All her nerves, her fears at having her mother’s killer sitting calmly across from her, flew out of her head. He’d seen Layne? He’d been watching them?
“What do you know about my sister?” she asked hotly. “Or me?”
He smiled slowly and those nerves spiked. “You’d be surprised,” he said softly.
She covered her cell phone with her palm, feeling somehow stronger, safer having it in her hand so that she could call the police in a second if he threatened her. When in reality, all she had to do was yell and a half a dozen people would come running. Including her uncle. “You really expect anyone to believe you’re here because you want to help in my mother’s murder investigation?”
“Why else would I come back?”
She didn’t know and that was what worried her. “You won’t get away with it.”
“That so?” he asked, watching her with his hooded gaze, his damn smirk.
Realizing her knuckles were white from gripping the desk and her phone so tightly, she let go and tucked her hands behind her back. Damn it, she should be the one in charge of this conversation. Should be controlling it and keeping him on edge.
Instead she felt off balance and inadequate. And that was unacceptable. She refused to let this man, with his flat eyes and cocky grin, get the best of her. He’d taken her mother away from her and her sisters. She’d do whatever she had to in order to make him pay for that.
Pressing her lips together, she inhaled deeply and held it for the count of five. When she spoke again, she was more composed. “Yes, that’s so. Because I will do everything in my power to make sure you’re brought to justice. I won’t rest until you’re convicted of my mother’s murder.”
He didn’t even blink. “Is that a threat, baby girl?”
Her blood ran cold. Baby girl. The nickname her mother used to call her. Bastard.
“It’s a promise,” she said, hating how her voice shook, how sick she felt at the reminder that her mother had shared so much of herself with this man. “One you’ll have plenty of time to think about when you’re serving a life sentence in state prison.”
Shaking his head, he sat up. “That’s a nice fantasy you’ve spun for yourself. But it’s going to be tough for anyone to get a conviction against me when there’s no evidence connecting me to Valerie’s murder.”
“There will be.” There had to be. They had to find something, anything that would help the case against him.
“You go right on believing that,” he said as he stood. “But it’s not going to happen.”
A lump formed in her throat. Oh, God, he was right. Unless new evidence surfaced, or he confessed, the police would have no reason to arrest him, to even hold him. He’d come back because he knew the chances of him being charged with murder were slim to none at this point.
For the first time since they’d discovered the truth about what happened to her mother, Nora was afraid. Terrified Dale would walk away a free man when it was all said and done. And that there would be nothing she could do to stop that from happening.
“You’re upset,” he said in a soothing tone that made bile rise in her throat. “That’s understandable. But I didn’t come here to argue with you. I came back, voluntarily, to give my statement to the police.” He stepped forward and though her desk separated them, she jerked back, bumping into her chair. “Since it looks like I’ll be in town for a little while, maybe we’ll see each other again.”
With another of those disturbing winks, he walked away. At the still-open door he faced her. “And, baby girl? Be sure and tell your father I dropped by to see you.”
* * *
“DO YOU WANT anything else?”
As with every other time she’d stopped by Tanner’s booth during the past hour, Jessica Taylor’s gaze stayed somewhere on the wall above their heads as she spoke. She’d been polite and attentive, had made sure their glasses were always filled and had even brought Josh extra napkins for his rib dinner, but she hadn’t made eye contact with any of the four guys she waited on.
“We’re good,” Tanner said quietly. Other than when he’d given her his dinner order, they were the only words he’d spoken to her—tonight or ever. But he hoped to draw her attention his way.
No dice.
“Separate checks, right?” she asked, tearing four slips from her order form. She studied each one before handing them out. Reaching across the table, she took Nate’s empty plate, the V of her white T-shirt tugged down showing a flash of beige lace and the curve of her breast.
Tanner’s gut—and, damn it, his groin—tightened. And the last thing he needed was his buddies giving him grief about getting a hard-on in the middle of the Ludlow Street Café. Jerking his gaze to the table, he gulped down the soda left in his cup, the melting ice cubes hitting his lips. He wished he could toss them in his pants.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes to take those up for you,” Jessica said.
He didn’t look up until she walked away.
“Dude,” Nate said, kicking Tanner’s shin under the table causing his drink to slosh out of the cup and drip down his chin. “You’re drooling.”
Nate laughed at his own lame joke.
Tanner glared at his friend and basketball teammate. Sitting back in the booth, he wiped the back of his hand over the wetness on his chin.
Josh smirked as he counted out money. “If you want to tap that, you’re going to have to do more than stare at her like a loser.”
The back of Tanner’s neck heated. “I don’t even know her.”
No one did. Jessica had moved to Mystic Point a few months ago, and while she’d attended a few local parties, for the most part, she’d kept to herself.
“Sure you do,” Josh said, shaking the remaining ice in his cup. “She’s from Boston. She’s the police chief’s niece. She’s hot. And, best of all, she’s easy.” Grinning, he shook an ice cube in his mouth then nodded at Nate. “She even gave Nate a pity screw.”
Tanner’s fingers twitched on his cup. The last thing he wanted to be reminded of was that his friend had hooked up with a drunken Jess. It made him feel…jealous. And possessive. Which was nuts since the girl wouldn’t give him the time of day.
“There was no pity involved,” Nate said, elbowing Josh hard enough to have him doubling over. “She fell for my charming personality, manly good looks and—” He stretched his arms overhead then brought them down, flexing his biceps. “My ripped bod.”
Next to Tanner, Christian Myers dug his wallet out of his back pocket. “If you want to get to know her, ask her out. The worst she can say is no.”
“Yeah, listen to Dr. Phil here,” Josh said, chomping his ice. “If she shoots you down, you move on. No harm, no foul.”
Tanner wished he’d never suggested they eat at the café. They should’ve hit Mickey D’s instead. “I didn’t say I wanted to ask her out.”
“Keep denying it, brother,” Nate said. “But the truth is written all over your face.”
“Shut it,” Tanner