Trinity Harbor 3 - Along Came Trouble (37 page)

“What the devil is there to think about?” he’d snapped, then retracted the question at once. He had to keep his eye on the prize and not get al caught up with having his pride hurt. “I’m sorry, Frances. You take al the time you want.”

She’d regarded him with approval then, and suggested that perhaps in the meantime, he’d like to come home with her.

“Wel , of course I’l take you home. I brought you, didn’t I?”

To his astonishment, a little smile had tugged at her lips.

“I’m not sure you’re grasping my meaning,” she’d told him.

King was stil reeling over that one, and over the fact that he’d turned her down. He thought it had been damned noble of him, tel ing her that she deserved more than a casual fling, especial y since at one time he’d suggested the precise same thing himself. Since she stil hadn’t told him she wanted more than that, he was beginning to wonder if he’d gotten it al wrong yet again. Damn, but women were confusing!

At least Tucker and Mary Elizabeth seemed to be on the right track. And the talk around town about the two of them was dying down. King didn’t have many worries left where they were concerned. He expected to have al of his children happily settled down before the year was out. Maybe this grandbaby project of his could final y get underway.

“What’s on your mind, old man?” Pete Dexter inquired, sliding into the booth opposite him at Earlene’s. “You look as if al those wheels in your head are spinning a hundred miles an hour.”

“Just thinking about how life throws you a curve when you’re least expecting it,” King said, thinking of Frances again.

“Has that boy of yours gone and done something foolish?” Pete asked.

“If you’re referring to Tucker, he doesn’t do foolish things,” King said crankily.

“That’s not what you were saying when Liz Chandler first got back to town and dragged him into that mess,” Pete reminded him.

“You al talking about the murder again?” Frank Davis asked as he joined them. “I hear they’re about to make an arrest this morning. There was a fire over at Swan Ridge last night, and they’re pretty sure they know who did that and how it’s connected to the murder.”

Alarmed by the announcement, King promptly pushed past his friend. “I’ve got to go.”

“Where?” the two men demanded. “The fire’s out.”

“Not the one I’m concerned about,” King said, knowing that Tucker and Mary Elizabeth were going to be caught up in whatever the heck was going on. No matter how things were shaping up, they were going to need people to stand by ’em, and he intended to be first in line.

“I thought you were meeting Frances here,” Pete said.

“Did I say that?” King demanded irritably.

“No, but isn’t that the way it’s been lately?” Pete asked. “We haven’t finished a conversation in weeks before you go slinking off to sit with her.”

“Then today wil be no different,” King retorted, then hesitated. It was true he had been meeting Frances here most mornings. It wasn’t like they had plans. It had just worked out that way. She might wonder where he’d gone off to. “If Frances comes in, tel her I’ve gone to Swan Ridge. Explain it’s an emergency.”

Pete and Frank shook their heads.

“When are you going to marry that woman and get it over with?” Frank asked. “Then you could have these conversations over your own breakfast table and leave us out of it.”

King scowled. “Wil you tel her or not?”

“Go,” Pete said, waving him off impatiently. “We’l make sure Frances knows you’re off meddling again.”

King started to take exception to that, but he didn’t have time to waste. If the Chandler murder case was about to come together, he wanted to be there to make absolutely certain that Mary Elizabeth wasn’t the one behind bars. He was as convinced of her innocence as Tucker was, but he and his son had been wrong about her a time or two. He just prayed this wasn’t another one of those times.

He was hurrying out the door when he ran into Frances. He gave her a thorough kiss that had her staring hard at him, then said, “I’m in a hurry.

Pete wil explain.”

“If you’re going to Swan Ridge,” she said at once, “then I’m coming with you.”

“You already know about the fire?”

“Anna-Louise cal ed me a half hour ago—Richard heard about it on the police scanner. Actual y, I was coming to tel you. We can take my car. It’s closer.”

King chafed at getting in a car with Frances behind the wheel. She tended to drive her sporty little convertible like a reckless teenager. It was a wonder she hadn’t wrapped it around a tree before now. Unfortunately, it was right in front of Earlene’s, il egal y parked and running. His car was half a block away, since he tried not to park in a fire lane, the way Frances currently was.

“By al means,” he said, climbing into the passenger seat and pul ing his sunglasses from his pocket. Maybe if he closed his eyes, he wouldn’t notice how fast she was taking the curves on the narrow, winding road to Swan Ridge.

Frances climbed behind the wheel, put the car into gear and peeled out of her il egal parking spot. When she hit the outskirts of town, she glanced at him.

“You can open your eyes now,” she said with barely concealed amusement.

“They’re not closed,” he lied.

“If a man fibs about the little things, he’l fib about the big ones,” she said.

His gaze snapped open then, and he ripped off his sunglasses to prove it. “I have never lied to you, Frances. Never.”

She regarded him with satisfaction, then nodded slowly. “In that case, the answer’s yes.”

“Yes?” he repeated. “What the devil was the question? Stop talking in riddles, woman.”

She slammed on the brakes, turned and stared straight into his eyes. “Yes, I wil marry you, King Spencer.”

Mouth gaping, he stared at her. When her words final y sank in, he let out a whoop. “If I weren’t in such a blasted hurry, I’d haul you over here and kiss you til your head started spinning,” he declared.

She laughed, the happiest sound he’d heard in ages.

“I do love you, you know,” she told him.

“And I you,” he said, regarding her seriously.

“So,” she said, “where’s my ring?”

“Same place it’s been for the past couple of weeks,” he said. “In my pocket.”

“Wel ?”

“You want me to pul it out while we’re half-parked in the middle of the highway?” he asked incredulously.

She pretended to consider the question thoughtful y, then nodded. “Yes, I think I do.”

King reached for the ring even as he glanced over his shoulder and saw that cars were slowing to a stop on the road behind them. Let ’em wait, he thought as he plucked the velvet box from his pocket and removed the diamond inside. It caught the morning sun and sparkled bril iantly. Frances gasped.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “I never expected anything so extravagant.”

“I wanted something that suited you,” he said softly. “And this captures the sparkle in your eyes.”

Her eyes wel ed with tears. “King Spencer, sometimes you say the most romantic things.”

She held out her hand and he slipped the ring on her finger, just as the horns behind them began to honk impatiently. People in these parts were used to slowing down behind farm equipment, but not to coming to a complete stop for no reason at al . He stood up and shouted at the closest driver.

“Pipe down. Can’t you see I’m getting engaged?”

To his chagrin, it was Richard who poked his head out of the car, a grin splitting his face. He snapped a picture of the scene before King realized what he was about to do.

“Now that is front-page news!” Richard shouted back, giving him a thumbs-up.

King glanced at Frances and saw that her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. “Nothing to worry about, darling woman. I have a feeling when push comes to shove, the fire at Swan Ridge and the arrest of Chandler’s murderer are going to be bigger news than the two of us deciding to get hitched.”

“Maybe so,” she said, laughing suddenly. “But this traffic jam we’re causing may just rate a headline below the fold. We’d better go.”

“Not until I’ve kissed you to seal the deal,” he said, tucking a finger under her chin and pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. “I’l do it right a little later.”

He peered back at Richard. “Did you get that shot, too?” he hol ered.

The
Trinity Harbor Weekly
editor leaned out and grinned. “What do you think? I keep tel ing you I’m a damned fine journalist.”

“Not if you’re more interested in snapping pictures of me and Frances than you are in getting out to Swan Ridge where the action is,” King said, just as Frances sedately put the car into drive and then shot down the highway, going ful throttle and leaving Richard in her dust.

King laughed. Damned if this wasn’t turning into the best morning of his life.

Tucker was getting tired of the sordid mess that was Larry Chandler’s life. If their assumption was right and he had been mixed up with Arlene Wil is, it was just one more example of Chandler’s poor judgment and his humiliating treatment of his wife.

Over the weeks, as more and more things had come to light, Tucker was increasingly astounded that Mary Elizabeth had stuck with Chandler as long as she had.

As they waited at Swan Ridge for word on whether the police had brought in Wil is or his wife, Tucker also considered something else for the first time. Given everything that Chandler had been up to in his personal and his professional life—the affairs, the shady business dealings—Mary Elizabeth had to have known that she would never be the only suspect in the case, not the way she’d implied the night she’d come to him for help.

Al of which begged the question, why had she come to him, especial y given their past history? Was it at al possible that she’d wanted something more than his help? It was something he needed to get into with her later. For now, he was just keeping a watchful eye on her as she roamed through the downstairs rooms at Swan Ridge, her expression increasingly sad.

Eventual y she came to him, looking unbearably lost and alone. At least that’s what he thought until he saw the glint of resolve in her eyes.

“I’ve come to a decision,” she told him, her voice wavering. “Once this is over, I’m going to get rid of Swan Ridge. It’s not real y a home. It’s a mausoleum.”

Tucker’s heart seemed to stop beating. “And do what?” he asked.

Her gaze met his. “That depends on a lot of things.”

“Such as?”

She shook her head. “Now’s not the time to talk about it.” Suddenly her expression faltered. “Oh, my gosh, I was supposed to meet Daisy this morning to look at property for the youth center and to get our committee started. How could I have forgotten that?”

“Sweetheart, I’m sure she knows al about the fire. Walker came from home.”

“I suppose, but I should cal her. I don’t want her to think I’m standing her up, not when we’re just beginning to make progress with our friendship.”

“Want me to cal her?” Tucker offered, just as he glanced up and spotted a parade of people coming around the corner of the house. His father and Frances were in front, hand in hand, he noted. They were fol owed by Richard, and then by Daisy. He reached for Mary Elizabeth’s shoulders and turned her. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

His sister’s steps faltered when she saw Mary Elizabeth, but then her chin shot up, much as Mary Elizabeth’s had earlier. She marched across the patio, reached up and touched Mary Elizabeth’s cheek. “You okay? I would have come sooner, but I had to get Tommy up and take him over to Jenna’s.

Bobby’s taking him and Darcy fishing this morning.”

“I’m okay,” Mary Elizabeth said, then added, “better now that you’re here. I was just about to cal you to apologize for forgetting about our plans to get started on the youth center project today.”

“We can do that anytime,” Daisy said. She nodded toward the house. “How bad is it?”

“Not as horrible as it could have been,” Mary Elizabeth said. “I’l take you on the grand tour, though they don’t want me in my grandfather’s library.

It’s a crime scene, and they’re not sure about structural damage.”

“Whatever’s damaged can be fixed,” Daisy said, looping an arm around Mary Elizabeth’s shoulders as they went off to survey the damage again.

“I’l come, too,” Frances said, giving Mary Elizabeth’s hand a squeeze.

As the three of them walked inside, Tucker thought about the irony of the situation. In the midst of losing a part of her past, Mary Elizabeth had final y found the friendships she’d been craving.

Tucker turned away and spotted his father watching the women as they left.

“So, Daddy, how are things with you and Frances?” he inquired. “Something seemed different just now.”

“She accepted my proposal,” King said, looking a little dazed. “Did it right out on the highway about ten minutes ago. She caused a traffic jam for at least a mile, since she came to a stop in the middle of the road to say yes.”

Tucker laughed at the image. “Somehow that seems suitable.”

“Doesn’t it, though?” King agreed. “My life’s certainly not going to be dul , that’s for sure.”

“I truly am happy for you,” Tucker told him with heartfelt sincerity.

“Thank you, son. You think your brother and sister wil feel the same way?”

“I know they wil . Bobby wil just be disappointed that he wasn’t first on the scene. He kept thinking it was going to happen at the marina—even started a pool on it.”

“He didn’t?” King said, clearly scandalized at the thought. Then he chuckled. “Serves him right that he’l be the last to know.” He shot a warning look at Tucker. “And don’t you be the one to tel him, either. Let’s wait and let him find out from the front page of the paper.”

Tucker regarded him with confusion. “You’re expecting coverage?”

King grinned. “Richard was in the car right behind us out on the highway. Unless Walker gives him a bigger scoop, he claims the engagement wil be front-page news this week.” His gaze narrowed. “So, son, what do you think? Am I going to get bumped off the front page?”

“If that’s your way of asking if there’s been a break in the case, I can’t say. You’l have to ask Walker.”