Sherryl Woods - Along Came Trouble

Daisy described her early morning mercy mission to Tucker’s place. “I wasn’t going to tell you. In fact, I promised Tucker I wouldn’t say a word to anyone, but things have changed now.”

“Did you actually see her?” King demanded.

“No, but she was there. Her car was out front, and Tucker didn’t deny it when I accused him of letting her back into his life. He just hustled me right back out the door and told me to mind my own business.” She practically shook with indignation. “As if this isn’t my business, when a member of my own family is about to get his reputation dragged through the mud.”

Daisy was so furious and talking so fast, King was having a hard time keeping up with her. He seized on the first thing that had stuck in his mind. “Why the devil would a woman like that want your clothes?” He looked over the jeans and T-shirt Daisy was wearing. Straight from the discount store, no doubt about it. “I hate to say it, but you two never have shopped in the same boutiques. No offense.”

Daisy glared at him but didn’t debate the point. “If I had to guess, I’d say it’s because she’d arrived there covered in her husband’s blood,” she said furiously. “Wouldn’t that be just like her?”

“Good Lord,” King whispered, seeing all his hopes and dreams for Tucker’s future going up in smoke. Who’d marry a man who’d been consorting with a murderess? His future as sheriff would be reduced to ashes, as well.

He glanced over at Daisy. “Get out.”

“I’m going with you.”

“No, you’re not. I’ll handle this,” he said grimly. “You go home and see what information you can pry out of that husband of yours. He’s bound to know all the particulars. I’ll check with you later, after I’ve tracked down Tucker and given him a piece of my mind.”

“Don’t blame him. The woman’s a witch.”

King almost grinned at that. “Don’t go saying that to your brother.”

“Why not? It’s the truth. Look how she betrayed him—betrayed all of us, for that matter—years ago. Tucker needs to be reminded of that.”

“I imagine he hasn’t forgotten, any more than you have. But if you start name-calling, he’ll just rush to her defense and this whole thing will get even more complicated than it already is.”

She started to argue, then sighed. “You’re probably right. I’ll temper my remarks.” She regarded him worriedly. “Think you can do the same?”

“Not bloody likely.” He fingered the jewelry box in his pocket and wondered if he’d ever get the chance to give it to Frances. He was supposed to be picking her up in less than an hour, and the odds of him getting Tucker’s life straightened out in that amount of time were slim to none.

Well, Frances would just have to understand…again. He sighed heavily. Not bloody likely.

Trying to stay in the background and out of the way of the forensics team was giving Tucker hives. He wasn’t used to sitting on the sidelines in his own blasted jurisdiction. He wanted to get into the library where Chandler had been shot. He knew Walker would eventually fill him in, let him look over all the reports, but that wasn’t the same as being on the crime scene.

Despite his frustration, though, the instant Walker escorted Mary Elizabeth out of the house, all of Tucker’s attention was riveted on her. Her chin was held high. Her shoulders were squared proudly. But her eyes were dull, her complexion pale. He’d never once in the more than twenty years he’d known her seen her look so thoroughly dispirited.

As they neared, she met his gaze, locking on his face as if it were the first friendly beacon she’d seen.

“You okay?” Tucker asked, pushing aside his anger at that sneaky press conference she and Powell had called.

She nodded, but her eyes welled with tears. She blinked frantically to try to keep them from spilling down her cheeks, but one escaped. Instinctively, Tucker gently rubbed it away with the pad of his thumb, then jerked away when he realized that Walker’s steady gaze was fixed on him.

“Since she can’t stay here for the time being, Mrs. Chandler and I have been discussing where I’ll be able to find her if I need to talk to her again,” Walker said.

“You can reach her through me,” Tucker said at once.

“No,” Mary Elizabeth protested, even as Walker scowled disapprovingly. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t ask,” Tucker pointed out. “I offered.”

“Can I speak to you privately?” Walker asked in a tone that suggested it wasn’t a request. He stepped a few feet away, assuming Tucker would follow. When Tucker joined him, he said, “Have you lost your mind?”

“She needs a place to stay,” Tucker said with a defensive shrug. “Think of it as protective custody.”

“It is a really, really bad idea,” Walker countered. “For reasons so numerous I can’t even begin to count them. Given your past history, you invite that woman into your home and I have to place you on the list of suspects right alongside her.”

“Do what you have to do,” Tucker said, refusing to back down, no matter how black a picture Walker painted.

“Dammit, Tucker, do you want Daisy to kill me?”

“You’ll probably have to get in line. I imagine she’ll be coming after me first,” Tucker said wryly. “This won’t sit well with a lot of people.”

“Then shouldn’t that be a clue it’s a mistake?”

“I can’t let Mary Elizabeth go through this alone.”

“I’m sure a woman in her position has friends,” Walker said.

“Maybe so, but I’m the one she turned to.”

“And precisely when was that? Last night, correct? Why exactly did it take so long for you to contact me?” Walker inquired. “What were the two of you doing all that time, getting reacquainted?”

Tucker barely resisted the urge to slug his brother-in-law. He knew what Walker was trying to do. He was trying to show him just how ugly this could get. Tucker refused to take the bait. He understood the risks. He met Walker’s gaze.

“Actually, she was sleeping,” Tucker said mildly. “I was in my kitchen pondering the funny twists and turns life takes.”

“Was that before or after she told you about her husband?”

“Before,” Tucker said, just as he’d explained it earlier. “As soon as she told me, I called you.”

“Were you anywhere near Swan Ridge last night?” Walker pressed.

“I patrolled the whole county,” Tucker told him. “Check my logbook and the mileage on the cruiser.”

“Didn’t take any breaks?”

“Not a one,” he said. “Ask the dispatcher. Michele worked a double shift, too. She and I were having a rather lively discussion about the best place to get steamed crabs. I think Bobby’s are the finest around. She’s partial to a place across the river in Maryland.”

Walker sighed, his exasperation plain. “This is just the tip of the iceberg, you know. The questions are going to start coming at you fast and furious, and I won’t be the only one asking them.”

“I know that,” Tucker said.

“You’re a smart man. I have to assume you’ve weighed the risks.”

“Whether I have or not isn’t your concern,” Tucker told him. “But I appreciate the fact that you care. If things change after Mary Elizabeth and I have talked, I’ll let you know.”

“You think she’ll object to staying with you?” Walker asked.

“Oh, I imagine she’ll have a whole lot more to say than you did.” He nodded in her direction. “Take a look.”

Mary Elizabeth was tapping her foot and glowering at them.

“What’s that about?” Walker asked.

“I’m pretty sure she doesn’t like the fact that I made this decision without consulting her. I’m almost certain she’s going to tell me to take my offer and shove it.”