Pecan Pie and Deadly Lies (An Adams Grove Novel) Page 8

  The GPS directed him to make a right turn ahead.

  He took the right and he was at the address she’d given him. The house was grand. Not that he didn’t want her to have done well, but this place was impressive. Arty had told him about that guy she married. Old Mr. SpaghettiO had asked her to marry him with a ring in a bowl of spaghetti, or something like that. He must have had one heck of a job and she must have really taken him to the cleaners when they divorced to be able to afford this alone. That was a little unsettling.

  He drove to the end of the street and turned around. This certainly wasn’t the kind of neighborhood where you parked on the side of the street. The security force would want to know what the heck he was up to.

  This has to be wrong. But as he got within range of the address again, he saw her SUV pull into the driveway and enter the garage.

  Although the house was nice, it certainly was no comparison to his house, or even the ranch. But it gave him the unsettled feeling there was more about her that he didn’t know.

  Why had he expected her to stay pretty much status quo all these years? Had she said something to make him think that or did he make the assumption? Was she just that modest? If so, he sure didn’t need to worry about her being a gold digger, not that she ever was.

  It was weird that in his mind he’d pictured her in the same old apartment she’d been living in when they broke up. Why would her life have stood still? He shouldn’t be surprised, but he’d be lying if he said it hadn’t set him back on his heels a little.

  Quit overanalyzing it, man. Just go up and surprise her before you talk yourself out of it. You didn’t drive two hours to turn around and go back.

  He pulled into the driveway and grabbed the bag from the passenger seat. He felt as nervous as the young musician who had stuttered his way through asking her out the first time. She’d been so pretty, and he’d just been a struggling guy with a dream.

  The natural stone-paved walkway made his boots sound loud as he made his way up the stairs to the front door. He hit the doorbell and positioned the bag behind him.

  His heart beat a little faster as her footsteps neared and then she opened the door.

  He took off his sunglasses and watched it register on her face who was standing in front of her.

  “Surprised?”

  “Completely,” she said. “Come in. What are you doing here?”

  She stepped back from the doorway and he followed her inside.

  I was kind of expecting one of those movie moments where you rushed into my arms because you were so excited. That was barely a good greeting if I lived in the neighborhood and stopped by, much less drove two hours to surprise you. “Our show got rescheduled because of the flooding down in Virginia Beach. You’ve been so nice to fly out the last few times to the concerts. I thought it was only fair for me to make time to come to you for a change.” Okay, now I’m just rambling.

  She stopped by the stairway. “Now, I’m completely surprised.” She looked like she wasn’t quite sure what to do, and then a whistle sounded from the kitchen. “I was just making a cup of tea. Want some?”

  “Tea? I don’t think so.” He lifted the paper bag up to his hip. “I brought the stuff to make lime sherbet freezes.”

  “You did not.” She gave him a sideways glance. “Did you really?”

  “I did.” Oh God, this sounds so hokey.

  “Come on back. The kitchen is this way. That sounds great.” She led the way through the foyer to the back of the house into the kitchen. A tea kettle spewed steam.

  “This place is really nice,” Cody said. “I know we said we weren’t going to talk about the past, but just how long have you been divorced?”

  “I don’t think that was the part of the past we meant was off-limits.” She laughed. “I didn’t even have time to change my name on all my credit cards. The easier question would be how long was I married.”

  “So how long were you married to Mr. SpaghettiO?”

  “Mr. SpaghettiO? His name was Jack Russo. How do you get spaghetti out of that?”

  “Arty told me the guy proposed to you with a wedding ring in a plate of spaghetti. Spaghetti and rings. SpaghettiOs.”

  “You’re such a goober.” She shook her head. “And Arty is an ass. That’s not the way it happened, but it only lasted three months. So I’m surprised he even told you anything about it.”

  “Three months? That’s barely a relationship, much less a marriage.”

  “I know. It was wrong from the get-go. I knew it. I shouldn’t have married him. We’d both jumped into it for the wrong reasons.”

  Cody pulled the sherbet and soda out of the bag and placed it on the island.

  Lou twisted the bottle and laughed. “Generic. Man, you went full in, didn’t ya?”

  “Like old times. Wanted to do it right.”

  “You sure did.” She took two tall glasses out of the cabinet and placed them in front of Cody.

  “Got an ice cream scoop?”

  “Sure do, in the drawer right there in front of you.”

  He dished up a couple scoops of sherbet into each glass.

  Lou opened the bottle of soda. “This was really a thoughtful surprise.”

  She poured soda slowly into the glasses. The foam rose to the top. Lou looked at Cody. “This is the best part.”

  He leaned forward and took a sip, letting the sticky lime bubbles cover his top lip.

  She gave him a peck on the lips. “Like this,” she said, licking the tasty stickiness. “Like old times.”

  No. It wasn’t the same. That was a sisterly kiss. Can’t say I didn’t try.

  She handed him a glass. “Let’s sit in the den.”

  Cody followed her into the next room and sat on the leather couch. “Nice place. Russo, spaghetti or no, sure did treat you right. This house is amazing.”

  “Oh, we never lived here in this house together.”

  “Oh, I just assumed…”

  “No. I can thank Arty for this place, and your success too, but that’s part of the past we said we’d leave in the past.”

  Can’t thank me for this. “What do you mean—”

  The phone rang and Lou jumped up from the chair. “Sorry. I’m expecting a call. I’ve got to grab that.”

  “Sure.” He sat there for a minute. The phone conversation in the next room didn’t sound like it was going to be quick, so he got up and wandered through the rooms downstairs. The art was nice. The furniture expensive.

  A sound at the front door behind him made him turn. Lou hadn’t said she was expecting anyone.

  Isn’t this awkward?

  The door swung open, and a young brunette girl walked in wearing skinny jeans and a light blue blouse. The heels on her pointy-toed shoes had to be at least three inches high but she was still a short little thing, and pretty. Very pretty. She dropped her keys on a metal platter right next to the door and then looked up and caught his stare.

  “What?” She cocked a hip and then recognition flashed in her eyes. “Hey, I know who you are. You’re Cody Tuggle.”

  “Yeah. I am. And you are?”

  “Amy, and wondering why you’re in my house?”

  “Nice to meet you, Amy.” Roommates. Maybe that explains the grand digs. “Lou’s in the other room. On the phone.”

  The girl rolled her eyes and let out a huff. “She’s always on the phone. Hope you’re not in a hurry.”

  She breezed past him toward the kitchen. A sugary-sweet aroma trailed behind her.

  Cody fell in step. “What’s in the box? It smells great.”

  She laid a white box down on the counter. “Pecan pie. It’s kind of my specialty. I work over at the bakery part-time. How do you know my mom?”

  “It was a surprise visit.” Mom? “Your mom? Who’s your mom?”

  “Who are you here visiting?”

  “Lou.”

  “That’s my mom.” Amy flashed him a no-duh kind of look. “How do you know her?”

  �
��We used to date.” This girl can’t be Lou’s daughter. “Lou’s too young to have a daughter your age. How old are you anyways?”

  “You’ll score big points with her for that comment. She loves trying to act my age.” The girl seemed flattered. “I’ll be seventeen on the ninth.”

  He didn’t have to be a math major to do that calculation in his head. He knew exactly who had been sleeping in his bed when that girl was conceived. Now that he looked closer, she did resemble Lou. He felt the blood pounding in his temples as the realization from his brain struck a nerve.

  “Sorry, I was—” Lou stopped so abruptly she nearly fell forward. The color drained from her face.

  As casually as he could manage, Cody said, “I just met Amy.”

  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me, Mom.”

  “I was thinking the same thing.” The words bit, and the betrayal from seventeen years ago when she broke his heart paled in comparison to this. “I didn’t know you had a daughter.”

  She avoided eye contact with him. “Amy, I thought you were going out of town straight from school.”

  “Don’t worry, I am. I’m not going to mess up your little date.”

  “You’re going to be late.”

  “I’ve got plenty of time, and so what if I’m late. What’s the big deal?” The girl looked between them. “Is everything cool?”

  “Yes. It’s fine.”

  “I have to go. I just forgot to get the gas card from you.”

  Lou dipped her hand in her purse and handed Amy the gas card and some cash. “Don’t speed.”

  “I won’t.” She picked up the pie and headed for the door. “Nice to meet you, Cody.” She left the room and the air between Cody and Lou hung so heavy that Cody felt like he couldn’t even breathe it.

  A tumble of confused thoughts and feelings assailed him.

  Lou straightened, but her voice held a slight trace of hysteria. “You said we weren’t going to talk about the past.”

  “Yeah, but she’s right there. Why didn’t we ever talk about this? That’s not SpaghettiO’s kid.”

  “Don’t call him that,” she snapped.

  “Why are you so upset?”

  “Because. It’s the past. I don’t want to relive it all again. I’ve moved on and things are good. I want them to stay that way.”

  Cody leaned against the counter to steady himself. “You should have told me. I could have helped.”

  “You did. Look around you. We’re very comfortable. Arty has made sure of that. I appreciate it.”

  Appreciate it? What the hell does that mean? “This isn’t about Arty. It’s about Amy. I had a right to know.”

  “This was a mistake. I knew it was.” She sighed heavily and squeezed her eyes shut for a two-count, then steadied her voice and looked him in the eye. “You didn’t have a right. It was over. Arty took care of everything.” She fingered the glass on the counter. “You probably should just go.”

  He stood there staring at her. Was there anything else to say? He didn’t even know where to begin. He took one step back. “Yeah. Okay.” I have a daughter?

  Cody stormed out of the house and slammed the door.

  He paused on the front porch for just a moment feeling totally out of it. The Thunderbird in the driveway reminded him how this all began. He got into the driver’s seat and pulled out of the driveway. As he idled down the street, a bright yellow Mustang passed by. Amy tooted the horn and waved.

  She didn’t act like she knew either. Lou, how could you have kept this from me? From her? I’d have been a good father. I loved you so much.

  He pounded his hand against the steering wheel.

  The shock was beginning to dissipate, but it was just as quickly transforming into anger. Arty. Why was Arty such a damn manipulator? That’s why he got paid the big bucks, but this wasn’t his career. It was his life.

  Images of a much younger Arty Max filled his mind. He could almost hear his smooth-talking voice as clear as he had all those years ago. He’d said, “Don’t let that girl ruin your dreams, boy. She left you. She doesn’t believe in you or understand the sacrifices you’ve made. Leave her or leave the dream. What’s it going to be?”

  Sacrifices. Yeah. I had no idea what you meant back then. I thought you meant all those weeks on the road in a van playing dives and singing over bar fights. Shit. If only.

  Arty had acted like he was there for him through those months he was so down about the breakup with Lou. He’d even had Cody move into his place for a couple of months while he worked on the new songs. Every time he’d thought of trying to renew things with Lou, Arty had reminded him what a foolish idea that was. Turns out there was a whole lot more to what Arty was trying to protect than his artist’s heart. He was probably behind Lou keeping everything a secret. It would be just like him to stick his nose in where it didn’t belong.

  I shouldn’t have listened to him. I should have talked to her. Kept in touch. But then again, his songs had said it all. He’d poured every bit of emotion he had into those songs. They’d paid off nicely too. He’d hung his heart on his sleeve and people were right there with him, hearing their own heartaches in his songs. Lou had to have known how he felt. He was sure she did, even if she’d never called or tried to contact him.

  He’d broken promises. He’d put his dreams first, but they were young. All she’d wanted was a family. Well, it looked like she got what she wanted and decided to do it without his help. Even so, if Arty had taken care of all of that like she’d said, he had no right to keep it from him all these years.

  As he got closer to Adams Grove he knew he wasn’t going to sleep until he sorted this out with Arty. He should fire him. It was the ultimate betrayal. Hell, if he could set Lou up like that and use my money without me knowing, no telling what he’s been scamming off the top all these years.

  The old Thunderbird wasn’t known for its speed, and that was probably lucky for him right now. He’d already driven an hour out of his way, but that didn’t matter now. He needed to face Arty tonight. The static on the radio was about the best Cody could get with AM on this stretch of road and that couldn’t drown out even half the stuff reeling through his mind. He wished he’d driven his motorcycle. He’d have cut this trip in half, and wouldn’t have to stop for gas, because this little ride was a heckuva gas guzzler.

  He took the next exit off the interstate to refuel. As he stood there, he couldn’t help but get madder. His success had turned Arty Max into one of the most sought after agents in the country.

  Arty might own fifteen percent of my career but he has no right to the details of my life. How could he have kept this a secret all of these years?

  He tugged the receipt from the pump and twisted the gas cap back in place. He was pissed at Arty, but Lou wasn’t free of fault either. What a fool he’d been then—and now.

  Cody got back in the car and pushed it to its limits all the way to Arty’s estate.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Kasey was glad she’d been able to freshen up and change at Pete’s parents’ house before she headed back south toward Arty’s estate near the Blue Ridge Mountains. That sure beat stopping somewhere on the way. The two-and-a-half-hour ride to northern Virginia with Pete had flown by and meeting his parents was fun. His mom had insisted on having her stay for dinner, and since Arty’s party didn’t even start until eight, it had worked out perfectly. Pete’s dad was just as big a flirt as Pete and it had been neat to see them interact. It made her wish she’d had parents like his, but then she’d never had an adult relationship with her own parents. Once she went off to college Mom and Dad had headed off to Europe, and after several long trips there, decided to make their life in Spain. Other than money and the occasional card from one place or another, they really seemed more like distant relatives these days. Grem and her stuffy house had really been all the family she’d known for the past ten years.

  I’ll never let Jake think that way of me.

  The ride to Arty’s wa
s an easy one and now that she was recognizing landmarks, she knew she was close.

  Arty Max had a reputation for representing top acts and his property was just as flashy as the talent he managed. The road back to the estate was long and windy just like she remembered it, only it looked different in the dark. The whole road was lit with so many lights that it made her feel a little like she was driving down a runway. Around the next corner there was a makeshift guard shack.

  She slowed at the giant stop sign.

  A guy with a clipboard stepped to her window. “Your name, ma’am.”

  “Kasey Phillips.” It wasn’t a clipboard, but rather an electronic tablet.

  He swept his finger across the screen, scanning the list. Then he walked around to the back of her car. It looked like he’d taken a picture of the license plate number. She watched him come back around to the side of the car. He handed her a ticket. “Thank you. You can take this road straight back and then follow the blue lights. A valet will be there to take your vehicle.”

  “Thank you.” She rolled up her window and drove on. One way in and one way out. They had this under control. When she got to the end of the blue-lit path, the valet ran to the side of her car and opened the door to help her out. “Ms. Phillips?”

  “That’s me,” she said.

  He handed her a valet ticket then lifted a leather tote bag. “I’ll put this in the backseat of your car for you. The bag and contents are a welcome gift from Arty Max. You can follow the path to the house. Enjoy your evening.”

  These guys were on the ball. “I will.”

  He pulled away from the curb and two other valets helped others with their vehicles as she started to walk away.

  Lanterns lit the grounds like giant fireflies and music filled the air. The music seemed to come from the direction of a huge tent that was set up just outside the front of the house.

  Country music. Probably new talent Arty’d just signed getting some exposure, and whoever they were, it sounded pretty good.