Chapter Twenty
Remi gave a slow nod. “That’s the one thing I never doubted in my life,” she said.
Liza’s sent her a curious glance. “Your father?”
“The fact that the two of you loved each other.”
The older woman’s eyes remained distant, as if her thoughts lingered in the past.
“No one ever understood me like your father,” she said in low, soft tones. “That’s the key to a happy marriage. Knowing all your partner’s faults but still loving each other.”
Remi set down her mug, her mouth dry and her heart twisting with a sharp pain. “I had that,” she breathed.
“Excuse me?”
“That’s the way I felt when I was with Ash,” Remi clarified. “Complete.”
Not surprisingly, Liza’s features hardened at the mention of Remi’s ex-fiancé. “I heard he was back in town.”
Remi was annoyed by her mother’s stiff tone. “I never understood why you didn’t like him.”
Liza widened her eyes and Remi prepared herself for the pretense that she didn’t understand what Remi meant. It was the usual game. Liza would display a fleeting disdain for Ash, then retreat behind her barriers of indifference the moment she was challenged.
Surprisingly, this time Liza actually answered the question. “It wasn’t personal.”
“It felt personal,” Remi informed the older woman. “Especially to Ash.”
“I didn’t want you to marry a cop,” Liza said, the words sounding as if they were being dragged out of her.
Remi was baffled by the explanation. Was her mother just making some excuse to avoid admitting she thought the Marcel family was beneath them?
“Why not?” she demanded. “You married a cop.”
“Yes.” Liza turned, wandering toward the center of the kitchen, her hands smoothing the jacket of her ivory pantsuit. “I loved your father very much, but his career was a constant strain on our relationship.”
“It’s a demanding job,” Remi agreed.
Liza made a sound of impatience, as if Remi couldn’t possibly comprehend. “It wasn’t demanding, it was all-consuming,” she corrected. “Do you know how many dinners and special events I was forced to attend alone?”
It would have been impossible for Remi to forget. Her mother might have found it difficult to reveal her emotions to her daughter, but that had never been a problem with her husband. She’d griped, she’d complained, she’d sulked whenever Gage announced he had to go in to work. If it’d been up to Liza Harding-Walsh, her husband would have remained at her side night and day.
Remi rushed to the defense of her father. “He was a good cop.”
“He was,” Liza agreed. “And I had to accept that his family would always come second.”
Remi studied her mother with mounting confusion. “I thought you said you were happy?”
“We were,” Liza insisted. “Very happy. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t a cost to his career. One I had to pay along with Gage.”
Remi got it. She truly did. When she’d been dating Ash, there’d been times when she’d wanted to storm down to the station and demand that he leave. He’d missed her birthday party, the spring formal at college, and the Christmas dinner she’d prepared, although that one might have been on purpose. She’d tried to cook duck and it had ended up as dry as sawdust.
But she’d been so very proud of him and what he was accomplishing. Plus, he was doing what he loved. How could she ever take that away from him?
“I suppose every job has its pros and cons,” she murmured, a wistful sadness tugging at her heart.
“This was more,” Liza insisted, her hands pressed against her stomach and her face oddly pale. “It was like being with my father all over again. The secrecy. The refusal to discuss what was troubling him, no matter how many times I pleaded with him to be honest. And his darkness. The terrible darkness.”
The spiders returned to skitter down Remi’s spine. “What darkness?”
Liza made a small sound, as if belatedly realizing she was revealing stuff she’d never wanted revealed.
“Nothing.” She turned back to Remi, a meaningless smile on her lips. “I’m being silly.”
“Mother, did Dad . . .”
“I allowed my emotions to overcome me at times.” Liza overrode Remi’s demand to know more about the darkness in her father. Clearly, she had no intention of discussing what she’d meant. “I wanted things to be easier for you.”
Easy. Remi sighed. Ash hadn’t been easy. Unlike her other boyfriends, he’d never cared about her wealth or social position. He hadn’t even cared about her looks, although he told her that she was beautiful. He’d demanded her heart, her soul, and a permanent place in her life.
Nothing less would do.
Looking back, she wondered if his desire to claim her so completely had unconsciously freaked her out. “Should love be easy?” she murmured, speaking more to herself than her mother.
“Probably not.” Liza heaved a small sigh. “I’m sorry I tried to interfere. I know you’ve been unhappy since the engagement was broken.”
“That had nothing to do with you,” Remi said. And she meant it. She’d become resigned to her mother’s lack of welcome for Ash into the family. That hadn’t influenced her decision to break off the engagement. “I was going through a lot.”
There was an awkward pause. The death of Remi’s father was yet another subject they never discussed.
“Yes.” Her mother cleared her throat. “Is Ash planning on staying in Chicago?”
Remi’s heart skidded, as if it was a car that hit black ice. Was it excitement at the thought of Ash being back in Chicago? Or terror that he might leave again?
She really wasn’t sure.
“I think his plans are still up in the air,” she told her mother.
“Is he here for work?”
“He’s helping his brother with the Butcher case.”
Liza made a sound of distress, her hand lifting to touch her throat. Almost in an unconsciously protective manner. Remi didn’t blame her. The Butcher had destroyed both their lives.
“Then it’s true,” her mother rasped.
Remi nodded. She’d assumed her mother must have seen the endless news covering the latest murders. “I’m afraid so.”
She sent Remi a worried frown. “You should move back here until he’s caught. It’s not safe.”
Remi didn’t remind her mother that nowhere was safe. Not even this estate. Neither of them needed a reminder of that horrible night.
“Ash is staying with me,” she told her mother instead.
“Ah.” Liza glanced away before forcing herself to meet Remi’s steady gaze. “Why didn’t he come with you today?”
“He’s with Jax.”
Her mother abruptly narrowed her eyes. “Tell me why you’re here, Remi.”
Remi hesitated before squaring her shoulders. It was time to do what she’d come here to do. “I do have a question for you,” she admitted.
Liza stiffened, her expression wary. “Yes?”
Remi had considered a dozen different ways to get the information she wanted from her mother. In the end, she accepted that she would simply have to be honest.
“We were going through the old interviews Ash and Dad conducted five years ago.”
“Why?”
“To see if he’d overlooked anything.”
“And had he?” Liza asked.
“Not so much overlooked as was lied to,” Remi told her mother.
Liza tried to hide her impatience. “By a witness?”
“Robert Hutton.”
“Bobby?” Liza stared at Remi in surprise. No one expected a man in Robert Hutton’s position to be involved in a crime. “Why would he lie?”
“He told Dad that he was with you the night Tiffany Holloway was murdered.”
Her mother looked blank, as if all emotion had been wiped from her face. “Then I’m sure we were together.”
Remi gave a firm shake of her head. “I came home early that night. He wasn’t here. And neither were you.”
Liza waved her hand in a dismissive motion. “How could you possibly remember?”
“Because I was still sick the next morning when Dad was called and told that there’d been another murder,” Remi said. “Dad was trying to convince me to call a doctor while you were complaining that he was supposed to accompany you to some luncheon.”
Liza clicked her tongue. “Fine. Then we must have moved the meeting.”
“Bobby has already admitted he lied and you called to cancel the meeting.” She shared the information that Ash had texted her just as she’d arrived at the mansion.
A sudden silence filled the kitchen. Was her mother trying to recall that particular night? After all, she hadn’t had any reason to think about it for years. Or was she crafting some lie?
At last, she gave a restless lift of her shoulders. “What are you asking me?”
“Where did you go that night?” Remi demanded bluntly.
Liza tilted her chin, her lips pursed. “I don’t want to discuss it.”
It wasn’t the reaction Remi had been expecting. She’d assumed Liza would either deny knowing what she was talking about or smoothly explain that she’d been called to a different charity meeting that had some sort of emergency.
It was amazing how dramatic some of those people could be over a luncheon to save an old theater or support some local politician.
“Please, Mother, it might be important,” she murmured, her voice pleading. “Why did you cancel that night?”
Liza paced across the floor, staring into the back mudroom as if seeking some source of inspiration. “I told you that I allowed my emotions to overcome me,” she at last said, her voice so soft it was hard for Remi to catch the words.
“Mother?”
Liza’s narrow shoulders tensed. “Your father told me that he had a difficult case. I even knew it had something to do with a serial killer called the Butcher. But I didn’t truly comprehend the amount of time it would force your father to spend away from home.”
Remi nodded. She’d been equally unhappy at the endless hours her father and Ash had been forced to work, although she’d tried to be supportive. She understood they were under a lot of pressure.
“What does that have to do with canceling your dinner with Bobby?” she asked.
Liza kept her back turned. “Your father had told me that he was spending the evening with Ash, interviewing some businessman, and he couldn’t join Bobby and me for dinner.”
Remi shuffled through her memories. “That’s true. Ash called me to say he was going to be busy. That’s why I decided to go to the study group that night.”
“I impulsively asked the housekeeper to make a plate of dinner for him,” Liza continued, almost as if she hadn’t heard Remi. Perhaps she was too lost in her thoughts. “You know how I hated it when he would eat at one of those greasy diners.”
Remi swallowed a choked laugh. Her mother might have loved her father, but she’d never fussed over his health.
“Actually, I remember you saying that you hoped he got heartburn when he admitted to going to the diner,” she reminded her mother.
Again, Remi’s words were ignored. “I called the station to ask him to meet me in the parking lot,” Liza continued.
“And?”
“And I was told he wasn’t there.”
Remi waited for more. When her mother remained silent, she gave a shrug. “That’s not unusual,” she pointed out. “It’s not like he had a desk job. He spent as much time driving around Chicago as he ever did at the station.”
“I asked when he was expected back,” Liza abruptly continued. “They told me he’d gone home hours ago and wasn’t expected back that night.”
“So?” Remi remained puzzled. “It was probably just a mix-up.”
Liza slowly turned, her face still pale and her expression strained. “Yes, but I was already feeling fragile. I was suddenly convinced he must be lying to me.”
“Dad?”
“He was a handsome, charming man. Women were always throwing themselves at him. And—”
“You can’t be serious,” Remi interrupted despite her best effort. She wanted her mother to explain why she’d offered an alibi for Bobby Hutton, but she couldn’t ignore the implication that her father would ever cheat. He had his faults. She knew that. He could be selfish, and obsessed with his job, and he forgot important events, but there was no one more loyal.
Liza looked oddly defensive. “It was a natural concern. My father always had a mistress. Sometimes more than one. It was expected of a man in his position.”
Remi scowled. “Dad would never have cheated on you.”
“My heart believed that, but my head was . . .” Liza faltered, a blush suddenly staining her cheeks. “Confused. He’d been so distracted. So distant. I had to make sure.”
Remi studied her mother in amazement. Liza Harding-Walsh had always seemed so invincible. As if nothing could touch her. Certainly nothing so mundane as jealousy. The realization that she’d been vulnerable enough to fear her husband was interested in another woman made her more human.
“What did you do?” Remi asked, truly interested.
“I canceled my dinner with Bobby and drove down to the station,” Liza admitted in stiff tones.
“Was Dad there?”
“No. I could see right away that his car wasn’t in the lot.”
Remi studied her mother’s face. There was an expression she couldn’t fully decipher. Almost a desperation.
“I waited in my car,” Liza said. “I felt like a fool, but I couldn’t leave.”
“How long did you stay there?”
“Two hours.” Liza shrugged. “Maybe three.”
“What happened?”
“Eventually, your dad drove into the lot, along with Ash, and pulled a man from the back seat of his car.” Her lips twisted, the strange expression lingering on her face. “It was obvious he’d been out searching for a criminal. Or maybe it was a witness they intended to question. Either way, he’d been working while I’d sat there like a silly old woman.”
Remi felt a tiny pang of regret she’d forced her mother to reveal her weakness. She knew it would scrape against Liza’s considerable pride to admit what she’d done that night. “You were upset,” she murmured, her tone soothing. “Did you talk to Dad?”
Liza shook her head. “Not until later. He asked about Bobby’s alibi.”
So . . . her father had known that Bobby hadn’t been at the house that night. Did he talk to the younger man? Did Bobby confess his connection to the victim?
“I wonder why he never told Ash?” Remi spoke her thoughts out loud.
“I’m sure he didn’t want to embarrass me.” Her mother sucked in a slow, deep breath, her features hardening. “Is there anything else?”
Remi tried to think of what she should ask. There was no doubt information that could help Ash, but right now she didn’t want to dwell on the past. Or the glimpses her mother had given her into her vulnerable heart.
It made her feel as if her entire world was being turned upside down.
“I thought we could have lunch together,” she offered, without realizing the words were going to come out of her mouth.
Liza widened her eyes, clearly startled by Remi’s offer. “Today?”
Remi had a second of remorse. Did she really want to spend another hour or more making small talk with her mother? Then she squashed the familiar unease.
Perhaps she and her mother could forge a new relationship.
Not necessarily the traditional mother-daughter bond, but a mutual love for her father and the suffering they’d endured.
“Unless you have other plans,” Remi said.
“No.” Liza hesitated, then the polite smile curved her lips. “That would be nice.”