Discovering You (16 page)

Okay. But let me sleep on the couch. I'd feel bad taking your bed.

Trust me, you'll want the privacy. Just go to sleep where you did last night. I don't know when I'll get back, anyway.

Are you sure?

Positive. Then I won't have to worry about you.

I'm sorry.

For what?

For everything.

It's going to be fine
, he keyed in—and hoped that was true.

15

A
fter texting with Rod, India managed to build a new vase. She also fired it, as well as the wind chimes she'd created over the past week. The kiln required so much electricity she had to wait until she had enough pieces to fill it. Ceramics could be a very imperfect process. Although various glazes did unexpected things in the kiln, these had come out great. She felt good about what she'd accomplished. She was improving as an artist, could see it in her work.

After she was done, she called her in-laws to check on Cassia. Claudia, who answered, treated her coolly. And at the end of their conversation, when India finally asked to speak to Cassia, she received the same old runaround; Claudia said Cassia was outside in the swimming pool with Papa and tomorrow would be better.

India was so frustrated it was harder than ever to bite her tongue. She quickly got off the phone, but she was afraid that if she stayed home, she'd call them back and resume the argument that'd been brewing since the trial. Sitting around brooding on all the complaints she had against them wasn't going to improve her mood. So she showered, put on a summer dress and left to enjoy the idyllic town she'd chosen to live in.

Fortunately, the weather had improved. A cool wind stirred the trees as the sun slid down behind the distinctive buildings on Sutter Street. Just walking through the center of town and seeing the nineteenth-century architecture of the old Victorian homes and the many quaint shops helped her relax. She liked imagining which building she might rent for her shop—or where she might build, since there weren't too many options.

She spent a whole hour becoming more familiar with Whiskey Creek, but when she decided to eat, there didn't seem to be a lot of choices. A burger joint off the main drag, a small sandwich shop not far from the park and a diner called Just Like Mom's. The diner was almost insufferably tacky, but it was busy, which suggested the food was good. India got the impression that the purple paint and “visiting grandma's house” feel were part of its charm—or the owner did such a brisk business he or she didn't need to update.

When India entered and approached the hostess station, she was feeling significantly better than she had at home and was glad she'd opted for a change of scenery.

“Just one?” The hostess looked behind her as if she expected to see someone else come in.

“Just one,” India echoed. After being part of a couple, and then a family of three for so long, she found it difficult to be alone all the time. But the Sommerses didn't seem to think that deserved any consideration.

“We're clearing off a table,” the hostess told her. “Give us a minute.”

India surreptitiously watched her fellow citizens as she waited. Would she fit in here in Whiskey Creek? Would she even have the chance? A security system could provide some warning if Sebastian tried to break in, but it wouldn't stop him.
She'd
have to do that.

“Right this way.” With a pleasant smile, the hostess led her across the restaurant to a small table.

India was so intent on getting seated that she almost didn't recognize the man in a nearby booth, eating with a woman. If not for the brace on his nose, India wouldn't particularly have noticed him. But someone with a broken nose wasn't a common sight. That brace caught her eye as she sat down. Then she realized who he was—the guy who'd been lying unconscious on the side of the road Friday night!

So he was out of the hospital...

“We have to do
something
.” The woman who was with him leaned close, obviously intent on convincing him. “We can't let him get away with what he did.”

Him?
India would've focused on her menu and let them eat in peace. But that snippet of conversation grabbed her attention.

“We're not letting him get away with it. I'm pressing charges, aren't I?”

They were talking about Rod; they had to be.

“He should serve time, Liam.”

“He won't serve time, Sharon. There are rapists and murderers who go to trial and get off with a slap on the wrist. Why would they put Rod Amos behind bars?”

“Because he's dangerous!”

There was a brief pause during which India held her breath. Rod
wasn't
dangerous. How unfair that they were talking about him as if he was a criminal. He'd reacted as most people would react, if they were capable of it, given the situation.

“So...what are you saying?” Liam asked.

Sharon lowered her voice so much that India had to slide over to hear. “I'm saying he must've had a weapon. Look what he did to your face. Broke your nose
and
your jaw.”

A weapon?
Shock and outrage made India clench her teeth.

“At least I didn't need to have my jaw wired shut.” Liam spoke with his mouth full, which he certainly wouldn't have been able to do if the doctor had wired his jaw.

“Does that mean we should
thank
him?” Sharon said. “Think of the hospital bill, if you're not pissed off enough about your injuries. You have a $3,500 deductible! How will you ever pay it?”

India couldn't hear what Liam muttered next. Then Sharon started in again. “He and his brothers own a business here in Whiskey Creek. He's got money. I've looked into it.”

Although it wasn't easy, India stopped herself from shooting to her feet and saying something to them.

“I'm going to
try
to make him pay,” Liam responded. “But it isn't up to me—”

“Yes, it is!” she broke in. “It'll depend on what you tell Chief Bennett when you give him your statement tomorrow morning. If Rod Amos had a weapon, that would change things. He must've used
something
besides his fists to do that much damage. You're just not remembering it right. No wonder after you got beaten up so badly. You've got to take some time and think about it, get your story straight before you go in there.”

The tone of Liam's voice changed, grew speculative. “What kind of weapon do you think it was?”

India could tell Liam knew there'd been no weapon. He was asking what he should say in order to get Rod in the greatest trouble. But Sharon noticed India at that moment and must've realized she was eavesdropping, because she whispered to her companion, then asked what he thought of his dinner instead of answering the question.

India sat through her own meal, trying to pretend she hadn't been listening and didn't have any idea what they were talking about. She hoped they'd relax and return to the subject, so she could learn more about their plans. But they didn't. They visited other topics, paid their bill soon after and walked out, leaving her with a sense of foreboding.

She would've been upset if she'd overheard two people planning to lie about anyone. She especially didn't want to see Rod hurt.

When she was finished, she drove over to the police station. She was nervous about drawing attention to herself. She preferred to lie low, so she could adjust to her new life and move on. But she couldn't let Liam and Sharon purposely misrepresent what'd happened Friday night.

At first she was glad she'd gathered up the nerve to go see Chief Bennett. He recognized her and treated her kindly—until he wrote down her name. Although she'd mentioned it the night of the accident, this time he connected it to all the press coverage about her husband's death. Once he confirmed that she was, indeed, the woman who'd been married to the murdered doctor, his manner changed. From that point on, he acted as if he couldn't take her quite as seriously now that he knew she'd been involved in
two
police situations in such a short time.

“Thanks for stopping by,” he said after he'd made a few notes. “I'll keep your statement on file in case this goes anywhere and be in touch if I need to speak to you again.”

“Okay.” She stood and smoothed her dress. “I appreciate you hearing me out. I just... I felt you should know. Rod didn't have a weapon.”

“You sure about that?” he asked before she could step out of his office.

Hearing the challenge in his voice, she threw back her shoulders. “I am.”

“You were there when the two men were fighting? You
saw
what happened?”

“No, I...I came on the scene after, like I told you. But he wasn't holding anything. And I have no reason to lie.”

“Why couldn't he have put down any weapon he might've used before you arrived, Ms. Sommers?”

She blinked at him. “Because he never had one. I'm telling you, the conversation I overheard at Just Like Mom's was upsetting. Sharon, the woman who was speaking to Liam, was clearly suggesting that he lie.”

He checked his notes. “When she said he couldn't be remembering the fight correctly. That the damage to his face suggested Rod must've used a weapon.”

“Yes!”

“To be honest, I'm not sure those sound like entirely unreasonable statements, Ms. Sommers. Rod has a history in this town, after all.”

“For using
weapons
?”

“Not necessarily. But for finding trouble.”

“It wasn't what Sharon said as much as the way she said it,” India told him.

“I see. Well, I've got it all right here.” He tapped the file on his desk. “Thanks for coming in.”

She'd been dismissed. She had no choice but to nod and take her leave.

As she walked to her car, she was afraid she hadn't helped Rod at all. And she knew she'd have even less credibility if it ever came out that she'd been in his bed.

* * *

Natasha would barely speak to him while he arranged her airfare. Mack asked her several questions. How she'd get from the airport to the apartment complex. Whether she'd checked the surrounding area to see if there was a store nearby. Whether or not she really wanted to leave so early. But she just sat on his bed while he used the laptop he typically lent her and scowled at him whenever he turned around.

“Are you really going to make our last week this miserable?” he asked.

“Are
you
?” she retorted.

“Stop being angry. You have so much to look forward to.”

“So? I'm not looking forward to
any
of it.”

“Because you don't know what you'd be missing,” he said, going back to the computer screen.

“Because what I want is right here. And I'm not afraid to say it.”

He sent her a sharp look, since she'd spoken so loudly. The door was open and Grady was in the other room, watching TV. That was the only reason Mack had felt comfortable letting Natasha in. Nothing could happen between them; they didn't have the privacy. “You have to stop talking that way,” he said softly. “You have to stop
thinking
that way, too.”

She glared at him. “You'd rather I lied to myself like you do?”

He took a deep breath. “I'm not lying to myself. I'm respecting boundaries. You should try it sometime. What you pulled this morning—that can't happen again.”

Her lips curved into a devilish smile. “You liked what I did this morning.”

“No, I didn't,” he lied.

“Yes, you did. You want me to do it right now. You want me to do a lot of things.”

“Stop it,” he demanded. “You're making life harder than it has to be.”

“You're putting something between us that doesn't really exist—other than in your own mind!”

“And the minds of everyone else in this family and in this town!”

She folded her arms. “I don't care about anyone else.”

“You should.”

Grady turned off the television. In the sudden quiet, Mack raised his hand to tell Natasha not to say anything. He assumed Grady would head on upstairs and go to bed. At dinner he'd mentioned he wasn't feeling that well. But he poked his head into the room.

“What's going on in here?”

“Nothing. I'm just booking Natasha's travel,” Mack replied.

Grady shifted his gaze to her. “Can't believe our baby sister is all grown up.”

“
Baby?
I haven't been a baby from the moment I met you. Quit being so fucking patronizing!” she said and pushed her way past him.

“Holy shit,” Grady said. “What's gotten into
her
lately?”

Mack rubbed his face. “She's going through a big transition.”

“I guess so. Jeez. These days you can't say anything to her without having her sound off.”

Mack remembered her hand squeezing his genitals at the shop this morning and turned toward the computer. “You remember what it's like at that age. You want so much that you can't have.”

“But she's going to get it all. We've seen to that!”

“She's grateful. She's just...having a hard time leaving. Must be nervous about it.”

He hooked his hands above the door frame. “Then why is she going
early
?”

“Sometimes it's easier to confront something you've been dreading, get it over with.”

“I guess,” he said, but he shook his head as if he still didn't understand. “She's getting harder and harder to deal with.”

“She'll be fine once she moves out on her own.”

“I'm going to talk to her. She shouldn't be losing her temper all the time.” He dropped his hands, ready to go after her, but Mack stopped him.

“Leave her alone,” he said and didn't realize until after he'd said it that he'd sounded a little too defensive.

“Really?”
Grady said. “I didn't do anything, and you're taking
her
side?”

“How she's acting isn't your problem. So she's got some growing pains. Give her a chance to deal with them. She'll be fine when she comes home for Thanksgiving.” Hopefully, by then, he'd have himself under control, too.