Watch Your Back (41 page)

‘What is this?’ Clay asked icily when Pearson stared at him, wide-eyed.

Tanner shot him a warning glare. ‘Watch your tone, boy,’ he snapped. He slid his arm around the deputy protectively, pulling her close to his side. ‘It’s exactly what it looks like. Nell and I . . .’ He looked down at the deputy with a rueful smile. ‘What are you, honey?’

‘His companion,’ she said. ‘I’ve heard so much about you, Clay. I didn’t want you to find out about me like this. Your dad and I have gotten close.’

‘I can see that,’ Clay said coldly.

‘Clay,’ Stevie murmured. She gave his upper arm a squeeze. ‘Take a minute. Please.’

Clay shook her off. He needed to get out. Needed to explode. He headed for the back door, but he could hear the damn thumping of her cane behind him. ‘Back off, Stevie,’ he growled.

He flew out the back door, needing to run. Needing to burn off this
mad
.

‘You’re not wearing any shoes,’ she called after him. ‘You’ll get sick or cut your feet.’

He whipped around, saw Stevie standing in the doorway and his temper detonated. ‘You are
not
my mother,’ he hissed. ‘And I don’t want you to just be my “friend”. You don’t want anything more from me than protection and an occasional topping off of your tank, so you do
not
get to pretend you care. Get ready to leave. When I come back, I’m taking you back to the city.’

She opened her mouth to speak, then wisely closed it.

‘Good choice,’ he said harshly. He got to the back gate when something hit the fence beside him. His shoe. His other shoe hit in the exact same place.

She had a good arm. With that kind of control she could have beaned him, but had chosen to hit the fence instead. Point taken, he looked over his shoulder.

Stevie held a flak jacket in one hand, a helmet in the other. ‘Do what you want,’ she said quietly. ‘Just don’t get shot.’ She dropped the jacket and helmet and closed the door behind her.

Monday, March 17, 12.00
P.M.

Stevie returned to the kitchen to find Tanner and Deputy Pearson standing arm in arm, looking both shell-shocked and forlorn. For a moment the three of them regarded each other warily.

‘Well,’ Stevie murmured. ‘This is awkward.’

Deputy Pearson looked like she was holding Tanner up. ‘Sit down, Tanner,’ she said.

‘I’m not infirm, Nell. I don’t need to sit down,’ Tanner snapped, then sighed. ‘I’m sorry, honey. I knew he’d be upset. I never guessed he would be like this.’

Pearson ran her hand down his arm. ‘Give him time. He’ll come around. It was a shock.’

I’ll say
, Stevie muttered in her mind.

Tanner poured himself a cup of coffee. ‘I’ll sit outside and wait for him to come back.’

The door closed, leaving Stevie alone with the deputy, who turned to the stove and began cooking. ‘Are you hungry, Detective?’

‘Call me Stevie. And yeah, I’m famished. But you don’t have to cook for me. I can microzap something.’

‘I cook when I’m nervous or upset,’ she said. ‘I’ve cooked a lot the last few days, ever since Tanner told me on Saturday that Clay was on his way with you and your daughter. It worked out, though. Tanner had a houseful of people, so none of what I cooked went to waste.’

‘Ah. You made the lasagna we ate last night. And the beef stew we ate the night before. You’re a very good cook.’

‘Thank you.’

Stevie watched as Nell whisked a bowl full of eggs and poured them in a pan, reminded of Izzy, who honestly enjoyed being in the kitchen. ‘Cooking makes me stressed out. Luckily my sister does all the cooking in our house. She lives with us.’

‘You’re lucky to have someone to take care of your daughter when you’re on duty.’

‘My sister Izzy is good that way. She makes pancakes with smiley faces to make me less “scowly”. She seems to make them more frequently as the years pass,’ Stevie added ruefully. ‘Do you not have anyone to watch your child when you work?’

‘My son is fifteen. He can look after himself now, but Tanner checks on him if I’m going to be really late. I keep a fairly regular schedule in any case. One of the perks of being a small-town deputy. When I worked Special Victims in Boston, my hours were all over the clock.’

‘So . . . does Sheriff Moore know about you and Tanner?’

Nell slid a plate of fluffy eggs in front of her. ‘No. We’ve been pretty discreet. Until today. God, what was I thinking?’

‘No offense, Deputy, but I ain’t touchin’ that with a ten foot pole.’

Nell chuckled. ‘I don’t blame you. And please call me Nell.’

‘I will.’ Stevie took a bite of the eggs and sighed. ‘You really are a damn good cook, Nell.’

‘I took lessons, actually.’ She brought a large mixing bowl down from one of the upper cabinets. ‘My husband was the cook, may he rest in peace. When I lost him, I had to learn to cook or Ben and I would have starved. Ben’s old enough to cook for himself now, but he was only four then.’ She poured cream in the bowl and set it on the Kitchenaid stand. ‘This’ll be loud for a minute or two. It’s a little more trouble but fresh whipped cream is so much better.’

‘On eggs?’

Nell smiled ruefully. ‘No. I’m super nervous right now. You’re getting pancakes, too.’

Stevie watched her move around the kitchen efficiently, while the cream was whipping. When the mixer stopped, Stevie asked the question that had popped into her head a minute before, not worrying that it might not be appropriate. She felt a camaraderie with the deputy that was unexpected.

Maybe because they’d both lost husbands. Maybe because they were both cops. Maybe because Nell had stood up for Stevie against both her boss and her lover yesterday. ‘How did your husband die, Nell?’

‘Drunk driver. He went to pick up Ben from soccer practice but never made it. I’d never been on the receiving end of a notification before.’

Stevie thought of the moment she’d looked up, seen Hyatt staring down at her with dread. ‘Been there, done that.’

‘I know.’ Nell measured dry ingredients in another bowl and mixed them by hand. ‘When I met Tanner, I was not ready to start dating.’ She shot Stevie a self-deprecating grin. ‘He kept chipping away at my “No, Tanner”, until it became an “Ohhh, Tanner”.’

Stevie laughed at Nell’s quick and bawdy wit. ‘I like you, Deputy. Nell.’

‘I like you, too.’ Nell looked out the window in the back door and sighed. ‘My family doesn’t know about him yet. My son suspects of course, but he’s not going to ask. At fifteen you don’t want to think about your parents having sex lives.’

‘At forty-one, either,’ Stevie said gently. ‘That you’re close to Clay’s age has to sting.’

‘I figured that. I can’t help how old I am any more than Tanner can.’

‘You love him.’

‘I do. He’s proposed. I said yes.’ Nell laughed a little breathlessly. ‘You’re the first person I’ve told.’

‘It’s an honor. And I won’t betray your trust. Can I ask you another question?’

‘Of course.’ Nell poured the batter she’d mixed onto a griddle.

‘Were you scared?’

‘Of Tanner? Of intimacy? Of getting hurt again? Yes, to all. I think, though, the thing that scared me the most was screwing it up. My husband and I had been together for a long time. We’d made a child together. He was a good man. Very patient with his cop wife who went off “to the Crusades”, as he used to call it. I’d get a victim under my skin and I’d go after justice. I used to think about how blessed I was that I had a man who loved me despite all my failings.’

‘I can relate.’

‘I thought you might. I finally realized that it wasn’t the fear of losing a man again that was making me tell Tanner no. It was the belief that it could never be as good again.’

Second best
, Stevie thought. ‘I can relate to that, too. Your husband had been your soul mate. How can you find that again?’

‘That wasn’t it, exactly. I kept thinking, when’s Tanner gonna figure it out? When’s he gonna know what a problem I am, how hard I am to live with? When’s he gonna realize that I’m not worth the trouble?’

‘Why would he?’ Stevie asked with a frown. ‘You’d had a good marriage before. Your first husband thought you were worth it.’

Nell turned, holding a plate in her hand. ‘But he was a saint. He loved me even though I clearly did not deserve him. You know, all the things you think after they’re gone.’

‘It’s safer to remember the good,’ Stevie murmured. ‘Especially when it really was good.’

‘Exactly. I was going crazy waiting for the shoe to drop. And then I realized that Tanner loved me not in spite of what I was and not despite all the things that needed fixing. But
because
of who I was.’

Stevie stared at her. A piece of the jigsaw puzzle in her mind came crashing down, filling a major hole with a pivotal realization. ‘You were afraid you’d fail at a relationship the second time because your husband carried you the first time. He’d done all the work.’

‘Yes,’ she said quietly. ‘But I was wrong. And you are, too.’ She put the plate on the table and Stevie let out a ragged breath, her eyes stinging with tears.

It was a smiley-face pancake, just like Izzy liked to make, except it had a cloud of whipped cream for hair. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

Nell shrugged. ‘Pancakes are easy.’

But that wasn’t what Stevie had meant. ‘For the pancake, too. Izzy will love the hair idea.’

Nell squeezed her shoulder. ‘I have to go now. I’m on duty soon. Tell Clay I’ll catch up with him later.’ She took the coffee pot out to refill Tanner’s mug and when she returned, her mouth was noticeably plumper, her eyes dreamier. Apparently Tanner could kiss.

Like father, like son.

Stevie waved goodbye and dug into the pancake, torn between the need to go find Clay to make things right between them, and the need to call her sister to do the same.

Looking at the smiley-faced pancake, she thought of the things Izzy did without complaint. Izzy had made them a home.
And I’ve never really thanked her
. Izzy had helped Stevie raise Cordelia. Her sister had more than earned the right to have a say in Cordelia’s welfare.

Stevie had been harsh on Saturday, even as she’d accepted Izzy’s apologies.
She shouldn’t have deceived me about Cordelia and the horses, but .
 . . Izzy had been right.

Stevie needed to apologize for the words she’d said, but she also needed to thank her for all she’d done in the last eight years. Izzy had done what was right for Cordelia, when Stevie hadn’t been able to see the problem, much less a solution.

As had Clay. Stevie had different things to make right with him, but identical goals. She’d talk to Clay when he returned. Hopefully he’d be less angry than when he’d left.

For now, she found Tanner’s secure home phone and called her sister. ‘Hi, Izzy. It’s me.’

Monday, March 17, 1.05
P.M.

Clay jogged up to the beach house, ignoring the jibes he got from Joseph’s agents and CSU teams who were still processing both the patch of sand where the shooter had lain in wait and the dock area where most of the shots had landed. He guessed it wasn’t every day they saw a shirtless man running on the beach wearing a flak jacket and a helmet.

And shoes, thanks to Stevie. He’d run some of the sexual frustration out of his system and now felt thoroughly ashamed of himself. He’d lashed out at his father for the very thing he’d been pushing Stevie to do – move past the death of a spouse.

He pushed open the gate and stopped. His father sat on the porch swing alone, sipping from a cup of coffee and looking tired.

‘I’m sorry, Dad.’ Clay let the gate close with a clang, pulled off the helmet and the jacket and settled on the swing next to Tanner. ‘I had no right and I’m so sorry.’

‘No problem. I’ve been trying to tell you all weekend, but every time I had a chance, something seemed to happen to distract me. Or maybe I was looking for excuses.’

‘I’m glad you’re not lonely. I really am. I’ve worried about you out here all by yourself. It was just . . . a shock. And I was in a shitty mood to start with. I hope I haven’t ruined anything for you and Deputy Pearson.’

‘You should call her Nell.’

Clay felt his heart settle. When his father said her name, it was with near reverence. ‘I will. Where did you meet her, and when?’

‘At a diner. Seems like I am destined to meet women at diners.’

Clay smiled. Tanner had met his mother at the diner at which she’d waited tables.

‘Nell was having coffee and so was I. We started to talk and then one thing led to another.’ Tanner shrugged. ‘There will never be another woman like your mother. But Nell’s a good woman. She makes me happy to wake up in the morning again. I hope you’ll give her a chance.’

‘I will. I promise.’ Clay hunched forward, elbows on his knees. ‘So, are you going to marry her or something?’

‘Hell yeah, I’m going to marry her. She hasn’t told her son. We were going to tell you first.’

‘Thanks. Now that conversation at the dock makes sense. She wanted you to tell me that their dive was a drill but you and Lou didn’t want to. She seemed pretty steamed.’

‘She was. But I sweetened her up,’ Tanner added smugly.

Clay choked. ‘God. I don’t want to think about that.’ He lifted his gaze to his father’s boat and a detail fell into place. ‘Well, at least the chocolate condoms make sense now.’

It was Tanner’s turn to choke and coffee spewed everywhere. Laughing, Clay pounded his father’s back. ‘Serves you right, old man.’

‘God, Clay.’ Tanner wiped his mouth with his sleeve. ‘Those were a joke,’ he sputtered. ‘For Valentine’s Day.’

‘I’m glad we cleared that up,’ Clay said mildly, returning to his hunched position. ‘I was going crazy trying to imagine which woman could have left them there.’

‘Like you have so many,’ Tanner grunted.

‘True enough. Right now, you’re one up on me.’

Tanner sighed. ‘I told you last night, son. It’s harder than it seems.’

‘I get that. I also feel like a giant hypocrite, mad at you for doing what I tried to get her to do. Except it’s been eight years since Paul Mazzetti died.’

‘In many ways, for her it’s yesterday. She broke your heart once and I’m still mad at her for that. But I can’t be too mad. I had to convince Nell, and her husband had been dead for eleven years. I also had to find a neutral place. Somewhere your mother hadn’t been. The boat was the perfect place. A little wine, a good meal . . . You gotta charm the ladies, son.’