Hidden Summit (13 page)

“I have my moments,” he said, lifting his beer to his lips.

Yeah, but I don’t think now is one of those moments,
Jack thought.

Leslie answered the phone on her desk. “Haggerty Construction, Leslie speaking.”

“Leslie, it’s Greg. We need to talk.”

She took a deep breath. “Has there been a death in the family?” she asked crisply.

“No! Of course not!”

“Have you decided to give me a big pot of the money you hid while we were divorcing?”

“No! I mean, I didn’t—”

“Then we don’t have anything to talk about.”

“Leslie! Wait! Listen, I’ve been visiting with your parents!”

She was struck silent for a moment. “Whatever for?”

“I’ve been checking on them and keeping tabs on you. They tell me you’re seeing someone now. We better talk about that.”

“All right, now listen,” she said sternly. “Who I might be dating is none of your business and I don’t want you pestering my parents. They don’t
like
you!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “They’re very nice to me!”

“They’re nice people! You better leave them alone or…or…or I’ll sic Paul on you.”

“Watch that temper, Leslie! There’s no reason to be so defiant, just listen to me a second. I’m here. I’m in Virgin River at that little bar in town and I’m not leaving until you meet me. I thought a public place might suit you better, make you feel less threatened....”

“Make
me
feel less threatened?” She laughed out loud. “Bullshit, Greg! You think I won’t hurt you in a public place? But you wasted your time. I’m not meeting you. We have nothing to talk about.”

“If you don’t, I’ll find out where you live and come to your house. Seriously, I’m not leaving without seeing you. We have to discuss this man you’re—”

She disconnected the cordless. “Goddamn it,” she muttered. And she wondered how she’d been married to him for so long without realizing what an idiotic pain in the ass he was. She briefly wondered if he had slipped drugs into her tea throughout their marriage.

She did not want to see him, talk to him. She was a little bit afraid that if she
didn’t
go to Jack’s, Greg was just going to make her life here so much more complicated. She did not want him to upset her relationship with Conner. She was truly happy for the first time in so long. She banged the phone on the top of her desk several times and swore.

Paul was quickly standing in her doorway. “Problem?”

She grabbed her purse and keys. “I have to run out, Paul.” She looked at her watch. “It’s late—I’m not going to make it back here today. I’ll come in early tomorrow....”

“You don’t have to come in early. Something wrong?”

“That man is getting on my last nerve,” she said.

“Conner?”

“God, no. Conner is a gem. Conner is perfect. Greg Adams.”

“What’s he doing now?”

“Waiting for me at Jack’s. Apparently my parents told him I’m seeing someone and he wants to discuss it with me.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have the first idea, but he’s threatening to wait me out or even show up at my house. I better get over there before Jack’s fills up with people and there’s an audience.”

Paul stepped aside so she could pass. “Want me to go with you?”

“Don’t be silly, Paul. I can take him.”

If Jack’s had been an old Western saloon and Leslie had been wearing six-guns on her hips, her entrance would have blended perfectly. She blew in, loaded for bear. By the time she arrived, there were a couple of men at a table by a window sharing a pitcher, but thankfully that was all. Within a half hour, the dinner crowd would begin to arrive.

Greg turned to see her enter. He smiled. She scowled and walked up to the bar, but she didn’t sit down.

“Drink, Les?” Jack asked.

“No. Greg, I don’t want to discuss anything with you unless you’re here to give me a big check. I want you to go home. And I want you to leave my parents and me
alone.
”

“Leslie, Leslie… Honey, I know this transition is difficult—”

“Don’t call me
honey!
It is not a transition and it is not difficult. It’s a divorce and I’ve discovered it’s the best thing that ever happened to me. Now, listen to me,
please.
We’re done. We’re over. You left me! You have a pregnant wife in Grants Pass. You—”

“Pregnant wife?” Jack repeated. Jack being Jack, he wasn’t far from the conversation.

“Don’t you have something to do?” Greg asked him.

“No,” Jack said. “Buddy, you gotta let go....”

“You don’t understand,” Greg said to Jack. He turned to Leslie. “This doesn’t have to be so adversarial, Leslie. I only want to help because I care about you. I just thought maybe we should talk about this guy you’re seeing because, well…” He reached for her hand, and she snatched it away. “Okay, well, this may be hard to hear, but you’re on the rebound. People can make serious mistakes on the rebound.”

“I. Am. Not.”

“It’s not the length of time that’s the deciding factor, Leslie,” he said. “It’s really about the emotional investment. And believe me, I know how hard our divorce was for you.”

“It’s not hard anymore. I feel like you did me a monumental favor. Now go.”

“Just tell me who he is, Leslie. Tell me about him. I don’t want to worry about you.”

“You lost that privilege, Greg. I no longer discuss my personal business with you.”

He shook his head. “Your bitterness speaks for itself. There must be something about this guy that worries you or you wouldn’t be so defensive.”

“There’s something about
you
that worries me. If you come down here one more time I’m going to call Allison and suggest she have you committed.”

“Seriously,” Jack said. “I’m a little worried about you, too, buddy. You got a bun in the oven up there and you’re still hanging around here, bothering the ex?”

Greg turned sharply toward Jack. “Can you go find something to do?”

Jack shrugged. “I could, but this is fascinating. And it’s my bar.” Then he smiled.

Greg sighed in frustration. He turned back to Leslie. “Let’s get right to it.”

She rested an elbow on the bar and let her head drop into her hand. She groaned. She swore under her breath.

“The fact is, whether you realize it or not, you’ve had a blow to your self-esteem, and you’re in no condition to get involved with some guy you don’t really know. I knew when I made the hard choice to leave that I would have to be prepared to help see you through it, and I will, Leslie. Because I care about you. Because even though I don’t love you as my wife, I love you as my best friend and always will.”

“I am
not
your best friend. I am not even your casual friend. And my self-esteem has never been healthier.”

“And so even though it’s reasonable for you to be in denial, I know that losing me destroyed you. It was like hitting bottom for you and I don’t want you to reach out to a man who isn’t good for you. Not when I’m prepared to help you through the crisis. We both know you’ve never had a strong self-image, that you’ve always struggled with your perception of yourself. All I want to do is help. You have more potential than you realize, Leslie. Let me help.”

She stared at him in dumb wonder for a minute. The irony was—not only did
he
believe this to be true, there was a time it actually had been. His leaving
had
shattered her. Every time she’d seen him with the new pretty, smart, accomplished young woman, it had hurt. He thought he was God’s gift to women, and if he left his wife, she must be devastated.

Oh, how it pissed her off that she had been!

She turned her back on him and stomped away, charging through the swinging door to the kitchen. Preacher looked up from the stove and lifted his eyebrows, wondering what she was doing there.

She looked around. Then she saw it. The fire extinguisher was mounted on the wall in the kitchen by the back door. She rushed to it, snatched it off the brackets that held it and made for the bar.

If Jack hadn’t been following her to see what the devil she was up to, he might not have been in time. He was right near the door as she came back through; she was freeing the hose and positioning her hands on the handle. She was aiming. Preacher was right behind her, but not fast enough.

“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” Jack said, circling her waist with one arm and lifting her clear of the floor. “Hold on there!”

“Did you hear what he said to me?” she ground out angrily. “That his leaving destroyed me? That I now have no self-esteem because he left me?”

“Yeah, I couldn’t miss that. He’s an idiot. I’ll throw him out for you,” Jack said.

“No! This is the only thing he understands!”

“Aw, Les, it’s so messy....”

“It’s not as messy as me killing him!”

Jack smirked. He stole a look at Greg, who was backing away a little nervously, unknowingly making himself a better target.

“You have to help clean up the mess,” Jack said to Leslie.

“Certainly,” she said.

“All right, then.” He let her go.

She ran around the bar and fired. This time there was no warning, no countdown, no compassion. She hit him square in the chest, face, arms, legs and in the back as he ran away, yelling.

“You are an insane fucking bitch!” he screamed, looking a little like a snowman as he ran into the street.

Leslie turned back to the bar. Laughing.

“It wasn’t that messy,” she said. “I got most of it on him. I’ll have that drink now.”

Jack served her up her preferred Merlot and handed her a rag from behind the bar. “He seems to have forgotten his sports coat.”

“Church rummage sale,” she said, lifting it with one finger and handing it over the bar to Jack. She propped the fire extinguisher on the bar stool beside her, as if it was her date. “I don’t think he’ll be back for it. Too bad they’ll never get what it’s worth. I’m sure it’s expensive.”

She turned toward the door just in time to see Conner and Paul enter the bar together, no doubt having seen Greg. She lifted her drink toward them in a little toast.

“She did it again,” Paul said to Conner.

“That’s my girl,” Conner said to Paul.

Eleven

L
eslie hated to sacrifice time with Conner, but she couldn’t wait to get home and call her mother. She asked him to give her an hour, then if he wanted to see her later, the price of admission was takeout from the bar.

“Why didn’t you tell me Greg’s been pestering you?” she said when she got her mom on the phone.

“Oh, I thought I mentioned…” Candace said.

“I knew he called or something to ask where I’d gone when he couldn’t find me in Grants Pass, but I had no idea he’d continued bothering you.”

“Well, I knew it wasn’t your doing, Leslie. I didn’t want you to worry about it. And I thought I finally got rid of him.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“Oh, really since you moved,” she said. “At first I thought he was only stopping by because he wanted to know where you’d gone, but then when he kept it up after he finally knew where you were, I was a little confused. I finally told him, in a nice way, that he just couldn’t drop in on us anymore. I said it was a requirement that he call ahead. In which case I always said we were just on our way out. But the doofus just kept calling.”

“What is up with him?” Leslie asked.

“Well, at first he said he didn’t want his relationship with us to be lost just because the marriage was over, but I knew that wasn’t true. The conversation always came around to you very quickly. He wanted to know how you were. So I told him you had never been better, that you were seeing a wonderful man and were so happy.”

“When did you do that?”

“Just last week,” Candace said. “Why?”

“He came down here to Virgin River. Again!”

“What on earth…”

“He wanted the details about this man I’m seeing. He wanted to help me through the rebound crisis because he’s certain I’m devastated over losing him.”

Candace laughed into the phone.

“What’s funny?” Leslie asked.

“He has such a high opinion of himself, that’s what’s funny. How’d you get rid of him?”

“I shot him with the fire extinguisher. This time I got him good.”

“That’s getting to be quite a habit, isn’t it, sweetheart? I just had the scariest thought—you might be getting more like your parents....”

She sighed. “That wouldn’t be all bad, especially if I could have as much fun as you do. I’m going to get a fire extinguisher for the house. You know, if I weren’t afraid of the message it might send to Greg, I’d call Allison and ask her if she can keep him home.”

“Hmm. Maybe the new marriage isn’t working out so well—have you thought of that? He has far too much time on his hands.”

“Oh, please be wrong,” she said. “I need him to be happily married and not my problem.”

“There was a time such a thought—that his marriage was on the rocks—would have filled you with joy,” Candace reminded her.

“Well, I’ve discovered something very important over the past couple of months. The only thing worse than feeling rejected and devastated is feeling like a damn fool.”

The second week in May, Conner received a message from Brie to give her a call when he had a minute. She told him she had information for him and to come to her house around six in the evening, by which time she expected to be done working for the day. To kill time, he went to Jack’s for a beer.

If Conner had any fantasy of flying under the radar in Virgin River, it was gone by now. He was made as the man in Leslie’s life. It only took one bartender, one cook, a couple of local guys sharing a pitcher and one general contractor whose loose lips had the story all over town. Within a week of Greg’s visit and the fire extinguisher dousing in the bar, it was a legend. Virgin River, he realized, loved a good story. They had plenty of them, too. There wasn’t a lot of entertainment in town besides those stories, and they lapped them up.

“Small town,” Jack said. “We live for stuff like that.”

“And the latest story on me?” Conner probed.

“Nothing all that interesting. Just that you’re gonna have to get Leslie away from her ex-husband to have her.” And then Jack grinned.

Conner eyeballed him for a moment while he considered the grim truth—that he had much more interesting facts still under wraps. “You people,” he said, shaking his head, “need to get a life.”

“This is the life, man. As a rule we like as little excitement as possible.”

Conner could relate to that.

“Where is the little lady tonight?” Jack asked.

“I believe tonight is yoga night,” Conner said.

“And what do you do on yoga night?”

“A little computer time and early to bed. Being gossiped about is very tiring.”

Jack laughed. “I guess you’re not as tough as you look.”

Conner went from the bar to Brie’s house. She’d said he was to come to her front door at six, not her law office door which was an addition to the side of the house. When she let him in, he was struck by how much she reminded him of his sister. Brie was tiny in her snug jeans and bare feet. Her sleeves were rolled up, and she had a child’s cup in her hand. Her hair was loose and long, and she looked so much younger than she was. If he was correct, she was over thirty-five.

“Come in,” she said. “I’m giving Ness her dinner.”

He followed her to the kitchen. He watched her pull a bowl of mac and cheese from the microwave and blow on it. Ness was seated at the small kitchen table on a booster chair, squealing and reaching for her dinner. “All right, all right, hang on to your britches,” Brie said, putting the bowl in front of her. She filled the cup with milk and put it on the table, then leaned against the kitchen counter and let out a breath.

He chuckled and shook his head. “It’s sure hard to picture you kicking butt in a courtroom,” he said.

“She was terrifying, too,” Mike Valenzuela said as he came into the kitchen. He didn’t look like a cop in his denim shirt, jeans and boots. But then as Conner had learned, he didn’t want to. He rarely carried a sidearm, though he kept a rifle in the rack in his truck. “Can I get you something to drink?” he asked, opening the refrigerator.

“No, thanks. What’s up?”

“Couple of things,” Brie said. “First of all, they’ll be starting jury selection soon—looks like they’re running close to the time frame Max suggested. I bet you’ll be called by late May. Possibly sooner. That should come as good news. And this was forwarded to you from the D.A.’s office to me.” She handed him a white envelope.

He looked at the handwriting and return address and handed it back to her. “This is my ex-wife. I’ve gotten letters before. I don’t read them.”

“Read this one, please,” Brie said. “We’d like to know how she knew to send it to the D.A.’s office, if she mentions that.”

He pressed it on her. “Go ahead, knock yourself out. Read it.”

“It could be personal, Conner,” she said as she took the envelope with reluctance.

Of course the D.A. knew the story even if Brie didn’t. “No, it couldn’t be. We’ve been divorced almost two years and we divorced because she had a problem with sex, as in she had a great deal more of it than I did. With many, many partners.”

“Oh,” Brie said. “Sorry.”

“So go ahead. It’s probably one of those amends letters—there were quite a few before the fire, before the murder in my back alley.”

“Amends?” Brie asked as she ripped open the envelope. “I take that to mean…?”

“Some kind of program,” he answered. “A very long, expensive program. My parting gift to the lady.”

“Wow,” Brie said under her breath, unfolding a long letter. “Wow,” she said again, taking in the neat, close, tightly constructed and lengthy penned letter—three pages, both sides. It was written so densely. Obsessively. “This could take a while.”

“Take as long as you like, it’s all yours.”

“You’re not wondering how she tracked you down to Max? The D.A.’s office?”

“Not really. She was a smart woman. About most things.”

Brie scanned the first page. “Well, we’re in luck—it’s up front. After she heard about the killing and your store being burned down she decided to take a chance and see if the D.A.’s office might know where you could be. She’s very worried about you and hopes you’re all right.”

“That’s Samantha,” he said. “She was worried about me before all this happened, too. She wants dialogue—it’s not going to happen.”

“Maybe she wants to be forgiven,” Brie suggested.

“That, too, so I told her that I forgave her, but that we weren’t going to have a relationship. It just isn’t a good idea, not for either one of us. I wish she’d quit writing me letters.”

Brie scanned some more. “She says she’s been straight for a long time and that she’s sorry and that she misses you.”

“Hmm,” he said. “Good for her. That she’s fixed, I mean. So, there are a couple of things I need to talk to you about. First of all, when do you think I’ll be asked to go to Sacramento?”

“A few weeks, I think. Give or take.”

Ness tried to get her cup of milk, just out of her reach, and Conner automatically slid it closer to her. “There you go, honey,” he said. “That’s good, isn’t it?” he asked her gently. Then he straightened and looked at Brie. He was glad they were all in the kitchen together with Ness eating her dinner. That alone would probably keep Brie from having a little hissy fit.

“Before I testify, I’m going to see my sister,” he said. “I’ll drive to San Francisco, leave the truck in the long-term lot and fly to Vermont. I haven’t asked her if I can visit yet, but I’m sure she’ll be happy to see me. We’re very close. I’m close to the kids.”

“Not recommended,” Brie said, shaking her head.

“I wasn’t asking for a recommendation,” Conner said. “I don’t know what you know about me, Brie, so let me fill in some gaps. Our parents died when we were young—both of them were gone when Katie was twenty and I was twenty-three. We took over a family business we didn’t know how to run, and although she thought she was all grown-up by then, I had to be a parent to her. She married a great man, Charlie, when she was twenty-six—he was like a brother to me. Less than a year later, a couple of months before Katie’s twin boys were born, he was killed in Afghanistan. That was five years ago. I took care of her and my nephews right up to the day the D.A. sent her in one direction and me in another.

“Now I talk to Katie every day, and guess where we are? She likes where she is. There’s someone she’s starting to care about there. She’s talking about staying there. She thinks she and the boys might have a future there. She was kind of hoping I’d end up there, near them. But what do you suppose happened? After all these years, after all the crap, I find myself wanting to give a little more time to the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Conner, look, I’m totally sympathetic, but—”

“I don’t know what your concept of family is, Brie, but Katie and I and the boys are tight. We’ve always known we might not live in the same town all our lives—hell, she was married to a military man. She was going to be moving around as an army wife—I can live with that. We can make do on visits. But like I said, we’re tight. The boys don’t get why they haven’t seen Uncle Danny—that’s how they’ve always known me. And before I testify, before I put my life on the line or make another major change in my life, I’m going to do two important things. I’m going to tell Leslie what I’m up against and that I’ll come back here after the trial if she thinks she can handle that. And I’m going to go see my sister to be sure she and the boys are all right. And that they’ll be safe and happy if they stay there.”

Brie looked down. She slapped the effusive blue-inked letter against her thigh. She looked up at him. “Now look—”

“Brie,” Mike said. He didn’t say it loudly or sternly, he just said her name and she looked at him. He lifted his cola can, and on the way to his lips, he gestured toward Conner.

“There are risks. No matter what I do. That son of a bitch could have me capped as I’m walking up the courthouse steps. In fact, that’s the only thing that makes sense. And I bet he’d still get convicted.”

Mike gave a shrug that was nearly a nod.

“I’ll keep the new name, all the new ID, and if the D.A.’s office will help, I’ll sell everything and start over. I’d be willing to sell it all, but it probably makes more sense to put it all in crated storage in Sacramento until we have a destination. The houses…?” Conner shrugged. “We’ll have to sell them. We know we’re not going to live in Sacramento again. Not after what happened there. I’ll pay for the truck I’m using or get a new one, whatever. Katie’s share will give her a fresh start. But that’s it, that’s all I’m doing. I’m not going to run for the rest of my life. If Regis Mathis doesn’t get me before I can help lock him up for life, I find it hard to believe he’s going to go to too much trouble and expense to scour the entire frickin’ United States for me or Katie. Not just for revenge. His money would be better spent on lawyers for his appeal.”

“Think about this,” she said. “Please.”

“Thought about it. I’ve seen you with your brother, your husband, your daughter. There’s no way you’d do what I’m doing. You’d have Mike wearing his pistol to bed every night before you’d go through this.”

“I’m not sure how Max is going to take this,” she said.