She Can Tell (12 page)

Footsteps sounded in the hall behind Mike. He turned his head. Vince Mitchell was coming down the hall, his trophy wife hanging off his arm. In her sky-high heels, the beautiful young woman on his arm was taller than her wiry, gray-haired husband. Tanya Mitchell had restrained her long platinum blond hair in a conservative bun, but her suit was too tight for her to pull off the suburban wife image. With overly enhanced breasts straining the buttons of her silk blouse, the pearls and pumps getup made her look like Donna Reed’s slutty alter ego. Her heavy makeup contrasted with Rachel’s clean, fresh face.

Vince guided Tanya past. One arm slid around his wife’s body. His hand gave her hip a possessive squeeze, but his beady eyes darted back and forth between Mike and Rachel. Mike realized too late that he was standing closer to her than professional interest would dictate. Hell, his face was only a few inches from her head. Yes, he’d actually sniffed her hair in the hallway of the municipal building—in full view of the town councilman who’d been trying to fire him for the past year.

Suspicion lit Vince’s thin face. His mouth twisted in an evil, satisfied smile. Mike gritted his teeth. He’d known all along his interest in Rachel was going to come back and bite
him on the ass. Now that Vince knew about it, it was only a matter of time.

Rachel felt his withdrawal. Mike’s body was still close enough that she could smell his damned aftershave and feel the heat his body emanated. But his attention was riveted on the blond bimbo’s retreating butt. Yup. Vince’s wife had it all going on. Legs, butt, boobs, all
Sports Illustrated
Swimsuit Issue perfect. Oh well. Rachel couldn’t take it personally.

Mike’s eyes closed as he moved a step away from her. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

“Did what? Got an eyeful of Tayna’s booty?” Rachel patted his forearm. “Give yourself a break. Mightier men have fallen.”

Mike’s brow creased. “No. It’s not that. I can’t believe Vince saw…
that
.” He motioned between them with one hand.

“Is that a problem?”

“Yes.” He paced a few feet away and back. “You’re a key part of an active case. Professional ethics dictate that I cannot be involved with you.”

“Oh.” Disappointment settled over Rachel like freezing drizzle. She pushed it away and lifted her chin. “I wasn’t aware that we were involved.”

Mike pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Your face is getting all red,” Rachel said. “Have you had your blood pressure checked lately?”

“I never did anything like this before I met you.” His voice was clipped, and his jaw muscles moved like he was grinding his teeth. “You’re distracting.”

“Distracting?” Rachel felt her mouth gape.
She
was distracting. Women like Tanya were distracting. Not Rachel.

“You destroy my objectivity.”

“Gee, sorry.”

Mike’s eyes blazed. “Nothing can happen between us.”

“OK by me.” Rachel folded her arms across her chest. “You’re the one who’s having a stroke about it.”

“Stroke?” he choked, eyes bulging.

The door behind her opened, and Sarah walked out, her eyes bright behind the bruises.

“Any problems?” Mike’s tone shifted back to super-polite.

“No,” Sarah answered, then stared at Rachel and frowned. “Is everything all right?”

“Fine.” Rachel forced a smile on the protesting muscles of her face. “All done?”

Sarah nodded. “Yes. It wasn’t too bad. Troy can’t come near me or the girls until the hearing, which will be in ten days. I’ll need a lawyer for that.”

“Already working on it.” Rachel pushed away from the wall and started down the hall. “Let’s talk about it at home.”

“All right.” Sarah followed with a confused glance at Mike.

Rachel tried to resist, but her eyes were pulled to him, damn them. Traitors.

Thankfully, he was looking at Sarah. “If you have any trouble, don’t hesitate to call. Please don’t try to handle things on your own.” He shot Rachel a disapproving frown.

Rachel embraced the dig and glared back. Anger welled, hot, familiar, and definitely preferable to self-pity. She pivoted on her heel. A few long strides later the door opened to the smack of her palm. A damp breeze cooled her face. Holding the door open, she waited for Sarah.

“Thanks for everything, Chief O’Connell.” Sarah’s kitten heels tapped on the tile floor as she hurried to catch up.

“You’re welcome.”

Rachel didn’t look back as he responded. That deep voice was as devastating as his eyes. She let the door swing shut. In the parking lot, Rachel didn’t allow herself to run for the truck. Her sister was still walking stiffly and would have trouble keeping up. Plus, pride wouldn’t let her admit how much his snub had affected her. She slammed the door of the pickup harder than necessary and shoved the key into the ignition.

Sarah eased her body into the passenger seat. “Is there something going on between you and Chief O’Connell?”

“No.”

“You’re sure? Because he looks at you like you’re a juicy rib eye and he’s been eating vegan for a long time.”

Rachel jerked the gearshift into drive. “That was your mother-in-law who had him drooling on the floor. He’s just perpetually pissed off at me.”

“Really? That’s not the impression I had.” Sarah rested her head on the back of the seat. “Well, he’s out of luck there. Tanya isn’t leaving Vince, at least not as long as he’s still buying her everything she wants. She isn’t giving up the cash flow anytime soon. She’s not as dumb as she looks.”

“She couldn’t be and still be able to dress herself.”

“Rachel, that’s mean.” But Sarah laughed as she protested.

“Yeah, well, I’m not as nice as you are.”

Sarah flexed the fingers of her casted arm and winced. “I still think the police chief is interested in you.”

“No way. I’m telling you he was staring at Tanya. Maybe there’s something going on between them. She wouldn’t have to leave Vince, you know. People cheat all the time.”
As she well knew. Her throat clogged with the memory of Blake’s betrayal. No. She wasn’t going to dwell on the past. She’d rejected him, and he’d turned to someone else. End of story.

With a deep, cleansing breath, Rachel turned onto Main Street. She depressed the gas pedal, and the pickup sputtered and then roared ahead. “I drive O’Connell crazy. I drive most people crazy, which is why I like being alone.”

“That’s because you don’t let anyone see the real you.”

Exactly
. She’d briefly let her guard down with Blake, and look how that had turned out.

Rachel stopped at the traffic light. “Enough about Mike already. There is nothing going on between us.”

Sarah’s eyebrows shot up. “Mike? You’re on a first-name basis with the police chief?”

“I’m not talking about that anymore.” Rachel’s cheeks warmed. She glanced at her sister.

Sarah was clearly biting back a grin. “Whatever.”

Time for a change of subject. Though it was nice to see her sister’s long-forgotten sense of humor. “I’ve been thinking about something. What if this vandal guy isn’t out to get me? What if he’s out to get the farm? I never had any trouble until I moved there, and most of his efforts have been aimed at the business.”

She’d been thinking about Mike’s questions. Frankly, she’d be thrilled if the threats weren’t a personal attack.

Sarah frowned. “I don’t know. The place is a disaster. Except for your new barn, nothing else has been renovated since the fifties.”

“I was thinking maybe there was something about the place we don’t know.”

“What, you think there’s an oil field under the meadow?” Sarah started humming the
Beverly Hillbillies
theme.

“Something like that. Though there aren’t many oil rigs in the Poconos.” Rachel laughed, and the tension in her chest loosened. “It was Chief O’Connell’s idea.”

“Don’t you mean Mike?” Sarah teased. Her grin spread across her face. She cupped her bruised cheek. “Don’t make me laugh. It hurts my face.”

Rachel turned down a small side street. “We have some time before Mrs. Holloway brings the girls home from school, and the alarm guy isn’t coming until after lunch. Mind if I make a quick stop at the library?”

Sarah stopped laughing abruptly. “Not as long as you don’t make me go inside.”

In the parking lot, Sarah slid down in the passenger seat and hid her bruised face with one hand. Rachel checked out four books from the local history section at rapid speed. Sarah didn’t sit up again until the truck was in motion.

Ten minutes later, Rachel turned into her driveway. Down by the barn, the Johnson’s Well Service truck was still parked in the same place it had sat when they’d left for the courthouse. But Rachel was staring at the large commercial van that occupied the parking area in front of the house. Ladders were mounted on the roof. A huge man leaned against the vehicle. As they approached, he turned to face them. David Gunner. A small bubble of long-buried anger surfaced. And the past she’d worked so hard to suppress came rushing back, a barrage images that left her as battered and bruised as any of Troy’s blows.

Sarah gawked out the window.

Rachel swallowed the bitter taste a lifetime of jealousy had left in her mouth. None of what happened had been David’s fault. Not directly, anyway.

“What is he doing here?” Rachel eyed the large man with suspicion.

Sarah squinted out the windshield. “I don’t know. He did some work for Vince awhile back, but I haven’t seen him lately.”

“I haven’t seen him since Dad sold him the company.” Right after their mother’s funeral. Of course, Neil Parker hadn’t offered the family business to either of his daughters. No, he’d practically adopted the neighbor’s kid instead.

“Daddy needed to retire,” Sarah said in a sad voice. “He couldn’t function after Mom died.”

“Retire? Is that what you call sitting in a recliner and drinking twenty-four-seven?”

“You can’t hold that against David,” Sarah answered in a sad voice. “He isn’t responsible for Daddy’s actions. Mom dying like she did took a huge toll on him.”

On her daughters too.

“I know.” Rachel took two slow, deliberate breaths. Didn’t help. “Also wasn’t David’s fault that Dad wanted boys, and all he got was us.”

Or that their unstable mother had dragged their father into her emotional wreck long before she got ripping drunk and drove her car into a tree.

Sarah didn’t respond, and Rachel wondered how much a decades-old wound could bleed. Dad’s decision hadn’t been David’s fault, but he hadn’t exactly turned the company down, had he?

Rachel parked alongside Sarah’s minivan, which Mrs. Holloway had helped Rachel retrieve early that morning. David’s van, still emblazoned with the Parker Construction logo, sat a few yards away. He hadn’t even changed the name of the company. One more indication of how David had insinuated himself into their family. She shoved open her door and hopped out of the cab, then reached into the truck for the hefty pile of library books. Old hinges squealed as she used a hip to shut the truck door.

“David.” She stretched her face into a smile. The skin of her cheeks felt tight enough to crack, and the armload of books was a convenient excuse to not shake his outstretched hand. “I haven’t seen you for years.”

David shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “I know. I heard you two were having trouble.” In his early forties, his body had thickened with age but he hadn’t gone to fat. His towering frame was packed solid. Close-cropped brown hair showed just a few strands of gray.

Sarah walked past Rachel and stood on her toes to give David a one-armed hug. “It’s good to see you.”

Rachel suppressed a scowl. Sarah was the better person. No question.

David’s weathered face flushed, and he stiffened. One beefy arm lifted as if he didn’t know what to do with it. A few seconds passed before he awkwardly lowered it to return her embrace. “Thanks, Sarah.”

Sarah stepped back. “Why don’t we go inside?”

Sure, let’s extend this awkward-fest
. Ugh. Did Sarah have to be
that
nice?

David dug the toe of his work boot into the mud, echoing Rachel’s discomfort. Guilt wormed into her. She was always thinking she should be more pleasant, more like Sarah. Here was a chance to practice. “Come on in. I’ll make coffee.”