Don't Cry. Beverly BartonЧитать онлайн книгу.
of the way he felt, that he considered Zoe a nuisance. What kind of parent was he?
Think about what the Scotts are going through tonight. They’ve lost their daughter, and here you are moaning and groaning about your kid. You should be thankful that she’s alive and well and creating havoc in your life. I’d bet Charlie Scott would tell you that you’re one lucky SOB.
Two hours later, after consuming his third beer and falling asleep in front of the TV, J.D. woke, gathered up his shoes, jacket, and holster, and headed down the hall. He paused outside of Zoe’s closed door. He knocked softly. She didn’t respond. He turned the doorknob and to his surprise found the door unlocked. He eased open the door and peered inside the semidark room. With her hair still damp from her recent shower and wearing an oversized Jeff Gordon NASCAR sweatshirt, she lay asleep atop the covers.
J.D. slipped into the room, freed one hand from the load he was carrying, and then drew the folded bedspread up and over his daughter. He stood there for a few minutes and watched his little girl sleep. In the looks department, she’d gotten the best of Carrie and him. Actually, she looked a lot like J.D.’s sister Julia.
I’m sorry I’m not a better father. I’m sorry that I never knew you existed. I’m doing the best I can, kiddo. I promise that I’ll try not to screw things up too bad.
He reached down and ran his fingertips across her forehead, brushing aside a strand of long black hair.
You deserve better than me, Zoe. But you’re stuck with me. Like it or not, I’m your dad.
Chapter 3
For most of her life—certainly after the car wreck that had claimed her mother’s life when she was six—Audrey had enjoyed a close bond with Tam’s parents, Geraldine and Willie Mullins. Geraldine was the type of mother every little girl should have—loving, caring, attentive, putting her child’s needs before her own. A mother to her child, not a girlfriend. Tam had been raised with a strict set of rules and regulations, but at the same time her parents had trusted her completely.
“I trust Tam to always do the right thing,” Geraldine had said. “And until she proves to me that I can’t trust her, I will always believe what she tells me is the truth.”
Audrey was pretty sure that Tam’s parents felt that she had never disappointed them. She’d been salutatorian of her high school graduating class, graduated magna cum laude from UT, and had gone on to graduate first in her class at the police academy. Although Geraldine would have preferred her daughter choose a less dangerous profession, Willie had been a very proud papa when his only child chose to follow in his footsteps and join the CPD. Willie had worked his way up the ladder from patrolman to chief of police.
Audrey envied her best friend her parents and the nurturing environment in which she had grown up. And even if they had known about Tam’s one and only fall from grace, they would have forgiven her and not loved her any less. Audrey’s earliest memories were of her parents arguing. Wayne Sherrod’s job as a Chattanooga policeman had come first with him. His wife and daughter had come in a distant second. Why the bubbly, sweet-natured social butterfly Norma Colton had married a stoic, cynical, hard-nosed cop, no one understood, least of all Audrey. Maybe it had been nothing more than opposites attracting.
She had always believed that if she’d been a boy, her father would have paid more attention to her. And that theory, one she had formed early on, had been proven correct when his second wife had presented him with a son. From the moment he was born, Blake had been the center of Wayne’s life, even more important to him than his job.
She had been jealous of her baby brother and had sometimes resented him terribly. But she had also loved him. Blake had been so sweet, so adorable, so very precious. When, a month before his second birthday, he had disappeared—assumed kidnapped—she had been consumed with guilt. Had it been her fault in some way because she had resented that her father so obviously loved Blake more than he did her? In her nine-year-old mind, she had felt somehow at fault. It hadn’t helped that, in his desperate grief, her father had accused her and her stepbrother Hart of being glad that Blake had been abducted.
As an adult, she had come to realize that her father had known what he’d said wasn’t true, that later, he had probably regretted the harsh, unjust accusation. And although her father had never apologized, Audrey had long ago forgiven him for lashing out at two innocent children. But she hadn’t forgotten, couldn’t forget no matter how much she wished she could. She wasn’t sure her father even remembered that day in detail. But that one moment in time, that one unjust accusation, had erected a barrier between father and daughter that still existed.
Audrey saw her dad infrequently—holidays, mostly. She called him occasionally—on his birthday and on her birthday—but he seldom called her. Her dad’s relationship with his stepson Hart wasn’t any better, but at least Hart had his uncle Garth, who had stepped in and become a surrogate father to him. And even though she thought Garth was a brash, cocky, womanizing SOB, she respected him for being a dedicated policeman and for looking after Hart, for always being there for his nephew. Her stepbrother practically worshipped the man.
Audrey would have felt completely alone in the world if not for the love and attention Tam and her parents had shown her over the years. But that was only one of the many reasons she adored Geraldine and Willie Mullins.
It was her love for Tam’s parents that had brought her there tonight despite the emotionally grueling day she’d had. Nine days after her murder, Jill Scott had been laid to rest. Audrey had cleared her afternoon schedule so she could attend the funeral and be available if Mary Nell needed her. But it had been obvious to everyone that Mary Nell had been medicated, possibly overmedicated. She had done little more than sleepwalk through the church service and the burial ceremony.
It had been nine days since Jill’s parents learned their daughter’s fate. Nine days since Jill’s body had been found in a rocking chair on the Cracker Barrel porch in Lookout Valley. Nine agonizing days, and the police still didn’t have a suspect. Nine days, and Debra Gregory was still missing.
When Audrey entered the Read House in downtown Chattanooga, she searched the lobby area for Porter. They had agreed to meet there instead of him picking her up at home. He wasn’t difficult to find since he was waiting right inside the front entrance.
Spit and polish. That was Porter Bryant to a T. Always dressed impeccably, clean-shaven, styled hair, manicured nails buffed to a gloss finish, and wearing a delicate hint of expensive men’s cologne.
Porter was to the manor born, so to speak. His father had been a wealthy, high-profile lawyer and his mother a socialite who had dabbled in interior design. Audrey suspected that Porter’s mother and her mother would have gotten on famously.
“Sorry I’m late,” she told him. “After I left the Scotts, I barely had time to go home and change clothes.”
“You missed Chief Mullins’s grand entrance and the big surprise moment.” Porter’s tone held a note of censure. When she gave him a screw-you glare, he quickly added, “You look lovely, so it was worth the wait. And I’m sure with so many people here, the chief and Mrs. Mullins weren’t aware of your absence.”
When he held out his arm for her to take, Audrey graciously accepted and they walked across the lobby and entered the Hamilton Room. Geraldine and Tam had rented that room and the adjoining River City Room for the surprise sixtieth birthday party they were hosting for Willie. The moment the door opened, music, laughter, and the roar of at least two hundred voices enveloped them.
“My God, I know Geraldine didn’t invite half of Hamilton County,” Audrey said. “She wanted it to be a close friends and family event.”
“Well, if only a third of the invited guests brought a date, that would dramatically increase the number of people attending tonight. Considering that Willie Mullins is the Chattanooga police chief, one would expect a large gathering. Certain things are expected of a high-ranking public servant.”
“I’m sure Geraldine was pressured into expanding the guest list.” No