Page 21 of Security Breach
“Asleep in front of the television while Mom worked on dinner.”
“Typical,” he murmured. James also hated to repair anything around the house. When David began dating Emma, he had completed repairs at the Tucker house when he was home on leave.
“Dad wanted cupcakes for dessert, not the lemon pound cake Anne requested for her birthday dinner. Mom didn’t have all the ingredients to make the icing Dad preferred.”
Since Marian didn’t know how to drive and James wouldn’t go to town unless he wanted something for himself, Emma must have gone back to Seagull. She wouldn’t have wanted Anne to risk her father’s anger by leaving the house without his permission. “James wasn’t satisfied with store-bought icing?”
She shook her head. “He told Mom frequently that her only talents were cooking and cleaning, so she worked hard to keep the house perfect and provide meals that rivaled a professional chef’s.”
Hearing that stoked David’s anger at her father. His own father had treated his mother like a princess. Although David was young when his mother died, he remembered the deep love and respect his parents had for each other. After she was gone, his father continued to speak of David’s mother the same way, sharing stories and teaching his sons how to treat their own wives if they married one day.
“I didn’t want Mom or Anne to have another run-in with Dad, so I volunteered to go back to town for the ingredients Mom needed. I drove the car. If I walked, I wouldn’t have made it back in time for Mom to finish dinner on time. I hoped Dad would be too afraid I’d follow through on my threat if he hit Anne and Mom while I was gone.”
“Did anything catch your attention when you drove to town, like the black car showing up again?”
“I didn’t notice anything.”
Perhaps the killer parked a short distance away from the Tucker beach house and missed Emma driving to town. “No problems on the way back?”
Another head shake. She fell silent.
He gave her a minute, then said softly, “Finish it, Em.”
“There’s not much more I can tell you.”
“When you parked in the driveway, did you notice anything off? A car that didn’t belong in the neighborhood or someone watching the house?”
“I didn’t pay attention. I wanted Mom to have the ingredients she needed so Dad wouldn’t go ballistic.”
“Close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“Trust me.”
After a quick glance at him, Emma turned around again and complied. “Now what?”
“Let your mind drift back to that afternoon. Let the memories surface naturally. What did you think about on the return trip to the beach house?”
“I needed to be back before Dad woke up and realized I’d taken the car. He would have been furious with me and even more angry at Mom for allowing me to do it.”
“What else?”
She pressed her back tighter to his chest. “You.”
David smiled. “Good thoughts, I hope.”
“I remember thinking how much I missed you, that you would have been right at home on the beach and manning the grill for dinners instead of Mom and I doing all the cooking. You had only been gone for a month, but it felt like a lifetime since I’d seen you. I had 42 days left until my flight to San Diego.”
He kissed the rim of her ear. “I was counting down the days, too. What happened once you arrived at the beach house?”
“I climbed the stairs to the beach house.” Her muscles tightened.
“Describe the house.” If he didn’t distract her, she’d freeze up and give him what she told the feds. He needed more.
She relaxed again. “The house was three stories. Dad didn’t want his bedroom on the same level as mine and Anne’s. The house’s exterior was mint green, a color Dad despised, but no other rental was available at the same price. A balcony circled the house, connecting to the deck at the back. Stairs led from the deck to the sand.”
“You had a beachfront house.”