Good Girls Lie(77)
“Ford?” Melanie calls from the antechamber. “Sheriff Wood is here.”
Ford, startled from her dark thoughts, looks up to see the sheriff’s car is sitting outside her window. She hadn’t even noticed him drive up.
Without another thought, she deletes the email and exits the program. Yes, she is kicking the can down the road, but she needs time to think. To plan.
To talk to Rumi.
She pinches her cheeks and pastes on a smile.
“Send him in, Melanie.”
57
THE BABY
Tony looks wrecked, dark circles under his eyes. He’s wearing the same uniform as last night; she can smell spilled coffee and the acrid scent of his sweat.
She waits to see if his niece parades in after him, is relieved to see he is alone.
Though Melanie is floating around him like a hopeful lightning bug. “Sheriff? Coffee? Tea? I can send to the kitchens for some cookies if you need a boost.”
“No thanks, Melanie. Appreciate it.”
Melanie wilts, then pulls the door. If Ford wasn’t freaking out, she would laugh. Yes, Tony is a catch. For someone.
He takes a seat across from Ford. Balances his hat on his knee. Yawns.
“You look as bad as I feel.”
“You always were a charmer, Ford.” But the recrimination is made without heat.
“I didn’t mean to be rude. I’m sorry.” She is. She needs him on her side, on Goode’s side, now more than ever.
“No worries. I haven’t slept. I wanted to drop by and fill you in. The official report will be filed tomorrow.”
“Okay. Shoot.”
“They found something on the post. Kid was still pregnant. Apparently, the pills didn’t work, or she never took them. They took tissue samples for a DNA run. Since no one claims to know who she might have been sleeping with, we’ll at least have something to go on. If you can tell me who she was seeing, we can get a match faster. Take a couple of weeks, minimum.”
Two weeks. This is good news.
She has time to warn Rumi. They can make a plan.
“Oh, how terrible. I don’t have any news on the relationship front, I’m afraid. What about her parents? Do they know?”
“No. The mom’s a real piece of work, isn’t she?”
“No comment.”
“I hear she’s making noises about a lawsuit? Care to comment on that?”
“Yes. She’s a lawyer, and she’s in pain. The two don’t go well together. People always want someone to blame. Though I am to blame. It’s my job to keep the students safe, and clearly I failed. I didn’t even know Camille was suicidal. Though in my defense, no one else did, either.”
“If you want to keep the family jewels intact, I’d refrain from saying that aloud again, publicly or privately.”
“My mother agrees with you.”
“Your mother is here?” Tony looks over his shoulder as if he expects Jude to be standing behind him, scowling as she always does when Tony Wood is in her presence.
“She showed up in town a couple of days ago. Almost as if she could smell the crisis brewing.”
“Hmm.”
“What do you mean, ‘hmm’?”
“She have access to the keys?”
“Tony! My God. You’re out of your mind.”
“Timing’s just weird, that’s all. I didn’t know y’all were getting along.”
“We aren’t, which is why the house on the square normally stands empty and she lives full time in New York. Don’t worry. She’s conniving, but she’s not crazy. She’ll be out of here soon enough.”
“Why’d she show up now?”
“To push an endowment stipulation in my face. Someone in the alumni association thought they could get to me through her.” At his blank look, she waves a hand. “It’s irrelevant, they’re setting up a play for Goode to go coed.”
“Is that all?”
“It won’t happen. And my mother does this. I don’t talk to her for weeks and then she appears as if everything is normal and expects me to play along. She misses the school, I think. It was her life for so long.”
“And it’s not yours?”
“It is. But perhaps not in the same way.”
“That’s right. You’re getting out.”
“Would you please stop throwing that in my face?” She stands and goes to the window. She doesn’t want to be too close to him right now. Doesn’t need to have her barriers broken down. Because she could use a friend. She could use a man. Some real comfort. Some real love. Not being fucked against a wall by a handyman.
Well, that’s over.
“Sorry, Ford. Sorry. Really. Gosh, you bring out the worst in me sometimes.” He rubs a big hand over his face. “Guess I’m not as over you as I thought.”
His eyes find hers, hopeful. She can’t do this. If she opens this door again, she’s going to end up stuck in this tiny town, married to a cop, nursemaid to a bunch of spoiled rich girls, sitting down for dinner every night to hear about the gruesome car accidents and deer slaughters and meth busts that make up 90 percent of a rural sheriff’s work life. It doesn’t matter that he’s handsome and kind and crazy about her. No. No!