“Okay.”
“Why do you still wear your wedding band?”
She stared at him stupidly at the sudden change in conversation. “None of your business.”
“Are you still in love with him?”
“God, no.” Sutton shuddered in disgust at the thought.
“Then why wear his ring?”
“To remind me of him.”
“That doesn’t make any sense to me.”
“It doesn’t have to. It does to me, and that’s all that matters.”
“Did you wake up on the bitchy side of the bed?”
“Yes. That happens when the cops wake me up, wanting to know if the fugitive I’m harboring killed someone else.”
“You know I didn’t kill Lyle or Helen Stevens.”
“Then go in and prove it the way any normal person would!” Sutton turned, scattering the neatly folded clothes out of her suitcase, searching for something cool to wear.
“Are you saying I’m not normal?”
“I don’t think ‘normal’ fits any of the Porter brothers,” she snapped.
The suitcase that was lying on two chairs pushed together fell to the floor, but she didn’t try to pick it back up. She grabbed a pair of crop pants and a T-shirt. Choosing her underwear, she then turned and nearly bumped into Tate.
“Why don’t you unpack your clothes?”
“Because I don’t know how long I’m staying. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a shower.”
“You wear your wedding ring to remember a bad marriage and don’t unpack even though you’ve been here a couple of weeks, and you think I’m the one who’s not normal?”
Sutton refused to engage in any further conversation with Tate. His sharp tongue always managed a snide comeback, and the more she tried to fight back, the more she unwittingly revealed. If he was determined to have the last word, he could have it.
She closed the bathroom door then took a leisurely shower, letting the water ease the stress of the sheriff’s visit and being closed in with Tate. If she didn’t get rid of him, there was going to be more than one killer loose in town.
Stepping out of the shower, she dried off then wound the towel around her body as she went to the sink to brush her teeth. She was rinsing the toothpaste out of her mouth when she gave a startled scream, seeing a man’s reflection in the mirror. The bathroom door burst open, and Tate came running in, carrying a rifle.
“What?”
Sutton only managed to point to the window where she now recognized Dustin. She spat out the remains of the toothpaste before furiously stomping to the window to raise it for the younger brother to climb in. When he was halfway in, Sutton lost it and began beating him on the back.
“Stop.” Tate put his hand around her waist, moving her away from the window so Dustin could climb in without further attack. “At least give him a chance to defend himself.”
Sutton jerked away from Tate’s touch. “I’m getting sick of being scared to death by someone coming by to see you. The next one who scares me, I’m going to shoot first and ask questions later.” She jerked the gun away from him before he could react then reached for her clothes.
Juggling the items, she stormed from the bathroom, going into her bedroom and slamming the door shut with her foot. Barely dried off, she tugged on the crop pants and top then dragged a brush through her wet hair and put it up in a ponytail. Then she sat down on the side of the bed and stared at the shotgun she had ripped out of Tate’s hands, and her blood ran cold.
It was his rifle, the one he had said the killer had taken from him. The distinctive scratches on the barrel showing how many women he had lain with were visible. The scratches all seemed old. Either Tate had grown out of the arrogant habit, or he hadn’t had sex in a long time. Sutton didn’t have to wonder which it was; Cheryl had confessed they had slept together as recently as a couple of weeks ago. She guessed women he fucked more than once didn’t deserve a new notch.
The sound of the brothers going into the kitchen had her curious enough to open the door and follow after them.
“Jo told Greer she had no idea why he was out in the woods. Since he wrecked his truck, he caught rides with anyone he could when he wanted to go out. She didn’t know who he had caught a ride with the night of his murder. He called her three hours before he was killed to tell her he was headed to Rosie’s.”
The bar was just a mile up the road from her house.
“Maybe no one gave him a ride home, and he started walking to town,” Sutton surmised.
“Jo said she got a call from him an hour before he was killed, but she was towing a truck, so she missed his call.”
“He was walking home, and he came up on the killer, or the killer used the opportunity to kill him,” Sutton thought out loud before moving to stand beside the front door, Tate’s rifle held seemingly casually in her hand. Keeping both brothers in her line of sight, she lifted the butt of the rifle to her shoulder, pointing it at Tate.
“What the fuck!” Dustin took a step forward.
“Dustin, stop.” Tate jerked him to a halt.
“Listen to your brother,” Sutton warned.
“I’m going to take that shotgun away from you and smack that ass.” Tate now took a step forward.
“Try me. You told me the killer took your gun, so how did Dustin have it?” Sutton pumped the handle, the distinctive noise bringing Tate to a sudden stop.
“I have more than one gun. I don’t carry that one anymore,” he explained, his brown eyes snapping in fury.
His answer explained why the notch marks seemed old and faded. She lowered the weapon.
“Do you mark the barrel of that gun when you get laid by a different woman?”
His silence had her wanting to shoot him.
“I should have known.” Her eyes went to Dustin. “Do you have the same disgusting habit?”
Dustin’s silence betrayed his guilt, too.
“Wow. I see you raised your brother to be a jackass, too.”
“It started out as a joke—”
“Keeping track of the women you sleep with isn’t funny; it’s disgusting.”
Sutton shoved the gun at him before she changed her mind and shot him.
“Woman, have you lost your mind? You don’t handle a shotgun that way. You could have accidently shot one of us.”
“My pap taught me how to handle a gun.”
When both men’s eyes narrowed at her, she gave them a sinister smile.
Dustin returned it with a friendly grin. “I forgot how much I like you. You fucked up when you let her get away.” His eyes traveled down her body. “How do you feel about being with a younger man?”
Sutton made gagging noises.
Dustin’s grin slipped. “That wasn’t nice.”
“The only thing worse, in my opinion, than being with a younger man would be to be with a Porter.”
“What’s wrong with being with a Porter? You’re the one who lied and cheated on Tate. If you didn’t look so good naked before you wrapped up in that towel earlier, I wouldn’t even be interested.”
Sutton held her hand out to Tate. “Give me the gun.”
Tate took a step back, the gun held tightly in his hand. “Calm down. He’s joking.”
“No, I—”
“Shut up, Dustin, before I save Sutton the trouble.”
“I’m going.” He raised his hands up in surrender. “I left the bag of clothes I brought for you outside. Come to the bathroom, and I’ll give it to you.”
Tate nodded before following his brother back to the bedroom.
Sutton went into the kitchen to make herself a bowl of cereal. She was sitting at the table, eating, when Tate returned.
“You didn’t make me a bowl?”
“Why don’t you call one of your women to come and wait on you hand and foot?”
“A simple ‘no’ would have been good enough.”
Sutton watched as he made himself a bowl of cereal. He wa
s pale and moved stiffly. His overpowering presence made him seem better than he actually was. When she saw him almost drop the gallon of milk, she stood up.
“Sit down. I’ll make it for you.” Her fingers accidently touched his when she took the milk from him.
“Thanks.” He sat down at the table as she finished making the cereal for him then set the bowl down in front of him.
“Do you need another pain pill?”
“I already took it when I was in the bathroom.”
Sutton nodded as she sat back down.
“How did you meet your husband?”
She paused with the cereal-filled spoon halfway to her mouth, assessing him. His face was neutral, as if he was just trying to make conversation. Sutton ate her cereal as she decided if she wanted to answer his question.
“Come on. I’m bored being cooped up.”
“So, you want me to discuss my marriage to entertain you?”
“I want you to tell me about your life because I’m interested.” The sincerity in his voice broke her resolve not to discuss her disastrous marriage.
“I met Scott when I was selling pharmaceutical supplies. He was a doctor on my route.”
“Was it love at first sight?”
“No, he actually asked me out several times before I agreed to go out with him. At first, I wasn’t interested. He seemed to be pompous, letting the prestige of his position go to his head. One night, I gave in and went out with him.” She took another bite of her cereal as she remembered back to the time when she had first started dating him.
“He seemed to loosen up while we were dating. He had a sense of humor that was wickedly funny, and I didn’t feel as lonely when I was with him. He asked me to marry him on Valentine’s Day. I thought it was romantic and that he loved me, so I said yes.”
“You thought?”
“Looking back, I think I was more of a challenge than anything else.”
“That had to hurt.”
Sutton pushed her bowl of cereal away, no longer hungry. “It wasn’t the first time. Seems men only want me as long as it takes them to catch me.”
Tate’s spoon dropped into his bowl of cereal. “That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is. I was the tiebreaker between you and Cash. With Scott, I was a trophy.”
“A trophy?”
“I found out later that the two other doctors in his practice, who had asked me out and I refused, had a bet on who could make me change my mind.”
“The fucker told you this?”
Sutton nodded. “When I told him I wanted a divorce.”
“It’s a good thing he’s dead,” he said grimly.
She stood up, going to the sink to place her dirty bowl, and then went to the front door.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going for a walk. I’ll be back in an hour.”
“Sutton …”
“The conversation is over. I don’t want to talk about my marriage anymore. I don’t want to talk about my past with you, either. It makes me sick to my stomach that I was a fool twice in my life.”
“I didn’t fool you—” Tate rose to face her angrily.
“Yes, you did!” she screamed at him, losing control. “You lied to me. You told me you would always be there for me, Tate! Remember? I loved you with every breath in my body, and all you were concerned about was getting one up on Cash. I was always there when you needed me. I was there when your parents were drowned. I helped you with your brothers and Rachel. I helped you pass your college entrance exams even though you had no intention of going. I protected you from my father. Even after we broke up, I watched out for you.”
Tate’s face went pale. “What are you talking about?”
“When Greer was put in jail for selling drugs to an undercover cop, I read about it in the paper. I contacted Diamond and told her I would pay her any additional fees she wanted, but I wanted Greer out of jail.”
“Why didn’t she tell us?”
“Because I told her not to. Even now, I’m protecting you by letting you hide out here, despite that someone else could be killed.” She gave a hysterical laugh. “I never stopped being there for you, but you were never there when I needed you. Ever. Not when my parents and I fought over you, not when I was missing my family and Treepoint so badly I married a man who abused me, and you sure as hell weren’t there when I needed you the most—the day my daughter died.”
Chapter 15
Sutton flung open the door, jumped off the porch and ran into the woods, not noticing her feet being torn up by the gravel driveway or the sticks and brambles in the woods. Running from her past, Tate, and the day she had had lost her precious eleven-month-old daughter.
She came to a stop halfway up the mountain, holding her stomach, gasping, trying to catch her breath. Sobs escaped as she threw herself down next to a tree. Holding her knees, she laid her head back on the tree as she tried to regain control.
She had been determined not to tell anyone about Valentine. When her anger at Tate had opened the floodgates, she hadn’t been able to push back her words. Even as she was screaming at Tate, her mind was telling her to shut up.
“Sassy pants …”
“Don’t call me that.”
She sat there helplessly as Tate walked forward, squatting down in front of her. His hand reached out to cup her cheek, his large palm rough and calloused, yet the gentleness in his touch gave her the strength to stifle the cries coming from her throat.
“I thought I was doing the right thing by letting you go …”
Sutton’s eyes jerked up to his; the pain he was no longer trying to hide hit her with the force of a punch to the stomach.
“I would have killed Cash over any other woman I loved, the way I loved you, but I knew you would give up your dreams up for me. I would have gotten you pregnant and kept you on the mountain. I wanted your dreams to come true, not to be sacrificed for me.
“When you left town after graduation, I almost went after you. The only thing stopping me was wanting you to have the life you deserved. I told myself that I would give you your freedom until my family was grown. Then I would drag you back to Treepoint.”
“You never came for me,” she hiccupped, unable to stop crying.
“I did,” he said, tears brimming in his eyes. “I gave you enough time to graduate and work a few years, long enough to decide which life you would prefer. I tracked you down in San Diego and waited outside where you worked. I sat there all day, waiting for you to come out. I had bought a new outfit so I wouldn’t embarrass you when you saw me.
“When you came out, you looked so beautiful I couldn’t move. Then, a red sports car pulled in, and a man got out, holding the door for you. I could tell he had money. He was dressed in an expensive suit with his hair all slicked back. You kissed him before getting in the car. I saw the ring on your finger and knew you were going to marry him.
“How could I compete with him? The pants I had on didn’t cost as much as those fancy shoes he wore. I couldn’t give you the house or the money or life he could, so I left. I was jealous and angry, but I left because you were living the life I thought you wanted and deserved. If I had any idea you needed me, I would have been there. I swear, Sutton, I would have been there for you.” He sat down next to her, placing his arm around her shoulder then pulling her to him until her head lay on his shoulder.
They sat there quietly for hours, each regretting the missed opportunities. She believed Lisa’s lies, and Tate had believed he couldn’t measure up. Neither of them had faith in the love they had found that one special summer.
“How did your daughter die?” Tate eventually asked.
“After Scott and I were married, it didn’t take long for me to realize my mistake. We had only been back from our honeymoon for two weeks when he started abusing me.
“I was taking a bath when he walked in and asked why I hadn’t quit my job after he had asked me to. I told him I had never said I would quit working, and
he dragged me out of the bathtub by my hair and beat me. I lay there on the wet floor, believing I was going to die.
“When he finished, he left me to go to bed as if nothing had happened. It took me a while, but I managed to get up and clean myself up. I tried to leave, and he told me if I did, he would kill my parents. I believed him. He was crazy and wasn’t trying to hide it any longer. The next day, he called my work and told my boss I wouldn’t be back. I was even afraid to visit pap before he died.
“Not one person called to check on me, and I didn’t know where to turn to for help. I didn’t want my parents to know I had married a man who would hurt me, but could potentially hurt them. I was ashamed and angry at myself for falling for his crap.
“He made sure I was isolated and afraid. I became that woman I swore I would never be when I heard about abused women. He would beat me and then hold me and say it was for my own good. I began to believe him. He stole my self-respect; I couldn’t ever make him happy. If I cooked him something, he would call it slop or hillbilly swill. I used to be a good cook, remember?”
“The best I ever had.” Tate’s soft voice sent a wave of reassurance, though Scott’s insults still had her doubting if there was truth to his statements.
“He broke my arm when he found out I was taking birth control. Then, when I didn’t get pregnant, he would call me an infertile bitch. If he didn’t like the way I was dressed, he would call me a slut. I wouldn’t wear anything low-cut or sleeveless, even though I stayed in the house all day. I couldn’t go to the grocery store unless he went with me, and he had alarms on the windows and doors that would tell him if I tried to leave. I was trapped and didn’t know how to get away.
“When I became pregnant, the beatings stopped, but he wouldn’t even let me go to the obstetrician alone. He stayed with me every second, even during the exams. It still boggles my mind that, because of his position, he was given so much leeway. Even professional, educated people abuse their spouses. It isn’t based on being poor.”
“I know that,” he assured her.