Back Where She Belongs(31)

“I ran into her. It was awkward. I offended her, I think. She thought I didn’t know her name, then I cut her off trying to fix it.”

“You were nervous. So was she.”

“I’m sure that’s true.” She looked thoughtful. “I envy the two of you. That you’re friends. You help each other, cook together, do each other favors.”

“It wasn’t easy, believe me. But we both wanted it, so we worked at it.”

“Yeah,” she said, going still. “You think we will ever be like that? You and me?”

No. He knew it instantly. It would be too difficult. He would always want more.

“You don’t,” she said. “I can see that. I’m not the work-for-it kind of person, am I?” She dropped her eyes to hide how hurt she was, pushing her beer forward, then sliding it back.

“It’s not that,” he said, stopping her hand, taking it in both of his. He’d made her feel bad about herself back then. There was the sadness of that beneath every word they said to each other.

“It’s not you, Tara. It’s us. The way we were. It was different with us than it ever was with Candee. Deeper somehow.” He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumbs, wanting to press the truth into her.

“You think so?” she asked.

“I do.”

“So we should give up on being friends?”

“No. But we have to be careful with each other, not get ourselves into tempting situations.”

“That makes sense,” she said, looking down at his hands holding hers so tightly. He didn’t want to let go. They lifted their eyes to each other. Her lips parted, about to speak.

“Watch it! Hot!” The waitress had arrived, holding their food.

They yanked their hands apart, the server’s words truer than she knew.

She set down the dishes and left. The aroma of spicy beef and buttery pastry filled the air.

“Smells great,” Tara said, clearly relieved for the interruption. She seemed as alarmed by the push-pull between them as he felt.

“Yum,” Tara said, licking her lips after the first bite. “These are delicious. I’ve never tasted anything like it.”

“So Wharton does have something you like. First, the empanadas. Next, the whole town.”

“Even you can’t believe that.”

“Wait until you taste the flan.” He didn’t know why he kept pushing her, trying to convince her, but he could no more stop himself than he could stop the fire in his blood when he looked at her.

She laughed, the familiar liquid honey sound he remembered so well. “You’re funnier than you used to be,” she said. “I like that.”

“Good,” he said, entirely too pleased. He remembered that she’d lightened the heaviness of his life back then. She’d kept him on his toes, challenged him. He felt the same thing now, he realized, and he liked it. He had to remember that when he got serious about someone. She needed to...tickle his brain.

“Do you think if I apologized to Candee, she would give me some insights into the company’s finances?” Tara said after they’d eaten more.

“Candee’s a cool head. She’d be discreet. I’ll talk to her.”

“That’d be great. Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet. She’ll probably drag you to her next party. I think it’s candles.”

She groaned, then grinned. “I’ll go if you go.”

“Candles? No way. I’m holding out for power tools.”

“Why? You love candles. Remember that time your parents went on an overnight and you made a path to the bed with tea candles?”

“And Duster knocked them into the curtains, which went up in flames? Of course I remember that.”

“We were beating back the flames with wet towels, the smoke alarm squealing. Good times, huh?”

“To you maybe. Though my parents were so busy fighting they didn’t seem to care what happened to the curtains.”

“Yeah. That was hard on you—your parents’ breakup.” Tara put down her fork. “And, actually, I just found out that my father wanted to divorce my mother.”

“What?”

“Yeah.” She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “We got my dad’s personal effects and I went through his wallet looking for clues. I found an appointment card with a divorce lawyer. I called the office and they told me Dad had met with the guy several times.” She looked bewildered.

“Damn.”

“I know. It blew me away. I mean, I knew they weren’t close, but it’s tearing me up inside. I don’t understand why.”

“Because they’re your parents. They’re supposed to be together. They just took a jackhammer to the foundation of your life.”

“Exactly!” She looked at him with gratitude. “I knew you’d understand. That’s it. It’s like my life’s been shaken up in a bag and dumped out, pieces falling everywhere. I don’t know what’s true anymore.”

“And you feel helpless.”

“I do. That, too. I don’t think my mother knows, thank God. But I can’t figure out why all of a sudden Dad would do this. Something happened, don’t you think? Maybe Dad found out about Bill Fallon hitting on my mother... Maybe that night, Bill Fallon was with Mom instead of at poker... Maybe he was coming back when the accident happened... That could be what he’s hiding and why my mother seems so messed up.”

Her eyes were frantic, and he could tell the speculation was distracting her from the pain and confusion she felt.

“Sounds kind of far-fetched, don’t you think?”

But she didn’t hear him. “What if Faye found out? Maybe her let it go text was about the divorce. Maybe that’s why they were together that night. Maybe that’s why she saw a therapist. She would be even more upset than I am.” Her eyes darted like her words. “The poker guys! They have to know something. You said you’d talk to one of them, remember? That’s important.”

“I said I would if I could figure out the right approach.”

“I still don’t know where the car is. Maybe you could ask Fallon. Surely he knows. Also, you should confirm that they did collect the evidence. While you’re at it, check the photos.”

“I can’t hound the man, Tara.”

She locked gazes with him, finally acknowledging he was part of this conversation. “Hound the man? You mean make sure he does his job? They could junk the car any day, Dylan. We can’t waste time.”

“If I push, he’ll dig in his heels.”

“I don’t care how small the town, police are supposed to investigate. The law is the law. And you’re his boss. You could fire him.”

Dylan had to work with Fallon after Tara was gone. He didn’t need more enmity than already existed. He wanted no trouble from Fallon until he retired. “We’re not tracking a suspect, Tara. We have no reason to believe a crime has been committed. Fallon will do what I asked, don’t worry.”

She looked at him in a way he remembered with dread, as if he’d betrayed her. “And if we find evidence that a crime has been committed? What then? Will we pursue it? Or cover it up?”

“Come on, Tara.”

She stared at him, clearly fighting the urge to argue. She sat back, then spoke in a voice of forced calm. “Okay. You won’t push him. However, I think we should get a different mechanic to check the car. If Tony Carmichael serviced my father’s cars, like you said, he might not admit that the brakes failed.”

“Tony’s honest. He’s worked on our cars forever.”

“He’s human. Humans don’t like to admit failure. And with all this foot-dragging, I think I should hire an accident expert. They’ll have forensic mechanics who’ll know what to look for in the engine. Better yet, tell Fallon I’m bringing in experts and maybe he’ll snap to and do his job. Unless he’s guilty, of course, and then he’ll—”

“Hold it.” Dylan raised his hands. “The only thing Bill Fallon is guilty of is lazy police work. You agreed we’d find out what we could before you call out the artillery.”

“You said you’d help me,” she said, anger crackling in her eyes.

“I am helping you. I’m trying to be the voice of reason. But you don’t trust me. I can see that. Nobody’s innocent to you. Not even me.”

“I get it,” she said, her voice low with held-back fury. “Your job is to babysit me until I get tired of spinning my wheels and give up and leave. That’s it, isn’t it? You and Bill Fallon probably worked it all out, had a good laugh over me being so frantic.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“I should have known.”