Dangerous Alterations (23 page)

Yet, if she was honest with herself, it was the kind of exhaustion that had nothing whatsoever to do with her hellishly long day and everything to do with the hopelessness that had gripped her heart the moment she stepped off Lynn’s porch.

Try as she might, she simply couldn’t shake the image of the woman standing in the door as Tori pulled away, the mixture of concern and sadness she saw in her face drowning out everything else.

Favorite songs hadn’t erased the image.

The thrill of a few hairpin turns hadn’t erased the image.

The warmth of Milo’s voice in her ear hadn’t erased the image, either.

And she knew why.

Lynn was in pain. The kind of pain that gripped your heart and made you doubt everything about the world as well as yourself. Tori knew that pain, remembered that pain, and it was enough to make her ache for this woman she barely knew. Toss in the fact Lynn was sick, too, and, well, it was the kind of reality that made Tori restless to do something.

The problem, though, was figuring out what that something was or could be.

Having Jeff humiliate her in front of her friends and family two years earlier had been devastating but she’d been able to move on, to pick herself up and brush herself off. Lynn couldn’t do that. The woman’s health situation made it impossible for her to move on, forcing her, instead, to live with the humiliation that came from Garrett’s behavior day in and day out.

She flopped onto her bed and stared up at the ceiling, her hand blindly reaching for the neck pillow she preferred to hug while deep in thought. It was incomprehensible to her how Lynn could look the other way at Vera’s wake as Garrett so boldly positioned his mistress beside him in the receiving line.

It took guts and class to handle such a hideous act of betrayal in the way in which Lynn had that day. The kind of guts and class Tori wasn’t sure she could have possessed under the same circumstances.

Yet
Lynn
was the one struck by a life-threatening disease?

It was the kind of life question for which there was no answer, the kind of cruel irony that propelled her to search out ways to make things better. But, short of standing Garrett in the middle of the Sweet Briar town square and handing rocks to every woman she knew, she was at a loss on how.

And while the stoning image was appealing, it wouldn’t make things better. In fact, it would probably make things worse for a woman who counted on the louse for the very life he was crushing with his behavior.

“At least she has the house,” she whispered into the darkness, the statement bringing little comfort in return.

If Lynn was healthy, she could leave, start a new life far away from Garrett Calder. But she wasn’t.

One by one she considered and discarded various ways she could help …

She could hold a fundraiser.

She could draft her friends to make dinners.

She could meet with Garrett and beg him to be a man.

But none of them would be enough for the long haul or someone battling the kind of breast cancer Lynn had.
That
would take a miracle. The kind of miracle Tori was incapable of setting in motion.

Hence the feeling of hopelessness that had not only made the drive home with her but also seemed poised and ready to spend the night.

In three days Milo would be home. There would be time enough to ask him the nagging questions that had surfaced at the bakery, and time enough to bounce her concerns for Lynn off his always understanding ears.

For now, though, she had to find a way to push the things she couldn’t change to the background in favor of the things she could.

Top on the list? Kelly’s probable hand in the library fire and her equally likely involvement in Jeff’s death.

While the former was a subject she looked forward to addressing, the latter was sure to rustle up feelings she longed to bury once and for all.

Baby steps.

She rolled onto her side and stared at the digital clock on her nightstand.

10:30

Oh, how she longed to call Leona, to work through some of the emotions tugging her heart in too many directions at one time. But she couldn’t. It was simply too late.

Or was it?

Nibbling her lower lip inward, she ran through the pros and cons of calling her friend at such a late hour, the empty pro column winning out in the end.

 

 

If she thought she was a sight, standing there on Leona’s front porch, pink fuzzy slippers in hand and an overnight bag slung over her arm, she hadn’t properly imagined Leona.

The Leona she knew wore fitted suits and stylish heels, sported a flawlessly made-up face, and always touted whatever purse was all the rage at the moment. The Leona standing in front of her now was, well, different.

As in, night and day different.

She tried not to gawk, she really did, but, if the exasperated glint in Leona’s eyes was any indication, she was hugely unsuccessful.

“Is there a problem, dear?” Leona said as her unpolished fingers settled on her fuzzy pink hips. “I mean, beyond the fact that you woke me from a peaceful slumber and hoodwinked me into inviting you over?”

Her mouth gaped open. “Hoodwinked?”

“Would you prefer coerced? Or, perhaps, strong-armed?”

“Leona, I just called to talk. If you’d told me you were tired, I’d have simply called back tomorrow.”

“And what kind of friend would that have made me? I’ve already been unfairly branded in that regard.” Leona jutted her chin into the air and then spun around. “Follow me, I’ve moved Paris and her babies into my room and made the guest bed up for you. Do you like cookies and milk before bed or do you prefer tea?”

She closed her mouth only to let it flap back open. “Y-you made cookies?”

Leona rolled her eyes. “Good heavens, Victoria, no. I bought them this afternoon. Paris likes a nibble before bed and I wanted to make sure she had nothing but the best after her very busy weekend.”

Shaking her head free of any lingering shock, Tori forced herself to get it together. “How is our little Ms. Paris doing this evening?”

“Well, thank you. Although I imagine having all those babies hanging all over her would be draining.”

No pun intended.

To Leona she simply nodded. “And the babies? How are they?”

The left corner of Leona’s mouth twitched ever so slightly. “They’re marvelous. So very, very sweet.”

She followed Leona into the master bedroom and peeked into the cushioned box that had been created for the new family. “Oh, Leona, they’re even cuter now than they were at the cabin.”

Leona beamed. “Would you really expect anything less from my little Paris?”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Now that we know Paris is a girl, no.”

Leona kneeled beside the box and reached her hand inside, her fingers taking a moment to stroke the head of each and every baby before lingering on Paris. “I’ve been on the computer all evening learning everything I can about baby bunnies. Did you know that they can start eating carrots when they’re just eight days old? And they can be weaned from Paris by the time they’re just two weeks old?”

It was a charge to watch Leona taking such an interest in the care and nurture of these unexpected additions to her family and Tori said as much out loud.

“What do you expect me to do?” Leona accused. “Cower in the corner with my hands over my ears begging for someone to ride to my rescue?”

Cower wouldn’t necessarily have been Tori’s choice of words, a fact she opted to keep to herself. Instead, she squatted down beside her friend and lifted the white and gray spotted baby from the box, instinctively drawing it to her chest for extra warmth. “I think your offer to let Rose have this one was very special. It meant a lot to her.”

Leona waved her words aside. “I have my moments, I suppose.”

She met her friend’s gaze and held it for a beat. “You have many, Leona. You really do. It’s why I’m here, I guess.”

Reaching across the box, Leona extracted Patches from Tori’s arms and set her beside a nose-twitching Paris. “What has you so upset, dear?”

And, just like that, the reality of her evening yanked her back to a place that was a little less warm, a little less sweet. “Can we talk in another room? I don’t want to keep Paris up.”

Leona nodded and stood, blowing a kiss at the rabbits as she did. “I think that’s a good idea. Childbirth can be fatiguing.”

Tori bit back the urge to make a joke, a joke she’d have thought nothing of making before learning of Leona’s painful past. Instead, she followed her friend out into the kitchen and claimed a spot with her back to the plateglass window that overlooked Leona’s French patio.

“Have you talked to your sister this evening?” She leaned back in her chair and allowed Leona to plunk down a plate of Debbie’s chocolate chip cookies and a lone glass of milk. “Are you going to have some?”

Leona pivoted on her footy pajamas and reached into the cabinet above the sink, extracting a wine goblet. “I need something more soothing. Becoming a grandmother has a way of unsettling your nerves.”

She laughed. “I can only imagine.”

With quiet consideration, Leona selected her wine and poured it into her glass before taking a seat across the table from Tori. “So tell me, what brings you by at”—the woman peered up at the clock anchored just above the sink—“such an undignified hour?”

Gripping her glass to her chest, she met Leona’s questioning eyes. “Thanks to your great-niece, I think I know who started the fire in my office.”

“My great-niece?”

“Lulu.”

Leona rolled her eyes. “Victoria, dear, I know you think the world of that little girl and it’s sweet, really. But to credit her for solving crimes? Isn’t that a bit over the top?”

“No.” She released her glass and reached for the plate of cookies. “She identified the suspect in a picture and was able to describe the kind of actions that make it virtually certain.”

Tipping her head downward, Leona stared at her over top of her glasses. “Suspect? Suspect? Have I not tried to teach you to act more ladylike? To leave the cops and robbers routine to the proper authorities?”

It was Tori’s turn to roll her eyes. “In the past two years, anytime I’ve gotten involved is when those proper authorities of which you speak weren’t doing their job in the way that they should. I found my efforts a better choice than sitting back, watching people I care about getting railroaded for things they didn’t do.”

Leona lifted her wineglass to her lips and took a sip. “And now, dear?”

“The fire just happened. The investigation is brand-new. But when someone sits right next to you and points a reliable finger toward the answer we’re seeking, it’s hard to turn and look the other way.”

“A reliable finger? Isn’t that overstating things just a little? Lulu is only, what? Ten?”

She paused, a larger piece of cookie just outside her lips. “She pointed at a picture of Kelly.”

“And Robert is supposed to just throw this woman in jail on account of a ten-year-old?” Leona took another sip of her wine, closing her eyes as it slid down her throat. “My condolences to Kelly.” Opening her eyes, Leona sat up tall. “Did you say, Kelly? As in the Kelly who was dating that weasel of a man you were once engaged to?”

She lifted a cookie from the plate and toasted it against the side of Leona’s wineglass. “One and the same.”

Leona’s brows furrowed. “A fire. Hmmm. I wonder why that never crossed my mind with Emmett.”

“Hey! That’s not funny.” Tori set the cookie on the table in front of her and stared down at it. “First of all, I wasn’t going after her boyfriend. Second of all, she could have
killed
someone.”

“You may not have been going after her boyfriend but her boyfriend was certainly going after you.” Leona pushed her wineglass into the center of the table and helped herself to the smallest cookie on the plate. Staring at it as if it were a foreign object rather than a staple in many homes, she shrugged. “Jealousy is certainly a powerful motive.”

“Exactly.”

Leona cocked her head to the side and studied Tori closely. “Where is this woman now?”

“I don’t know. Chicago, I imagine. I don’t think she expected Jeff’s body to be detained the way it has.”

“Did you know that
betrayal
is a popular motive for committing a crime as well?”

She nibbled back the urge to laugh. “You better be careful, Leona Elkin, you just might start saying a word like
suspect
all on your own.”

“The only reason I know about motive is from that detective show on the Uniform Network,” Leona explained.

“Uniform
Network?”

Leona grinned. “Men in uniforms twenty-four/seven.”

It felt good to laugh, to release some of the tension that had been weighing her down in waves for weeks now. “I didn’t betray anyone.”

“You might not have, dear, but Jeff certainly did.”

She wished she could object, but she couldn’t. Leona’s comment simply shored up a possibility that had been nagging at her heart since Lulu was able to put Kelly at the scene of the fire. “I can sort of see why she may have been jealous about Jeff seeking me out when they were supposed to be involved. I can even see why she might do something stupid like lash out at me. But to kill Jeff? Wouldn’t that kind of defeat the purpose?”

“Only if they were still dating, dear. Which, after the way that man spoke to her while standing on your front porch, is highly doubtful.”

Leona’s comment brought her up short. Had Kelly given Jeff the old heave-ho? Or had Jeff done the deed, prompting her to lash out in tragic fashion?

It could certainly fit.

Plus it would eliminate that irrational fear that kept bobbing up and down in her psyche. A fear that stemmed from knowing Milo had been in town the day Jeff died.