on the river a couple of weeks ago, wasn't it? The one that had you looking as if you'd just sucked on a lemon. You were already worried about it.”

“I was trying not to be,” Bobby said. “In fact, I was hoping the guy would decide this part of the world was just too slow for him and take off. He hasn't given me any reason to throw him out.”

“You can always dream,” Walker said. “In the meantime, the next time the guy shows up, if I'm in the vicinity, give me a call. I'd like to have a chat with him.”

“What if he's legit?”

“Then talking to some guy who's crazy about boats won't bother him a bit, will it?”

“I suppose not,” Bobby agreed with obvious reluctance.

“Hey, cheer up. If this guy is into something heavy, you don't want his business anyway. He'll bring you down with him.”

Bobby sighed. “And send Daddy into orbit. Calling you is definitely the least of all the possible evils.”

“Remember that,” Walker said just as Daisy called out to them to hurry up before their food got cold. “Now let me get to that crab cake. With all this snooping around, I've worked up an appetite.”

When they got to the table, Tommy was chattering a mile a minute about the fancy boat. Daisy's gaze shifted from the boy to Walker.

“Sounds impressive,” she observed, a question mark in her eyes.

“Definitely not your run-of-the-mill pleasure craft,” Walker said.

Daisy's lips clamped together in a disapproving line, but she said nothing more until she was alone with him later at the house. “If you think that boat is used for drug smuggling, you have to tell Tucker. Bobby can't get caught up in something like that, even peripherally. He has too much at stake. He's invested everything in the marina and his real estate deals. If people start thinking he's mixed up in something shady, it will destroy him. Once a person's reputation is tarnished in Trinity Harbor, it pretty much stays tarnished forever.”

“Bobby's reputation is not going to be ruined.”

She studied him with a worried expression. “You would tell me if you thought he was in any danger, wouldn't you?”

“He's not in any danger,” Walker said flatly. At least not right now. “Bobby understands the situation.”

“Does he? He's out of his depth in something like this. He's too trusting. Tucker's the suspicious one.”

“Stop worrying, Daisy. The thought of drugs might not have crossed Bobby's mind before today, but it has now. I made sure of that.”

“I hope you're right,” she said with a sigh.

Truthfully, Walker prayed he was, too. He didn't like the idea that Bobby—and by extension Daisy and Tommy—might get caught up in something ugly. For the first time in years, the protective streak that had made him become a police officer in the first place had been redirected into something very personal.

A
s if Saturday hadn't been stressful enough, Daisy found herself sitting tensely on the edge of a chair in her own living room on Sunday as a surprisingly flustered Frances presided over what she called “a little update get-together.”

Though Walker was lounging in a chair with his usual relaxed posture, Daisy wasn't one bit fooled. She could read his tension in the tiny lines around his mouth, see it in the way his fingers beat a silent rhythm on the arm of the chair.

Only Anna-Louise looked thoroughly calm and composed, as usual. Daisy could have hated her friend for that. Didn't the pastor have any idea what was at stake? Daisy was fairly certain that King was behind this. He'd probably been pressuring Frances ever since their bingo date to get Tommy—and thereby Walker—out of Daisy's house.

Frances addressed Daisy. “Why don't you tell me how things have been going? Tommy's teacher says he's settled down again at school.”

“He has,” Daisy said. “And he's been wonderful here at the house. He does whatever I tell him.” She saw no need to mention the little incident with the flowers the day before. Every kid rebelled about something once in a while. “I think he's adjusting quite nicely.”

Frances nodded, though Daisy thought she looked vaguely dismayed by the report.

“Walker, is that your impression as well?” Frances asked.

“Seems to me the kid's doing just fine,” he said with a hooded glance at Daisy.

“Are you any closer to deciding what you want to do once school is out?”

Daisy's breath caught in her throat as she waited for Walker's answer. She hadn't dared to broach this subject herself, because she was too terrified of what his answer might be. Besides, it was too soon to be making that decision. School wouldn't be out for weeks and weeks. Okay, only three weeks, but that was still plenty of time. There was no need to rush.

“I think a decision like that is premature,” she blurted out before he could say anything.

“I agree,” Walker said, looking relieved. “When is school out? Not till mid-June, right? Why get Tommy all stirred up now?”

“I'm not suggesting we tell Tommy,” Frances said. “I was just trying to get a fix on where your head is. I've already investigated the custody ruling in your divorce case to be sure there's nothing in that that would preclude you from taking custody of Tommy.”

“You
what?
” Walker shouted, halfway out of his chair.

His heated reaction startled Daisy, but Frances merely stared him down.

“It's my job, Detective. The point is, there is nothing in the record that would disqualify you. So, have you considered what arrangements you might have to make? Have you looked into schools in Washington? A babysitter? Anything like that?”

Walker sank back into the chair, a frown creasing his brow. That deer-caught-in-the-headlights look was back.

Daisy jumped in again. “I'm sure Walker will do whatever's necessary when the time comes.” She stared at him pointedly. “
If
it comes.”

“That's right,” he said, his expression glum.

Frances looked rattled. “Walker, this isn't something to be put off. The next time we meet, I expect you to have a plan, unless, of course, you've decided by then that you don't want custody of Tommy at all.”

“I didn't say that, dammit.” He scowled and looked at the others. “Did anyone hear me say that?”

“I certainly didn't,” Anna-Louise said. “Frances, I think we can all agree that Tommy is happy right now, and that's what counts. Let's not anticipate problems or upset the status quo until it's absolutely necessary. I'm sure Walker and Daisy will be able to agree on what's best for Tommy when the time comes, and will work together to make any transition as smooth as possible.” Her penetrating gaze shifted from Daisy to Walker and back again. “Isn't that right?”

“Of course,” Walker said at once.

“Yes,” Daisy muttered with considerably less enthusiasm.

Anna-Louise gave a nod of satisfaction. “Good. Then I suggest we all get out to Cedar Hill before Tommy, King and the other men eat all the fried chicken. You know what voracious appetites they have. Frances, are you coming?”

To Daisy's astonishment, the social worker actually blushed. “King invited me,” she said with an almost apologetic look at Daisy.

“Then I'll see you there,” Daisy said with ingrained politeness. Seeing her father and Frances together was going to take some getting used to. She knew that her father had had women friends over the years, but he hadn't paraded them in front of the family. That meant there was something different about his relationship with Frances. She wasn't sure she wanted to know exactly what that difference was.

“Walker and I will be along in a few minutes,” she added to buy herself some time to gather her composure before she witnessed firsthand whatever was going on between King and the social worker. She had this sick sensation in the pit of her stomach that it was some sort of unholy alliance brought on by her father's desire to get Tommy and Walker out of her life and out of town. If so, she was very much afraid Frances was destined to be hurt.

The minute Anna-Louise and Frances had gone, Walker shot to his feet and began to pace. “What is that woman's problem? Why does every single decision have to be made right this second?”

“It doesn't,” Daisy said, calm now that the others were gone and the status quo was still in place. In fact, she thought delay was a very good thing. It gave her more time to convince Walker that Tommy's best interests would be served by letting him stay right here with her. “She can't bully either one of us. I'm sure she only tried today because my father was putting pressure on her.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Walker said. “Are the two of them some kind of an item?”

“I honestly don't know what to make of it. If they are, it's very recent. They've only had one date that I know of,” Daisy said. “I just hope he isn't using her because he
wants her to do his dirty work and get Tommy out of here.”

“Would he do something that underhanded?”

“In a heartbeat,” Daisy said with regret. “In the world according to King Spencer, the end always justifies the means. He doesn't like anyone questioning his authority, and, lately, I've not only questioned it, I've trampled all over it.”

“Does being at odds with your father bother you?”

“Not as much as it would have a few months ago.” She shrugged. “I guess I'm finally growing up. Since I'm thirty, I'd say it's about time.”

Walker paused in front of her, his gaze intense. “You look plenty grown-up to me,” he said in that low, sexy voice that disconcerted her and made her yearn for all sorts of wicked things.

“Really?”

A grin spread across his face. “Really,” he confirmed. “You have no idea how attractive you are, do you?”

“There's no right way to answer that. If I say no, it'll sound like I'm being coy and fishing for compliments. If I say yes, you'll think I'm conceited.”

Walker laughed. “You are the least conceited woman I've ever met. I don't think you need to worry about that possibility. As for being coy, so what? I'm willing to throw a few compliments your way if it'll keep that color in your cheeks and that sparkle in your eyes.”

“Walker Ames, are you flirting with me?”

“No way,” he denied vehemently. “Flirting can get a man in trouble, especially with an innocent woman.”

“Innocent?” she repeated, appalled. “You don't think I'm a thirty-year-old virgin, do you? Because you'd be wrong. I'm experienced. Well, somewhat, anyway.”

“Actually that particular thought hadn't crossed my mind,” he said, looking thoroughly disconcerted. “And to tell you the truth, I wish to hell you hadn't planted that particular image in my brain.”

“Why not?” she asked, genuinely curious about how she'd managed to so completely fluster a man like Walker, who had certainly lived a far more sophisticated life than she had ever dreamed of.

“Because it makes the fact that I want to take you straight upstairs to bed on a Sunday afternoon when we're expected for dinner seem almost obscene.”

Daisy went absolutely still. “Now? You want me now, this second?”

Walker's gaze met hers and he sighed heavily. “Hell, yes,” he said emphatically, then added just as forcefully, “But I'm not going to do anything about it.” His gaze locked with hers. “And neither are you.”

Maybe not
now,
Daisy thought, then grinned. Then again, who knew what she might decide to do later? Her life was definitely taking some interesting and most unexpected turns lately.

 

Walker was looking forward to some serious crime. He needed to get his head straightened out.

He needed to get Daisy Spencer, with her sweet innocence and sexy eyes, out of it.

Admitting to her that he wanted her on Sunday had been a very big mistake. A
huge
mistake. The kind he never allowed himself to make. He'd realized it the instant he saw that gleam of fascination light up her eyes. He'd spotted trouble brewing right then.

That was why he'd steered the hell away from her at
Cedar Hill and headed for D.C. right after dinner, even though the heavy meal had put him half-asleep. He'd had to stop for coffee three times en route to avoid killing himself on the way home.

He was at the station at the crack of dawn on Monday, doing paperwork and praying for some big case to come his way. Or preferably a break in Keisha's murder. Despite all the pressure from his mother and Walker, Rodney hadn't cracked. Nailing a suspect in the drive-by killing was proving as elusive and frustrating as ever.

Because Daisy was still managing to disrupt his powers of concentration, he was relieved when he saw Andy arrive and head for his office. He grabbed a cup of coffee and followed him in.

“You look like hell,” his boss observed.

“Thanks. You don't look so hot yourself. Bad weekend?”

“Gail decided we needed to paint the house. Every muscle in my body aches, and I got no sleep because of the blasted paint fumes. I'm telling you, next weekend I'm getting out of town.”

His expression brightened. “Maybe I'll bring her down to Trinity Harbor so we can meet this nephew of yours. That'll distract her. I'll give her a charge card and a wad of cash, and I can finally get some rest.”

Walker wasn't at all sure how he felt about having Andy anywhere near Trinity Harbor. The man might be his best friend, but he could be a nag. He considered himself to be Walker's moral compass.

As for Gail, he sure as shooting didn't want her anywhere near Daisy. She'd been after him for years to get married again. He'd finally persuaded her to lay off. One look at Daisy might rekindle her determination.

“You're not saying anything,” Andy noted.

“It's just that things down there are pretty complicated,” he hedged.

“Maybe I could help you uncomplicate them.”

“I doubt it.” He scowled. “And don't look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“As if I were a problem you were just itching to solve.”

“Maybe I'm just itching to avoid painting again. There are four rooms left.”

Walker couldn't restrain a grin. “Feeling a little henpecked, are you?”

“You know Gail when she gets a notion into her head.”

“I do indeed,” Walker said with heartfelt sympathy. “Of course, weren't you the one who mentioned Gail's desire to move to Trinity Harbor? Coming down for the weekend could get her batteries all charged up over that idea again.”

“It's still better than painting,” Andy insisted.

It crossed Walker's mind that he could use Andy's take on that boat at Bobby's marina and the likelihood that it was being used for something illegal. “Okay, come to Trinity Harbor. I'll even spring for dinner.”

“At the marina?” Andy asked eagerly. “Best crabs around.”

“So the chef likes to brag,” Walker agreed. “And the marina suits me just fine.”

Andy nodded happily. “I'll call Gail right now. Maybe it'll keep her from making a trip to the hardware store for more paint.”

“You can always dream,” Walker told him.

Frankly, he wouldn't bet money that Gail wouldn't
have Andy painting every evening this week to get the job done before they left. That was what happened when a man let a woman into his life. It put an end to any peace and quiet.

Daisy's image popped right back into his head. He acknowledged it with a sigh. That was exactly what he meant, no peace and quiet at all.

 

When Tommy didn't show up in her classroom after school on Wednesday to ride home with her, Daisy was more annoyed than alarmed. Boys Tommy's age tended to get distracted. He was probably still over at the elementary school with his friends. Somebody had probably started a ball game, and Tommy had joined in without giving her another thought.

She consoled herself with that idea all the way over to the school. But when she found the school yard empty and the doors to the school locked, she began to panic. Relieved that she'd followed Tucker's advice and bought a cell phone even though she'd considered the idea insane at the time, she found it in the bottom of her purse and called her brother.

“I can't find Tommy,” she told him, even as she pounded on the door of the school in case one of the teachers or the principal was still inside.

“Where are you?” Tucker asked at once.

“At the elementary school. He never showed up to ride home with me, so I came over here. He's not here either, and the school's locked up.”

“I'll be there in five minutes. Keep knocking in case anyone's around.”

Daisy pounded until her knuckles hurt, but no one came
to the door. She was near tears when Tucker arrived in his sheriff's cruiser, lights flashing.