Beth Andrews - Unraveling the Past

She didn’t do weak. She had too many people depending on her. Counting on her to take care of them.

Sure, sometimes she wondered what it would be like to worry only about herself. To put her own needs first without thought or care for anyone else. To be manipulative and selfish and egocentric.

Like her mother.

But she was so much stronger than Valerie Sullivan had ever been. So much better.

And if she kept telling herself that, if she pretended that this morning had never happened, that she’d never seen that necklace, maybe she’d actually start believing it.

For the first time in her life, she had no idea what was real and what was fiction. What if her suspicions were right? What if the past eighteen years were nothing but a lie? Worse, what if she was to blame?

She pressed her lips together and yanked open the door so she could step into the dimly lit, cool hallway. No. It wasn’t her fault. None of it was. The blame lay with one and only one person—Valerie. All Layne had ever done was keep her family from falling apart.

She’d keep doing it. No matter what.

Before turning the corner that would take her to the squad room, Layne stopped long enough to crack the knuckles of each finger then shook her hands out. Her expression composed so none of her doubts, her guilt, showed, she entered the room and went straight to the desk she’d kept despite her promotion a year ago.

Across from her, Jimmy Meade glanced up from where he pecked at the keyboard of his computer. He frowned. “I thought you were going home to get cleaned up.”

“I got sidetracked,” she said, hooking her foot around her chair leg and pulling it out. As she sat, she felt him watching her. “What?”

He leaned back in his chair, linked his hands together on his protruding stomach—now half the size it had been thanks to his wife insisting he cut back on the sweets in case the new chief decided to fire anyone who could no longer fit into their uniform. “You have something on your mind?”

Her throat clogged. Jimmy had always been on her side, from the moment she’d first been hired. One of her uncle Kenny’s old school buddies, he’d kept an eye out for her, mentored her. And she was about to look him in the eye and lie.

God, she hated this.

“Nope.” She booted up her computer, watched the monitor as if her next breath depended on her wallpaper—a picture of her nephew Brandon in his baseball uniform—loading properly. “Any new developments in the case?”

“Haven’t heard of anything.” He straightened and reached for his favorite coffee cup. “Chief’s been in a meeting with the mayor for almost an hour now.”

Whatever happened in town, Mayor Seagren wanted to be involved.

“It must be my birthday,” Evan breathed as he came in from the break room—obviously the chief had him working overtime, too. “Because I’m about to get a present.” He nodded toward the double glass doors that overlooked the foyer.

The foyer where Layne’s sister Tori laughed at something Officer Wilber—currently manning the booth—said, her head back. All the better to show off her long, graceful neck.

“Oh, I am not in the mood for this,” Layne muttered as Tori sort of…slinked…toward the squad room, a plastic take-out box in her hand. Then again, her black skirt was so tight—and short—normal walking was probably out of the question. And how she waited tables all day in those strappy, high-heeled sandals, Layne had no idea.

Thankfully Tori’s bad attitude and questionable fashion sense weren’t Layne’s problems anymore.

Just a few of the many crosses she had to bear.

“For God’s sake, have some pride,” Layne told Evan. The kid was practically drooling. “And you—” She turned to Jimmy. “You’re a happily married man. And a grandfather.”

He didn’t even have the grace to look abashed that he’d been caught gawking. “Carrie and I have an agreement. I can look all I want. And she pretends I have a chance in hell of letting some beautiful young woman steal me away from her.”

Evan scrambled off his desk and practically tripped over his own feet to open the door. “Morning, Tori,” he said, sounding like a chipmunk going through puberty.

“Good morning,” Tori said, all bright and shiny as a new penny. “Hey, was that you I saw out on Old Boat Road a few days ago?” she asked Evan. “I didn’t know you had a bike.”

“It’s not a bike,” Jimmy and Layne said together, repeating what Evan had told them repeatedly. “It’s a Harley.”

“And his mom bought it for him,” Jimmy added.

Evan flushed. “She loaned me the down payment. That’s all.”

“A Harley?” Tori asked, seemingly impressed. Though with her, you never knew what was truth and what was for show. She shook back her dark, chin-length hair and winked at him. “Moving up to the big leagues, huh? Who knows what you’ll be ready to tackle next.”

“Okay,” Layne said, pushing her chair back and standing, “I just threw up in my mouth a little, so if you don’t mind could you please play Cougar and Innocent Cub somewhere else? We’re trying to work here.”

“That’s why I’m here. I heard you pulled an all-nighter out at the quarry.” She raised the take-out container. “Thought you all could use some sugar to help get you through the rest of the morning.”

Layne picked up a pencil from her desk. Squeezed it. “You heard about that?”

“About the body?” Tori set the box on Layne’s desk and flipped up the top exposing neatly packaged blueberry scones and cinnamon rolls. “Sure. It’s all everyone’s been able to talk about.”

Tori worked as a waitress at the Ludlow Street Café, Mystic Point’s most popular restaurant.

Layne scraped at the paint on the pencil with her thumbnail. “Really?” she asked, keeping her voice neutral. “I figured it’d take at least until lunchtime for word to get around.”

Tori stepped aside while Jimmy helped himself to both a scone and cinnamon roll. “In this town? Please. People are already taking bets about who it is.”

Jimmy harrumphed but Layne’s blood ran cold.

“Who…who do they think it is?” she couldn’t help asking.

Jimmy shot her a questioning look but she ignored it, watching her sister’s face, so similar to her own, carefully. If Tori suspected, Layne couldn’t tell. Then again, her sister had always been excellent at hiding her true feelings.

“Most people think it’s that hiker that went missing a few years back,” Tori said, picking up Layne’s nameplate then setting it back down. “A couple people insist it’s the gangbanger who escaped prison back in ’08. Me, I have ten bucks on the hiker theory.”

“It wasn’t a hiker,” Evan said around a mouthful of scone. He swallowed. “The body was found—”

“I hadn’t realized we were at liberty to discuss an ongoing investigation,” Layne snapped.

Evan looking at her as if she’d slashed the tires of his new Harley only made her feel crappier. Perfect. She sighed. “What do you want?” she asked Tori.

Her sister laid a hand over her heart. “Can’t a grateful citizen bring a few treats to Mystic Point’s finest without being accused of wanting something in return?”

“A grateful citizen can, sure. But you? No.”

“That hurts.” She hitched a hip onto Layne’s desk, causing her skirt to rise up, showing several more inches of her toned, tanned thigh.

“Get your ass off my desk before I’m forced to arrest you for indecent exposure,” Layne said. “And if that’s what you wear to work, Celeste needs to seriously consider instituting a dress code at the café. It is a family restaurant after all.”

Tori slowly slid to her feet, her grin razor-sharp. “Funny, but no one else complains about my clothing.” She looked down at Layne—only because those stupid shoes of hers added several inches to her height—and sneered. “At least mine are clean.”