The Secrets She Kept (13 page)

Besides, he was curious about her date.

“Nancy! Great to see you again.”

Sure enough, he detected no surprise in her expression when she looked up. She gave him a polite half smile. “Good to see you, too, Keith.”

He glanced expectantly at her date, but she didn’t speak up so he introduced Harper. “You might know our chief of police.”

“Of course. She’s been to the shop.” Nancy shifted her attention to Harper. “Thanks for all you do.”

Harper acknowledged her gratitude with a nod. “You bet.”

Nancy seemed perfectly willing to let them move on without mentioning
her
companion, so Keith turned to him. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you around the island.”

“I don’t live here.” Tom stood and offered his hand. “I’m Thomas Humphries, an attorney from Charleston.”

“What kind of law do you practice?” Keith asked as they shook.

“Personal injury.”

“You must get involved in a lot of...intriguing cases.” Truth was Keith had zero
interest in that, but he figured everyone was different.

“I do. And business is booming.”

Tom obviously took pride in his accomplishments. “There are a lot of people getting hurt in Charleston who have reason to sue?” Keith asked.

He’d been joking, but Tom didn’t seem to catch on. Or maybe he had. There was a hint of defensiveness in his posture when he replied. “Probably no more than any other big city, but I’ve established a name in the business. I work mostly off referrals.”

“Referrals are always nice,” Keith said. “Advertising can get expensive.” He didn’t mention ambulance-chasing and the other tactics some personal injury attorneys employed.

“Yes.” Tom glanced uncertainly at Nancy, since she hadn’t provided Keith’s name or any point of reference. “And you are...”

Once it became plain that she couldn’t avoid it, Nancy spoke up. “This is Keith Lazarow, Tom—my boss’s son.”

Tom’s eyes widened. “The one who...” He stopped and finished with, “Whoa, I’m sorry about your mother. Losing a parent is always rough.”

Keith could’ve pointed out that his connection with Nancy wasn’t nearly as loose as she’d implied. He could remember one night when they’d made love three or four times in an eight-hour period. But the way she’d clasped her hands tightly in front of her told him she preferred to end this encounter as soon as possible. “You’re right,” he said. “It’s not easy, but it happens to most of us.”

“True.” Tom sat back down. “Still, you have my condolences.”

Keith turned to Nancy. “You look beautiful in that dress.”

“Thank you,” she muttered, but he could tell she immediately discarded the compliment as if it was meaningless coming from him.

“Have a nice dinner,” he said.

Tom responded with something equally banal and the hostess finished leading them to their table.

“You used to date Nancy, didn’t you?” Harper asked after the hostess had provided them with menus and walked away.

“For a few months. Why? Who told you that?”

“I must’ve heard it around town somewhere. But it was also obvious by her body language just now.”

“How?”

“She was visibly uncomfortable.”

“I didn’t notice,” he lied.

As Harper started to open her menu, she paused to give him a skeptical look. “I’m guessing she’s not over you.”

He opened his own menu. “Of course she’s over me. It’s been five years.”

“Time isn’t always a deciding factor.” She perused her food choices. “Did you love her?” she asked, raising her head.

“No. I wasn’t capable of loving anyone back then.” Maybe he still wasn’t. That was why he was trying so hard to stay away from her, why his sister demanded it. He’d hurt Nancy badly enough. He didn’t want to hurt her again.

* * *

Nancy couldn’t taste her food—and yet she’d ordered the Cajun blackened shrimp scampi, which was spicy. She no longer had an appetite, anyway. She wished she could ask Bobby to box up her dinner so she could get out of the restaurant and escape the attraction that kept drawing her gaze to Keith. The way the hostess had seated them, she and Keith were facing each other. Every time she glanced up, their eyes would meet. She’d pretend it was inadvertent, as if she hadn’t intended to look at him, but her face would heat, and she was afraid he could see that.

“You seem sort of distracted tonight,” Tom complained after the waitress delivered their cherries jubilee.

“I’m sorry. It’s...all the stress I’ve been under at work,” she said. But it was a lot more than that. Seeing Keith with the pretty chief of police made her nauseous, although she had to admit they were a magnificent-looking couple. Maybe Harper Underwood had what it took to hold him. Harper was a confident, bold, take-charge kind of person. She was also thinner than Nancy.

“I brought you here so you could unwind,” Tom said.

She could feel Keith’s eyes on her again but kept her gaze riveted on her own date. “I’m trying.”

“It might’ve been better to stay in tonight.”

“No. This has been great,” she lied.

Covering her hand with his, Tom leaned close. “I’m glad. Should we go back to your place and watch a movie, then?”

Under the guise of reaching for her drink, she slid her hand away. “I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

She fumbled around for an excuse. She could hardly say that the only man she’d ever loved was sitting across the restaurant, reminding her of what it felt like to
really
want someone. “I...need a good night’s sleep.”

He scowled at her. “So I drove all the way to Fairham Island just to buy you dinner?”

She could understand why he’d be put off and felt bad for disappointing him. That hadn’t been her intention. She’d just purchased some sexy lingerie, for crying out loud. If that didn’t indicate that she’d hoped for more, she wasn’t sure what would. They just hadn’t been able to establish any kind of rapport or chemistry. And maybe that was her fault, because her stubborn heart would not forget Keith.

Either way, the confusion she’d been experiencing lately had cleared, leaving her with the sad realization that she couldn’t continue to see Tom. She wasn’t sexually attracted to him. She’d rather remain single for the rest of her life than try to make something out of nothing. “I’m sorry. This place is expensive. I’ll pay.”

Bobby had slid the leather case containing the bill onto the table shortly after bringing their desserts. Nancy reached for it, but Tom grabbed it first.

“No, I didn’t mean that. I understand if you’re a little out of sorts. Everyone gets that way once in a while. Why not let me come over and give you a backrub? I bet that’ll help.”

His earlier comment went through her mind—
Going out with me isn’t a promise to marry me or even sleep with me, although I wouldn’t mind that
—and knew he’d been making himself sound more patient than he really was. She shook her head. “No, thanks. I think I’ll stop by my father’s house, check in on him since my sister went out tonight.”

He put the bill holder back down. “
What?
He lives here, doesn’t he? You can see him anytime.”

“True. But... I’m sorry, Tom. It’s just not going to work out between us.”

“We talked about this on the phone. You haven’t given it a fair shot.”

“I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

Shaking his head, as if he couldn’t believe she’d be so stupid as to turn away such a fine catch, he sighed. Then he made his reaction worse by adding, “You have no idea what you’re missing.”

“You’re probably right,” she agreed. “You’re a
great
guy and...and no doubt you’ll make some other girl very happy.”

He glared at her without responding. Then he let her pay the bill.

* * *

When Nancy and her date got up, Keith lifted his hand to wave, in case she glanced over. She didn’t, but he did get a better view of her in that dress. She looked stunning, whether she believed him or not.

When Harper noticed his preoccupation, she twisted around to watch Nancy go. Then she said, “I take it your relationship with Nancy didn’t end well.”

“Nothing I did five years ago ended well,” he said drily.

“Whoa!
You’re
taking the blame?”

He’d been in a terrible situation long enough that almost everyone else had given up on him. Nancy was the only one who’d been willing to listen, to try to help. She gave him a place of refuge, cooked for him, washed his clothes, lent him money and encouraged him to get off drugs. “Completely.”

Harper held her wineglass loosely. “You’re more honest than I was expecting.”

“That doesn’t say much for what you were expecting. Are you still concerned about my reputation?”

She put down her wine and took a bite of her sole. “No. Just thankful that you’ve reformed.”

He’d ordered crab legs. He held the seafood cracker in one hand as he responded. “Because...”

She offered him a flirty smile. “Because if someone like Nancy can’t get over you, you must be more than just another pretty face.”

“Nancy’s a nice person. I feel bad about...about how I behaved with her.” He was tempted to explain that he hadn’t hurt her intentionally, but he figured that was a moot point.

“If there’s no magic in a relationship, there’s no magic. You can’t fake it.”

He supposed that was true. He felt that way about Dahlia back in LA. But Nancy was different. He respected her. He cared about her, too—enough that he’d shown up at her door last night and felt a strange sort of envy when he’d seen her with another man tonight. Why? He rarely thought of any of his other old girlfriends. Was it simply that he hadn’t treated Nancy the way she deserved to be treated—and he regretted it? Or was it a desire to reconnect with the one person who was most comfortable and familiar to him while he was going through this difficult time?

He chose not to answer those questions, preferred not to examine his feelings for Nancy too closely. “That’s true,” he told Harper. “There’s no forcing those things. So maybe we can talk about something else—like who might’ve killed my mother...”

She gave him a look that said she found his reluctance to talk about Nancy sort of curious. But she didn’t push the issue. “Have we established that your mother’s been murdered?”

“There
was
that intruder.”

“The entire island had heard of your mother’s passing. With her gone, and the family plunged into grief and confusion, perhaps some opportunistic and unprincipled person decided it would be a fine time to break in.”

“Except they didn’t take anything.”

Her fork clinked against her plate as she set it down and wiped her mouth. “They didn’t expect to find you home. When I got there, the place was dark, and your rental car wasn’t in the drive.”

“There’s no need to park in the drive when you have an abundance of garage stalls.” Especially now that he’d put a garage door opener in his rental.

“That’s my point. There was nothing obvious to show you were home.”

“From the front. I fell asleep with my light on, so there was definitely something at the back of the house.”

“People often leave lights on, even when they’re not home.”

“So you believe it was an attempted burglary.”

“I’m saying it
could’ve
been.”

“It could also have been the person who murdered my mother returning to the scene. That happens, too, doesn’t it? At least it does in the movies.”

She chuckled. “Yes, it’s possible.
If
your mother was murdered. I’m keeping an open mind.”

“Really! That’s a positive change,” he teased.

“From what I hear not many people are capable of opposing you,” she joked back.

“Somehow I doubt
you
have that problem.” He dipped his crab in the warm butter and offered her a bite, which she took.

“Thank you,” she said. “Anyway, just to be clear, I’m still leaning toward suicide. There’s more evidence to support that than anything else.”

“You mean like the fact that her bags were packed?
That
evidence?”

“I mean that the ferry captain doesn’t recall seeing anyone who looked suspicious either coming or going on the night of your mother’s death.”

“That doesn’t mean there wasn’t someone. Maybe the ferry captain was preoccupied. Maybe whoever it was didn’t stand out. Or the culprit lives on the island.”

“True. That’s why I’m not
completely
convinced. Just taking the measure of it all. It’ll be interesting to see what they find at the autopsy on Sunday.”

“Who told you we scheduled it for Sunday?” Although he’d been planning to get to that, they hadn’t spoken of it yet. “Did Dr. Pendergast call you?”

She wiped her mouth again. “No. I ran into Maisey earlier at the grocery store. I’m sorry you felt you had to get involved. Because the coroner doesn’t have an ‘agenda.’ We all want the same thing. The truth.”

“I feel more comfortable calling the shots.”

“Obviously,” she said, and he could tell she was suppressing a smile.

He scowled at her. “Why do I get the impression you’re laughing at me?”

“I’m not
laughing
. You have to be in charge, and that’s fine. Obviously, that’s your approach to life—which isn’t too different from the way your mother handled things. So I can see where it comes from. Anyway, I’m hoping Dr. Pendergast will be able to tell us more. Regardless, I’ll keep digging. See what I can come up with. My tech is still going through your mother’s computer.”

“I can’t imagine he’ll find anything there.”

“Don’t kid yourself,” she said. “Almost everything is electronic these days—work documents, financial records, even social interactions. She was older so there may be less than there’d be for someone, say, our age. But I’m guessing there’ll still be plenty to tell us what her last few months, weeks, even days were like.”

He mulled over what he’d learned about Landon from Pippa. He knew he should probably say something, but he was so protective of Rocki, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It was much easier to insist that Landon’s visit meant nothing, that he could never have hurt Josephine, so his being on the island had no bearing on any of this.