Death on the Coast, M Comley [book club books TXT] 📗

box of garbage bags and then set to work in the living room. Gift cards were inserted into the gift packaging while the wrapping paper and ribbons went into the trash. Tina wasn’t the sentimental type. There would be no paper plates bedecked with wedding bows. She made her way out to the trash and was about to lift the can lid to deposit her bags when Scott pulled in. He sat in his car a moment, as though contemplating Lucy’s reaction. She made it easier on him and, sticking her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, ambled up to his side of the car. He opened the window.

“Hi, Lucy,” he said, sheepishly.

“Hi, Scott. I was just helping Tina straighten some things out. She’s in the shower. I’ll walk in with you and get my purse, then be on my way.”

He nodded. “Appreciate that.”

Lucy cocked her head against her shoulder. “Just remember the baby, huh?”

“I know. That’s what I’ve been thinking about since it happened. I didn’t lay a hand on her, Lucy, I swear.”

“I know. She told me as much. If you had, you think you’d have both your kneecaps right about now?” She looked into the car, but it was higher than his kneecaps.

“Wouldn’t blame you.”

“I’ll just say one thing, Scott. She deserves the best, and I think you’re the man for the job. There’s a baby coming. Time to start shielding them from the world, you know?”

His hands slid into his pocket and he nodded. “Thanks.”

Lucy grabbed her bag from the chair and left, thoughtful. How could I not have known? That was when she realized that if she wasn’t paying attention to her sister, or even her own marriage, chances were there was probably more to Angie’s situation than she realized, as well. With that in mind, she headed toward Angie’s house.

20

Lucy turned down Angie’s street and drove slowly up to the house. For a moment, she thought she’d come to the wrong place; there was a shiny red Cadillac Escalade parked in the drive. As she pulled in, Christine came out, a plastic tub in her arms, and slid it into the vehicle’s trunk.

“Christine?” Lucy was incredulous. “Did you get a new car?”

Christine glared, appearing angry that Lucy had shown up unannounced. She nodded, but said nothing, waiting for Lucy to lay the groundwork of the conversation.

Lucy shut her car door and slotted her sunglasses into her hair. “I must say I’m sort of surprised. I had no idea you had the resources to buy such a vehicle.”

Christine remained mute, frustrating Lucy to the point where she felt as though she should call Brendon. Every instinct told her that Christine was about to run away and there were going to be questions left unanswered. Lucy had come here to check how Christine was doing and go over anything that might give her a clue. What she found, however, was someone who appeared to be leaving town without any form of fanfare.

“Looks like you’ve got your hands full. Let me give you some help,” Lucy offered, starting toward the house.

“No!” Christine barked. “It’s fine. I’m busy now. Donating Mom’s things. Private time. I’ll catch you later, Lucy.”

Christine stared at her pointedly. There was nothing Lucy could do but return to her own car as she was clearly unwelcome. “I’m here if you need me,” she called through her open window as she backed down the driveway.

Unsure what to do next, Lucy went home to wait. She made herself a coffee and put two brownies on a plate. It was a two brownie kind of day.

She’d just sat at the table when she heard the crunch of tires on the gravel of her drive. Leaping up, Lucy slid one of the brownies back into its pan and just got the refrigerator door shut when there was a shadow at the front door. Hurriedly, she grabbed the handle and, thinking for certain it would be Mark, she flung it open.

Brendon stood there, wearing a sober expression.

She pushed open the screen door. “You may as well come in and tell me.”

He stepped inside.

“Coffee?”

“No, thank you, Lucy.”

“Mind if I finish mine?”

“Of course not. Want me to come in there?”

“Is it a kitchen table kind of conversation, or will I need the couch?”

“Uh, that depends on you. Maybe the couch.”

She nodded and picked up her coffee, leaving the remaining brownie untouched on its plate. The ambiance of her moment was spoiled by his arrival.

Sighing, she nodded to the recliner. “Go ahead, Brendon. I’m guessing, by the look on your face, it isn’t good news.”

He sat heavily, and she dropped onto the sofa, spilling coffee onto her pants but not bothering to brush it off.

“Tell me.”

“Well, Mark wasn’t terribly cooperative. What I have to tell you may hurt, Lucy.”

“Can’t hurt me any more than the silence. He’s not coming back, is he?”

“I can’t say for sure, but probably not. It’s not you, Lucy. It’s him. I’ve seen it in him for a long time.”

She chuckled wryly. “Huh. Funny that you can live with another person day in and day out and miss what the rest of the world sees.”

He nodded, leaning forward to close the distance between them. “I think Mark felt like he wasn’t good enough for you. Maybe not so much in the beginning, but later, as time passed. Men don’t like to feel competition from their wives. Takes a lot of inner strength to maintain your role in the marriage and… well…”

“Mark didn’t have it,” she finished for him.

“I’m afraid not. We all saw it, but I’m guessing the less he did, the harder you worked to make up for it, which of course was the opposite of what he needed. It wasn’t a shortcoming in you, Luce… he said that himself.”

“Wonder why he struggled to tell me that himself? Why did we have to go through all this for me to hear it? Not that anything would have changed. You’re right. I held back