Текст книги "Heir to scandal"

Автор книги: Andrea Laurence

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 13 страниц)

Seven

The light was just beginning to shine dimly through the windows when Xander spoke. “I should go.”

Rose groaned in protest and rolled onto her side to look at him. Her hair was tousled and sexy, her dark eyes still slightly glazed with sleep. “You don’t have to.”

Xander placed a kiss on the end of her nose and swung his legs out of bed. “I know, but I was thinking I needed to be gone before Joey woke up.”

Before he could press his feet against the carpeting, the rumble of voices sounded from the living room.

“Too late,” Rose said. She lay back against the mattress, stretching long like a cat and yawning loudly. “Joey is an early riser. Thank goodness he’s finally old enough to make himself cereal and watch television until I wake up.”

“Now what?” Xander asked.

Rose sat up and tucked the sheets under her arms. “We get up, get dressed and have breakfast, I suppose. If we don’t act like it’s a big deal, he won’t think it’s a big deal.”

“Is he, uh, used to you having men stay overnight?”

Rose’s mouth fell open in shock. “No,” she said, her tone sharp. “I’ve never had a man over before.”

“I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings,” Xander said, reaching his arm across the bed to grip her foot through the blanket. “I don’t know how much you’ve dated while we’ve been apart or how serious it was. I have no room to talk because I assure you it isn’t as many people as I’ve dated.”

She frowned and slipped out of the bed. “Glad to know you haven’t been pining away for me all these years.” Rose pulled on a robe and disappeared into the bathroom.

Xander just shook his head. He always knew just what to say, unless he was around Rose. Then, somehow, his filter short-circuited and he ended up saying things that ranged from rude to tacky to downright insulting. He started pulling on his clothes instead and was dressed when Rose came out of the bathroom.

“I’m going to make some coffee,” she said.

They went out together, following the sound of cartoon chaos as they neared the living room.

“Morning, baby,” Rose greeted their son.

Joey turned away from the television to glance at them, and then he smiled when he noticed Xander was there. “Morning. Hi, Xander! You want one of my Pop-Tarts? They’re s’mores flavored.”

“Hey, kiddo,” Xander said. “I’ll pass on the breakfast, but thanks for the offer. You save those for you.”

Joey shrugged and returned to watching the cartoons on the television.

“That was quite the offer,” Rose noted quietly. “Are you sure you want to turn it down? Joey won’t share his Pop-Tarts with just anyone. Not even Craig. You must be special.”

“I’m honored. I’m just not interested in chocolate-and-marshmallow sludge this early in the morning.”

“How about coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

Rose poured two mugs of hot coffee and passed one over to him. “Joey,” she said, “could you turn it over to the news? I want to see what time the parade is supposed to start.”

Joey pouted for a moment and then flipped the channel from cartoons to news. The local guy was talking about the weather, and then the woman gave an update on the festival and parade route. It looked as if it would begin at eleven.

“I know they’re announcing the bake-off winners at ten,” Xander added, “so we should get down there earlier. I have to go by the farm and change first. I probably need to be there by nine-thirty since I’m helping hand out the awards.”

“We’ll meet you at the winners’ ceremony,” Rose said.

Xander had turned away from the television once he had the information he needed about the parade, but the woman’s voice caught his attention again.

“...sketch to help the local authorities identify the body found at the Bridgeton Properties site last December.”

His face jerked back toward the TV in time for the long-awaited sketch to flash up on the screen. Xander’s stomach sank, the coffee turning bitter on his tongue. It had finally happened. The artist’s re-creation was looking back at him. All hell was about to break loose.

The woman on the news continued to talk while it was displayed. “The coroner’s office reported last year that the victim was a young Caucasian male, approximately age sixteen to twenty-four. Cause of death was believed to be blunt-force trauma to the head. If you have any information about this crime or recognize the person in the sketch, please call the local sheriff’s office.” A number flashed onto the screen.

“That’s just awful,” Rose said.

Yeah, that was about what he was thinking. Once the Strawberry Days stuff wrapped up today, he needed to get back to the farm to start running interference.

“You never expect something like that to happen where you live,” he commented, and it was true. You certainly never expected it to happen to you, either.

“I don’t recognize the sketch. Do you?”

“Nope,” he said without turning to look again. And honestly, it didn’t look that much like Tommy. If he hadn’t known for a fact that the dead guy was his former bunkhouse-mate, he wouldn’t have connected the dots himself.

“Does it freak you out to know that someone died on your parents’ property while you were there?”

Xander shrugged. “Not really. The farm is huge. Any number of things could’ve happened out there and no one would know it. Besides, it might’ve happened before Heath and I came there. The timeline window they’ve given is pretty broad.”

“That would creep me out. It’s bad enough knowing that there’s a murderer running around Cornwall somewhere,” she said quietly so Joey wouldn’t hear. “What if it’s someone I know? Someone I trust?” Rose shivered into her robe, pulling the plush fabric tighter around her.

He had been right, he thought drily. Rose would not understand. There would be no explaining it to her, only rationalizing away her argument. “It was a long time ago. Anyone could’ve stumbled onto the property and no one would know it. Two guys hiking through the area might’ve gotten into an argument in the woods and one could’ve offed the other. It could be two people we’ve never met in our life,” he added.

“I suppose,” Rose agreed. “Are you hungry?”

“A little. I’d be happy to eat anything without strawberries,” he said. There would be plenty of strawberry foods today at the parade. He didn’t need more here.

Rose nodded and turned away to the refrigerator. As she opened the door, Xander noticed a flyer that read Scout Camp in big letters at the top.

“Is Joey going to scout camp?” he asked. He’d gone at Joey’s age and had loved it. He’d learned how to shoot a bow and arrow, tie a million knots, ride a horse and make art out of macaroni.

Rose raised her finger to her lips to quiet him. They both glanced over at Joey, but he had switched back to cartoons and was paying them no attention. “No. He wanted to go, but I couldn’t afford it.”

“When is it?”

“It starts on Monday. With his arm, even if I could afford it, they probably wouldn’t take him.”

Xander could specifically recall seeing a boy with a broken arm when he went to camp. If Troy Williams was still the local scoutmaster, maybe Joey could go. Troy had contributed heavily to Xander’s campaign. He could give him a call. Joey would have a good time. And given that the sketch just went public, it might be the best solution. Xander wouldn’t be torn between spending time with his son and fielding the press. “They might. We should ask. It might make up for missing out on baseball.”

Rose frowned. “Xander, I told you that I can’t af—”

“And I told you I was going to help,” he interrupted. “And he wants to go. If I can get the scoutmaster to agree to let him go, will you let me take care of it?”

Her lips twisted with thought but she didn’t answer.

“Seven full days,” Xander added, “without a child underfoot. We could each do what we needed to during the day, then I could come over here after work. Imagine how much trouble we could get into. Imagine how loud you could be,” he said with emphasis.

Rose’s dark eyes met his, the bright flame of desire burning in their depths again. He hated that it would be an eternity before he could touch her again. It would be a welcome distraction with everything that was about to happen. She didn’t respond, but she didn’t need to.

“I’ll call Troy on my way home and see what he has to say. If we can’t, we can’t. But if Joey can go, I want to take care of it.”

* * *

Rose kept her distance from Xander at the bake-off celebration. The dishes were anonymous, but if she seemed too friendly with Xander, she had no doubt someone would call foul. She’d never won any of the categories before, so she’d hate to sully it, and Daisy’s reputation, by getting embroiled in a small-town baking scandal.

Despite that, she could just picture the look on Lois Walters’s face if she did win. Scandal or no, it would be worth it.

She currently sat in the back row with a very bored Joey. He was more interested in the parade and food vendors outside since she’d forced him to leave his handheld game system at home. Fortunately, it was going pretty quickly. Edith Andrews took best-dessert open for her strawberry pretzel salad. A beaming Molly Eden defeated her competitors in the jams-and-preserves category for her spicy strawberry-jalapeño jelly. Then Lois Walters won first place for her strawberry pie, surprise, surprise. Rose had to admit it was a very good pie, but she was over the smug, pudgy woman’s face gloating about it all the time.

Last was cakes, Rose’s category. She had gotten second and third place before, but when her name wasn’t called for either, she felt the twinge of disappointment. Sleeping with a judge hadn’t helped at all, she thought with a wry grin just touching her lips and lifting her spirits.

“First place goes to the strawberry cloud cake by Rose Pierce.”

At first she didn’t react. Had she heard that right? Then Joey nudged her and she leaped up from her seat. The crowd applauded as she made her way up to the stage and was presented with a ribbon by the contest coordinator, Mrs. Shipley.

“Please stay on stage, dear. We’re bringing up all the winners for the best-in-show presentation.”

Rose nodded and stepped to the side. On the table behind them was a trophy for best strawberry dish of the year. She heard Lois had to have a cabinet built for all her trophies, so she didn’t hold her breath. Lois, Edith and Molly joined her on stage for the announcement.

“And the winner of best in show is...Lois Walters and her Berrilicious Strawberry Pie!”

Rose laughed and shook her head. She couldn’t be mad about it. At least she got first place in her category, and the owners of Daisy’s would be thrilled enough about that. She left the stage after the hoopla and she and Joey slipped out to find some real estate for the parade. They found a shady spot on the route and settled onto the grassy slope with some sodas and a container of popcorn.

“I’m sorry you didn’t win, Mom,” Joey said.

“That’s okay,” she said, hugging him to her side. “If I won, it wouldn’t be any fun. I’d have to ride in the parade and I couldn’t watch it with you.”

“And Xander?” he added.

Rose turned to look at her son. He didn’t just have his father’s soulful eyes. He also had his smarts. Nothing got past him. “I think he will be coming, yes, but you’re more important than some silly boy I’m dating. Always.”

She didn’t date much, but she wanted it to be clear that her son was always the most important thing in the world to her. Her father had always seemed to have other priorities—his grief, his business, his criminal proclivities—and she wouldn’t do that to Joey. Even in the worst of her mother’s illness, she’d always made Rose feel as though she was the center of her universe, and that was the standard she kept to.

“I like him.”

“I’m glad,” she said, smiling. She’d always known they would get along like two peas in a pod because they were so much alike, even without ever having met before now. “I think he likes you, too.”

“Do you like him? I’ve never seen you smile the way you do when you’re with him,” Joey noted quietly. “You seem really happy together.”

At that, Rose was a little taken aback. The past days had been a change from their normal routine, but had things been that different since Xander had returned to Cornwall? “Am I not happy the rest of the time?”

Joey shrugged. “You’re tired. You work a lot. There’s not much time for you to relax and enjoy yourself. I don’t even remember you going out with anyone more than once or twice. I hope you and Xander can hang out some more.”

Rose did, too, but there was a ticking time bomb for this romantic interlude. Joey needed to know that. Xander would always be a part of his life, but not necessarily in hers the way it was now. “Well, Joey, you know he doesn’t live around here. He’s visiting family. Pretty soon he’ll go back to Washington, D.C., and work. I don’t think much will come of this.”

“You could visit him there.”

She wouldn’t even allow herself those fantasies. If she did go to D.C., it would be to take Joey for a visit. She would be the awkward third wheel. “I don’t know, Joey. We both have different lives. We’re not thinking that far ahead. Xander and I are just enjoying being together again after all this time. Did you know he was my prom date?”

Joey wrinkled his nose. “No. Really? Did he buy you one of those flower things?”

“A corsage? Yes. He got one for my wrist in red roses that matched my dress.”

“She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen in my life,” Xander said, appearing from the crowd to join them on the lawn. “When she opened the door in that red dress, I thought I might pass out on the doorstep. The only thing that kept me upright was knowing that your uncle Craig would dump me in the pond if I did.”

Rose laughed. Craig would’ve done something like that, she was certain. He’d been scowling at her the whole evening as she got ready. “Welcome, Xander. I’m surprised they didn’t corral you into the parade.”

He shrugged, settling down on the grass beside her. “I told them I had plans. I didn’t want to ride with Lois Walters anyway.”

“That’s your own fault,” Rose pointed out.

“It was good pie!” he said in his own defense. “I wish it hadn’t been hers, but damned if it wasn’t the best strawberry pie I’ve ever tasted.”

“At least Molly finally got a ribbon.”

“She’s still beaming over that. She wanted to beat Lois, of course, but a ribbon is a ribbon. Hey,” Xander added, lowering his voice a touch. “By the way, I spoke with Troy earlier.”

“Anything interesting come from that?”

Xander smiled, his dimples coming out in full force. “We are all set. The scout camp has a nurse on-site that will check in with Joey and give him pain medication if he needs it. He’ll have to skip some of the more active sports and water activities, but he’s welcome to go. I already wrote the check. All he needs aside from clothes and toiletries are a sleeping bag and a few forms filled out.”

Rose was thrilled for Joey, yet she couldn’t help wincing and shaking her head as he finished speaking. “We don’t have a sleeping bag.”

“We’ll get one this weekend. We have to drive him to the campsite and drop him off by nine a.m. on Monday morning. Pickup is Sunday evening.”

He had handled all the details. There was no way Rose could complain. She’d wanted her son to be able to go to this and now he could. “Do you want to tell him?”

“Can I?” Xander said, his expression brightening. When Rose nodded, he shouted to Joey over the oncoming marching band music. The parade would reach them any minute now. “Hey, Joey? Guess where you’re going next week.”

Their son narrowed his eyes and frowned. “To Uncle Craig’s house?”

“Nope,” Xander said. “You’re going to scout camp for the week.”

“What?” Joey said, excitement lighting his eyes. “Really? They’ll let me go with the cast and everything?”

“It’s all taken care of,” Xander replied. “We’re going to get you a sleeping bag and some first-class scouting supplies when the parade is over.”

After a moment, Joey’s enthusiasm waned a touch and his brow knit together in thought. “But wait, Mom, you said you couldn’t afford for me to go.”

Rose nodded and reached out to ruffle his hair. “Xander was nice enough to pay for it.”

“I loved going to camp. I hated for you to miss it.”

That was enough to soothe his concerns. He grinned and looked over at a group of people settling nearby. One of the boys was from his ball team and was also going to the camp, Rose recalled.

“Can I go tell Ethan?”

“Sure. Don’t wander too far or you’ll miss the parade.”

Joey leaped up and shot off, the cast only marginally slowing him down. He would probably do fine at camp unless he whacked it on something. “Thank you,” she said to Xander while still watching her son.

“You’re welcome. I know he’ll have a great time. Hey, do you have some paper to write down Troy’s number? He wanted you to give him a call to talk over things.”

“Sure.” Rose reached into her purse and pulled out a notebook and pen.

“Oh,” Xander said, and he reached down beside them. He picked a folded piece of paper off the grass and held it up to her. “You dropped this.”

Rose instantly recognized it and frowned. She’d forgotten that was in her purse. She took the paper from him and crumpled it into a ball in her hand. “Thanks,” she said dismissively.

Her pen was still poised in her other hand to write down Troy’s number when she realized he was watching her with a concerned expression furrowing his brow just as Joey’s had been a moment before.

“What was that, if you don’t mind me asking?”

She sighed and clicked the end of her ballpoint pen. Troy’s number was apparently on hold. “This,” she said, clutching the ball of paper, “is a letter from my father.”

The drawn forehead stayed firmly in place. “Really?”

“Yep. Authentic prison mail. I forgot to throw it away.” She held it up to toss it toward the nearby trash can, but Xander caught her hand and plucked the paper from her fingers.

“Does he write very often?”

“About once every two months or so.” After he was first incarcerated the letters had come more frequently, at least once a week. Over the years, they’d arrived further and further apart. That was fine by Rose. She didn’t want to receive any letters.

“Do you or Joey ever write him back?”

Rose turned away from his appraising gaze to the commotion in the street. The bearers of the Strawberry Days banner went past them, followed by the local veterans’ group waving red ribbons on sticks. A crowd had gathered along the streets now, families and friends, children on their fathers’ shoulders, and the occasional dog on a leash.

“You know, I remember coming to this festival with my dad once,” she said. “He put me on his shoulders like that little girl over there. I was maybe five at the time and at first I was scared that I would fall. But my dad had a hold of me and he said that he wouldn’t let anything happen to me. He gripped me so tightly that I forgot I was even up so high. I thought I could see the whole world from up there.”

Her gaze dropped to the grass as she fought the tears forming in her eyes. “He lied. My whole life he masqueraded as my protector, when in fact he was the one that hurt me the most.”

Xander flattened the ball of paper and scanned over the words she couldn’t bring herself to read. “He knows what he did to you, Rose, and he wishes you would write to him. He’s so sorry about what happened.”

“They’re just words, Xander. Nothing he says can change the past. And there’s nothing he can do in that medium-security federal prison for the next fifteen years. What’s done is done. The man that worked in that bank is dead and his family has lost their future with him. My father did nothing but lie to me and he will never be a part of my life again. He’s going to miss his grandson’s entire childhood. He hid the problems he was having for years. I can’t trust anything he says.”

Xander’s expression went from concerned to pained. Rose couldn’t understand why. It wasn’t his father in jail. “Everyone makes mistakes, Rose.”

“There are mistakes and then there are mistakes that leave people dead and turn you into a criminal, Xander. It was bad enough when we were just poor. He made us into trash. You want to know another reason why I never told you about Joey? It was because I was afraid that was how you’d see us. That even if you knew you had a son, you would be too embarrassed of us to ever become a part of his life.”

“Rose, you could never be trash.”

Xander reached out and tipped her chin up until she had no choice but to look into his hazel eyes. All these years, she had expected to see rejection and shame there when he found out the truth, but today she was surprised by the warmth and acceptance in his eyes. The heat of attraction. The possibility of more. Joey seemed to think that things between the two of them could last beyond his visit to Cornwall. It was a nice thought, but she refused to bet her heart on that.

“Never.”