Chapter 18 Tom #2
“Then perhaps you should start looking for positions in Miami,” Tom said flatly. “Since you’ll be moving there with your mother anyway.”
Something flickered across Sienna’s face. An expression Tom couldn’t quite read. “We’ll see about that,” she said with a strange smile. “Who knows? I might be married before then and won’t need to work at all.”
Tom stared at his daughter in genuine dismay. “You’re actually happy with that prospect? To spend your entire life depending on other people to support you?”
“I’m not depending on anyone,” Sienna said angrily, as if Tom had physically slapped her. “You owe me. I didn’t ask to be born, and supporting me will be the price my husband pays for having me in his life.”
“How did you become so shallow?” Tom asked, no longer bothering to hide his disgust and disappointment. “This isn’t how I raised you.”
“Whatever, Dad,” Sienna sneered, her mask of civility completely dropped now. “I have to get back to my friends.”
She turned and walked away without another word, leaving Tom staring after her with a heart that felt like it was splintering.
His daughter had become everything he’d hoped she wouldn’t.
She was entitled, manipulative, and completely devoid of the values he’d tried to instill in her.
Sienna was a carbon copy of her mother, complete with Victoria’s venom, superiority, and feeling the world owed her just for being in it.
“Are you all right?” Lucy’s gentle voice came from behind him, and Tom turned to find her watching him with understanding and compassion in her eyes.
The contrast between Lucy’s genuine kindness and his daughter’s calculated cruelty was so stark it took his breath away. How had he ever let this woman slip away from him? How had he been foolish enough to allow his parents to make him choose Victoria when he could have had a life with Lucy?
“Children,” Tom said with a heavy sigh, offering Lucy his arm and trying to shake off the painful encounter. “How would you feel about taking a walk along the beach boardwalk back in Sandpiper Shores? I’m not quite ready for this evening to end.”
“I’d like that very much,” Lucy said, linking her arm through his with a smile that helped ease some of the sting from Sienna’s behavior.
As they walked to Tom’s car, he made a mental note to investigate who might have captured his daughter’s romantic attention.
Sienna’s comment about marriage had been too specific, too confident to be mere wishful thinking.
She clearly had someone particular in mind, and given her track record of poor judgment and manipulative behavior, Tom was concerned about what kind of scheme she might be hatching.
But for now, he pushed thoughts of his disappointing daughter aside and focused on the woman beside him.
Lucy had chosen to spend her evening with him, despite the awkward family drama she’d just witnessed.
She’d been gracious and understanding, showing the kind of class and maturity that made him remember why he’d fallen in love with her in the first place.
The night was far from over, and Tom intended to make the most of every moment he had with the woman who was quickly reminding him what real happiness felt like.
Two hours later, they arrived back at the Sandpiper Inn. Tom walked Lucy to her room door, neither of them quite ready for the evening to end despite the unpleasant encounter with Sienna.
“Thank you again for a wonderful evening,” Lucy said softly, fishing her key card from her purse.
“Thank you for coming with me,” Tom replied. “I’ve been thinking about what you mentioned regarding the renovations to the Hoops House. How are they coming along?”
“Slowly but surely,” Lucy said with a slight laugh. “I’m meeting with the contractors tomorrow afternoon to go over the progress. The foundation work was more extensive than we initially thought.”
“Would you like some company?” Tom asked, then quickly added, “I mean, if you wouldn’t mind a second pair of eyes looking things over.”
Lucy smiled warmly. “If you have the time, I’d like that very much.”
“What time were you planning to go?” Tom asked, already making a mental note to clear his afternoon schedule.
“Around two o’clock,” Lucy told him. “The contractors said they’d have the structural report ready by then.”
“Perfect,” Tom said. “I can arrange to have the afternoon free.”
Their eyes met in the soft hallway lighting, and suddenly the world around them seemed to go quiet. Tom became acutely aware of how close they were standing, the way the lamplight caught the highlights in Lucy’s hair, the gentle rise and fall of her breathing.
They began moving toward each other, drawn by forty years of unresolved feelings and the magic of an evening that had reminded them both what they’d lost so long ago.
The sharp ding of the elevator interrupted the moment, and they jumped apart just as Margo stepped out, looking tired but managing a smile when she saw them.
“Oh, good, you’re back,” Margo said warmly. “I’m glad I caught you, Mom.”
That’s when Tom noticed the towel draped over Margo’s forearm, and his instincts immediately went on alert.
Lucy noticed it at the same moment. “My goodness, Margo, what happened to your arm?” she asked, immediately stepping forward in concern.
“It’s just a small burn,” Margo assured her, though Tom could see pain flickering in her eyes. “I was hoping you could give me some salve for it.”
“Absolutely not,” Lucy said firmly, her maternal and professional instincts taking over. “I’ll be the judge of what treatment it needs. How did you get burned?”
“I think my memory is completely shot,” Margo said with a self-deprecating laugh. “I forgot I’d left the burner on under the large stock pot. Thank goodness I had to go back to get some ice cream for Mrs. Rentz, or I might not have remembered until morning.”
“That’s not like you at all, sweetheart,” Lucy said, frowning with concern. “You’re usually so careful about things like that.”
“I know, I know,” Margo waved off the concern with her uninjured hand.
“I’ve just been forgetful lately. Anyway, as I was reaching to turn off the burner, the back door banged really loudly and startled me.
I slipped on a wet spot on the floor and instinctively grabbed for the side of the stove to catch myself.
I forgot the burner was still on and caught my arm right in the flame. ”
Lucy carefully peeled back the gauzy cloth covering the injury and sucked in her breath sharply. “Oh, honey, this is not a small burn at all.”
“Mom, seriously, it’s not that bad,” Margo tried again to minimize the injury.
“This is going to need proper treatment at the clinic,” Lucy said decisively. “The blistering is already starting, and we need to make sure it doesn’t get infected.”
“I’ll drive you both,” Tom offered immediately. “But first, Margo, can you give me the keys to your shop?”
“Why?” Margo asked, looking puzzled.
“Honey, this is the third incident that’s happened to you in the space of three days,” Tom pointed out, his professional concern evident in his voice.
Lucy’s head shot up to meet his eyes, understanding immediately dawning, then she turned back to her daughter with renewed worry.
“Tom’s right, sweetheart,” Lucy said quietly. “This pattern is concerning.”
“Let me just check out the shop,” Tom told Margo gently.
“I know you thought you left the door unlocked the other night, and that you figured you must have spilled grease on the floor that caused your baker to slip and get hurt. Now this...” His eyes met hers seriously.
“I’m sorry, Margo, but with the fires starting up again around town, I need to make sure these are just accidents. ”
“Okay,” Margo said, holding up her uninjured hand in surrender. “But can we please go get this looked at now? It’s really starting to hurt.”
Tom nodded and took them to his car. After dropping them off at the clinic, promising to return after examining the coffee shop, he pulled out his phone and called Holt.
“Can you meet me at Margo’s coffee shop?” Tom asked without preamble. “I need help going over the place.”
“Of course,” Holt replied immediately. “What’s happened?”
“I’m not entirely sure yet,” Tom said grimly. “But I think we might have a copycat from ten years ago, and this time they’re going after Margo and Willa.”
“I’ll be there in five minutes,” Holt said, and the line went dead.
Tom pulled up in front of Teacups just as a figure dressed completely in black was attempting to manipulate something at the front door of the shop.
The person was so focused on whatever they were doing that they didn’t notice his arrival until Tom jumped out of his patrol car and started sprinting toward them.
The moment they spotted Tom, the figure took off running toward the alley behind the building.
Tom gave chase, his adrenaline surging as he rounded the corner of the shop.
But his foot hit a slick patch of what felt like cooking oil, and he went down hard, landing flat on his back with enough force to see stars.
As Tom lay there trying to catch his breath and assess whether anything was broken, a familiar face appeared above him.
“Taking a nap down there?” Holt asked dryly, walking around to offer Tom a hand up.
“Very funny,” Tom muttered, accepting the help and dusting himself off. He quickly explained what had happened, describing the figure in black and the chase that had ended with his ungraceful fall.
When they reached the front door of the coffee shop, both men stopped and stared at what they found. A key was jammed partway into the lock.
“My hunch was right,” Tom said quietly, his voice filled with grim certainty. “Someone is definitely targeting Margo, and they’re being very subtle about it.”