Chapter 15
Tori stared at her phone a few seconds after Scott hung up. She’d thought of him several times since she arrived at Erin’s, which was about as strange as his call. A memory from the past popped up. Her church was having a Sunday night social, and Scott was new and sitting off by himself.
Nobody would talk to him except Kate Adams—he’d almost been arrested for murder, and then someone had tried to kill him. Tori figured no one knew what to say to Scott—she certainly hadn’t. But he didn’t have any friends, and she felt sorry for him.
She decided to challenge him to a chess game. He’d looked up at her when she approached him with a chess board, and she’d never forget the smile that started with his full lips and then lit up his face. And then he quickly trounced her in six moves.
Goodness, she hadn’t thought about that in years. She pocketed her phone. Tori hadn’t expected to hear from him so soon . . . She wrinkled her nose. The call didn’t pass the smell test. Sure, he said he was checking up on her brother, but why not call Erin or her dad?
Oh, wait . . . the sheriff and Scott had been huddled together when she left the lake.
Of course. The sheriff put him up to calling, figuring if Scott paid attention to her, she’d spill what she knew.
Tori snorted. If he was looking for information she’d gotten from Drew, they both were wasting their time.
Her nephew’s mouth was closed tighter than the vault at Fort Knox .
. . except Scott had sounded genuinely disappointed when she told him to check McKay’s for Zack.
Her brother should be here. They’d spent the last hour discussing options for his son, and the least Zack could do was support him instead of hanging out at the local beer joint.
With that thought, Tori walked down the hall to where the family gathered in Erin’s den.
Drew slouched in a chair, staring at his phone—probably playing some kind of game.
Erin hunched over her computer, and her dad stood by the window, worry lines creasing his forehead.
If she had to guess, this problem with Drew—or her brother, Zack—had put those worry lines there.
Guilt pricked her. If she were honest, she’d probably put a few lines there herself.
Her dad looked much older than the last time she’d seen him and tired .
. . no, weary. Watching him stirred her heart.
It was a lot easier to be angry at him from Knoxville.
Their time together had gone better than she’d expected, maybe because he hadn’t tried to apologize again for something an apology could never change.
Perhaps they could put the past behind them . . . She wished.
Her phone dinged with a text message, and she glanced at it. A group text from a Dark Deeds Unraveled fan club. When another text came in, she muted it and a couple more, her mind on her brother. “Does Zack hang out at McKay’s a lot?”
Drew barely looked up from his phone. “Yeah. Even though he told me he wasn’t going to go there anymore.”
Tori turned to Erin. “Does he need an intervention?”
“You think we haven’t tried that?” her sister snapped.
“I didn’t know.” She tried to not sound defensive.
“Maybe if you came home more often—”
“Come on, girls, don’t argue,” her dad said. “We have enough problems without being at each other’s throats.”
Tori opened her mouth to protest but bit back her angry thoughts. “You’re right.”
Erin nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” She couldn’t believe she agreed with her father. “Tell me about Scott Sinclair.”
“What about him?” Erin eyed her. “Why are you interested in Scott?”
“I’m not interested—more like curious. He was at the lake when I stopped by there.” She probably should tell them about the shooting. No . . . they had enough on their plate tonight.
“Not a lot to tell,” her dad said.
“Yeah, he just showed up at his brother’s place one day around Thanksgiving, recovering from some kind of injury,” Erin added.
“What’s he been doing all these years?”
“That’s the big question that his return stirred, but so far, no one’s answered it.”
“Why is he interested in Zack?”
“Who knows?” Erin focused on her computer screen again.
“I think Scott worked for the Livingstons in their distribution center back when he first came to Logan Point,” her dad said. “Zack would’ve been his boss.”
“He stopped by the house about a month ago,” Drew said. “Talked to Dad a long time, and that night Dad went with him to an AA meeting. I thought . . .”
Tori knew what Drew thought—that his dad was going to stop drinking.
“He did stop for a couple of weeks.” Drew shrugged. “Then something happened at work, and he started back.”
Again, no surprise to Tori.
The front doorbell rang. Frowning, Erin checked her camera feed and jumped up. “Oh my goodness! I forgot the appointment with Richard Livingston and his wife—they want to go over the quote I gave them for a cybersecurity system for the Livingston Oil Corporation.”
She turned to Tori. “Would you let them in and get them settled in the living room while I print the quote and grab the files? I meant to do that last night but this thing with Drew distracted me.”
That was not normal for Erin. Her sister ran her cybersecurity company from home and was the most focused person she knew. “Of course. I didn’t know Richard had remarried.”
Her dad chuckled. “Yeah, about five years ago. Kind of took everyone by surprise—we all figured Eli would be the one standing at the altar with the woman.”
“Eli’s not married?”
“Nope. A couple of close calls, but nothing permanent.”
“Why did everyone think it’d be Eli?”
“Richard’s wife is maybe three, four years older than Eli. Rumors were that’s who she set her cap for when she first hit town, but he wasn’t interested. But Richard and Stephanie seem happy—even have matching Cadillacs.”
She tucked the information away, hating that she was so cynical, but Tori had seen women like that operate. Sharks. She’d always liked Richard back when she dated Eli in her senior year of high school. “So her name is Stephanie?”
Her dad nodded as the bell pealed again. Tori hurried to the door and ushered them in. “It’s so good to see you again, Mr. Livingston.”
He took the hand she offered. “I told you a hundred times, Tori, call me Richard. Only people who owe me money call me Mr. Livingston.”
“Richard, then. You’re looking really fit—you must be hitting the gym regularly.”
“Every day.”
The man had to be in his sixties, but he didn’t look a day past fifty. A golden tan set off his silver hair, and there were remarkably few lines in his face. Tori couldn’t help but wonder if he’d had a face lift and maybe even a tummy tuck?
She turned to his wife, and cynicism raised its ugly head again. The woman was much closer to Tori and Eli’s age than her husband’s. “And you must be Mrs. Livingston.” She extended her hand to her as well. “Or do you prefer Stephanie?”
“No one calls me Mrs. Livingston.” She shook Tori’s hand and gave her a toothy smile that made her eyes crinkle. “Stephanie is fine.”
Tori blinked. She’d been expecting someone more aloof, maybe even condescending given the Livingston wealth. She returned Stephanie’s warm smile. “Erin said to make you comfortable in the living room. She’ll be with you shortly.” Tori led the way to the living room. “Can I get you coffee or tea?”
“Oh, coffee would be wonderful,” Stephanie said.
“None for me,” her husband said at the same time.
“Then none for me, either.”
“It’s no problem.” Tori turned toward the door. “We already have a pot made.”
Stephanie brightened. “Well, if it really is no trouble . . .”
Tori hurried to the kitchen and rummaged for a coffee cup that wasn’t chipped, finally finding a mug that their local potter, Kate Adams, had made.
She looked at the bottom. Yep, there was her KA stamp.
She found a tray and a bowl for creamer and sugar packets.
At the last minute, she grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and poured it into a goblet before hurrying back to the living room.
She wanted a few minutes before Erin joined them to question Richard about Jenny.
Maybe he had insight on why she’d been killed.
And maybe she’d get a little information on his brother, Walter.
She set the coffee on the table beside Stephanie and handed Richard the water.
“You’re a gem,” he said, taking the glass. “I advised my son not to let you get away years ago.”
Heat crawled up Tori’s neck as she sat across from them in a wingback chair, and she wasn’t the only one to flush. Maybe there was something to the rumor that Stephanie had first set her cap for Richard’s son. “How is Eli?”
“I’m still waiting for him to settle down. When I was his age, I’d already started the Livingston Oil Corporation.”
She smiled in answer. Nothing had changed about their strained relationship. Eli had always chafed under his dad’s thumb. No matter what he did, Richard could have done it better and quicker.
“I’m so sorry about Jenny Tremont’s death,” Tori said. “I know it was a blow to you all. She’d worked for you quite a few years.”
He nodded soberly. “That she had. And this nonsense about Drew being involved . . . surely Ben Logan won’t take it any further, but if he does, call me—I know an excellent criminal defense lawyer.”
Criminal defense lawyer. The very words sent a chill through Tori. “Thank you, but hopefully that won’t be necessary. Do you know anyone who had a motive for wanting Jenny dead?”
“I don’t have a clue,” he replied.
Tori turned to his wife. “How about you? Do you have any idea?”
Stephanie pressed her lips together, then sighed. “It might’ve been a jealous wife.”
Tori’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
She dropped her gaze to the coffee cup, then shrugged. “I heard she had a thing for married men.”
“Stephanie, that’s not true,” Richard said. “Jenny was friendly to everyone, married or not. Just because a couple of wives in town got it in their heads that she was after their husbands doesn’t make it so.”
“I’m just repeating what I’ve heard at the salon,” Stephanie said as the door to the living room opened. They all turned as Erin entered the room.
“Sorry I took so long.” She shook hands with Richard and Stephanie. “And thank you for coming here, rather than have me come to your office. With everything going on with Drew, I wanted to stick close to home.”
“Where’s Zack?” Richard asked. “I understand he called in sick this morning, but I thought he’d be here.”
He directed the question to Erin, and Tori waited to see what she would say.
“He seemed to be feeling better when I talked with him midafternoon.”
That was news to Tori—Erin hadn’t mentioned talking with Zack.
Richard raised his eyebrows. “I noticed a pickup like his at McKay’s when we drove by. I thought he’d started going to some AA meetings.”
Everyone in town knew that after his wife died, Zack Mitchell had followed in their father’s footsteps. Erin shot her a look Tori well remembered from their teen years—time to leave. She stood. “It was good to meet you, Stephanie, and to see you again, Richard.”
He stood as well. “Yes, and I hope you’ll stop by my office before you leave town. I’d like to discuss the Huey Prescott case with you.”
She almost corrected him. That case was resolved, and Prescott had been exonerated. It was now a matter of who murdered Richard’s brother. She’d been looking for a delicate way to bring up the subject, and now he’d given her a golden invitation.
“I’d like that very much. How about in the morning?”
“Ten thirty?”
“Perfect.” And when she had him one-on-one, maybe he’d talk more about Jenny Tremont.