Rebels and Roses (Winslow Heights #2)

Chapter 13

13

J ane had grown up in a relatively normal middle-class home. Three bedrooms and two bathrooms with a two-car garage. They usually took a vacation every other year that consisted of a hellscape road trip to a relative’s home in some other state. It wasn’t always the same relative, but somehow, she’d always end up with a sleeping bag in the basement. When they didn’t do a road trip, they went camping which Jane also hated. Mosquitos loved her but hated the rest of her family. She’d end up covered in itchy bites, and her mother would rub calamine lotion on her and say that it wasn’t that bad.

It was all part of the fun.

She hadn’t received a car on her sixteenth birthday or a trip to Europe. She’d driven her grandmother’s old Buick that could only be described as a family heirloom. There had been holes in the floorboards, and the heater didn’t work well. She’d had a fast-food job in high school, and later paid her own college tuition while working full-time in retail. She didn’t own anything with a designer label.

In other words, Jane didn’t come from money.

Not once in her life had she ever had more than she needed. She was always counting her pennies before payday and squeezing her nickels until those buffaloes hollered. She was the queen of living frugally, and even when she’d been married and her husband made a decent wage, they hadn’t been awash in cash since he didn’t want her to work.

Needless to say, she’d never been to a fancy dinner like this one. The china and crystal gleamed, the flower centerpieces lush, and she’d bet a week’s salary that the flatware was solid silver. If she hit someone with her fork, she might do some serious damage. She was also terrified of spilling her wine on the crisp, white-as-snow linens on the table.

This was some fancy-shmancy dinner party.

Luckily, she wasn’t called on to speak all that much. Fiona was doing most of the talking, occasionally taking a breath long enough for Erica to say a few words. The latter didn’t smile or laugh, simply picking at her food and appearing close to tears most of the evening. Why she’d agreed to come to this dinner party, Jane didn’t have a clue. She clearly didn’t want to be there or to answer questions about her now deceased fiancé.

In the beginning of the evening, Jane could see how Cooper could have been charmed by Fiona, if one ignored her drinking like a fish. When she wasn’t tipsy, she was intelligent, with a razor-sharp wit. Well-read and traveled, she seemed to know a little about everything. She was certainly a beautiful woman as well, her clothes, hair, and jewelry understated but expensive. What was that old saying?

Money talks, but wealth whispers.

Kimberly, Cooper’s aunt and stepmother, attempted to engage Jane and Lucy in conversation, asking about the bookstore. Joel, on the other hand, would quickly change the subject back to whatever he wanted - mostly he wanted his children to talk. But Joel’s idea of a conversation was to grill them like a police detective in a black-and-white gangster film from the thirties. His son Sam had barely answered one question, when Joel was asking another and another. He never seemed to like the answers either. So far, he’d managed to piss off Tate, Sam, Zack, and Cooper with Kim trying to smooth it all over.

“You should come into the office, Cooper,” Joel said. “Get a feel for the place. Attend some meetings. You might find a department you’re interested in.”

“Zack and I are busy these days,” Cooper replied. “The movie theater is going to be ready to open in about a month.”

“That’s fine for a hobby, but you need a real career.”

“I’m fine, Dad. What do you think about the Bears this year? Think they could go all the way?”

“No,” Joel shot back immediately. “You need some direction.”

Fiona was choking slightly, her napkin in front of her mouth.

“Cooper has more going on than you might imagine, Joel.”

A knot in Jane’s stomach made itself known, and she had a terrible, awful suspicion that Fiona was about to say something. Something that few people knew. None of Cooper’s siblings had a clue. Lucy didn’t know either.

It was like watching a slow-motion car crash right in front of you. You couldn’t stop it from happening, and there was no time to cushion the blow. It was going to be an all-out collision, and she could only sit by and watch the horror unfold in front of her.

“He does need to have a career,” Joel roared, pushing back his chair from the dinner table. “He’s too old to be living like an aimless teenager.”

It was far too late to stop it. Fiona had a gleam in her eye, as if she knew she was causing a rash of shit, but she was enjoying the hell out of it. It was all Jane could do not to launch herself across the table and wrestle the other woman to the floor.

“This whole situation is hilarious when you really think about it,” Fiona said, a smug smile on her perfectly made-up face. Her gaze was pinned on Cooper, as if daring him to stop her. “They don’t have a clue that you’re S.S. Cooper, the world-famous mystery writer. They all think you’re a great big loser. When you’re possibly the most successful of all. It’s ironic.”

There was a stunned silence in the dining room before Cooper stood and took Fiona’s arm, steering her out onto the verandah, leaving them all sitting there around the table. No one knew what to say.

Lucy had a look on her face, her gaze on Jane. There was a knowledge there. She suspected that Jane already knew.

I was probably the only one who didn’t look shocked. Shit.

“How about some coffee and dessert in the living room?” Kim asked, pasting a bright smile on her face even as her husband was muttering under his breath. “Shall we?”

“Is it true?” Joel demanded, looking at his oldest son Zack. “Is what she said true?”

“This is the first I’m hearing of it, too,” Zack said with a careless shrug. “But Cooper has never failed to surprise me. It might be true.”

Joel Winslow didn’t look thrilled that Cooper wasn’t the deadbeat that he’d thought. If anything, he was angrier than ever, his face red and his eyes narrowed almost to slits.

He might explode at any moment. Should we clear the blast zone?

Tate, on the other hand, was smiling like he’d won the lottery. What in the fresh hell?

Somehow, Kim managed to herd them into the living room, fussing over dessert plates with cheesecake and fresh berries. Tate was sipping a coffee, still smiling, and Jane couldn’t stop herself from asking why he was so damn happy.

“It explains a lot,” Tate whispered, pulling her into a quiet corner of the room away from everyone else. “His phone calls, his constant use of his laptop, other things. I knew he had something going but I thought it might be investing or something like that. I should have known it was writing. Cooper had a knack for telling stories when we were kids. I guess you’ve known for a while.”

“I didn’t look surprised?”

“Not in the least,” Tate confirmed. “And can I say that I think Cooper has finally chosen a woman that we can all cheer about? You two make a terrific couple.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

“I know how he looks at you,” Tate replied. “I don’t need to know anything else.”

“Your father looks murderously angry. Where did he go? Is he going out there to confront Cooper?”

“Nope,” Tate scoffed. “He’d never do that. Dad has retreated into his office, and there he will stay for hours pacing and bitching to no one in particular. Later, he’ll pretend he knew all along. That’s how Dad works. But clearly, this is going to change things. Whatever plan my dad had cooked up to get Cooper gainfully employed at the family business isn’t going to work out. He’ll have to come up with Plan B.”

“Should we go stop Cooper from killing Fiona? He didn’t look happy either.”

“They’re fine. He’ll probably yell, Fiona will laugh and then maybe start crying if she thinks he’ll feel sorry for her. At least that’s what I think will happen, based on what Cooper has told me about his marriage. Nothing bad will happen. Stay here and have some dessert.”

“How can you eat at a time like this?”

“Sweetheart, this is nothing. You should see the family when we all really get wound up.”

That was something Jane hoped she’d never see.

Cooper wasn’t a violent man. He didn’t believe it helped any situation, and he’d made a practice of mostly just walking away when he was angry.

Tonight, however, he hadn’t done that.

He could have. He could have grabbed Jane’s hand and simply left his father’s home. No one would have thought much about it because it was a shock that he was there in the first place. But he hadn’t done that since he still hadn’t figured out why Fiona and Erica had been invited to dinner.

But…he was beginning to have a few suspicions. Now he needed to know if he was right.

“You’ve tipped your hand, Fi,” Cooper said when they were outside. “You better start talking.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Fiona said, rolling her eyes. “I’m sorry about telling your little secret. It just came out unexpectedly, and then I couldn’t backpedal. Are you very angry?”

“No, I was planning on telling them eventually. I don’t care that the secret is out. But you didn’t do it on accident. I saw your expression right before. You did it on purpose. The question is why? Why did you do it? For what reason? Just to make me mad? I don’t think so. There has to be something else.”

Fiona giggled at his questions, that self-satisfied smile back on her face.

“I don’t know about that. Making you angry is kind of fun.” She reached out and ran her fingernail along his jaw. “Remember the make-up sex after a big fight? It was always better with a little fire in the furnace, right? How about we go back to my hotel, and we can make up from our little spat?”

Cooper jerked his head away, distaste on his tongue. Fiona might be a beautiful woman on the outside, but the inside needed major work.

“We are never going to get back together,” Cooper stated. “Not going to happen. Not in this lifetime or any other.”

“Because of that woman you brought to dinner? What’s her name? Jean? Janice? Jolene?”

“It’s Jane, and you know it. Stop acting like a bitch. It’s not your best look, Fi. It never was, to be honest.”

“Jane. Such a sweet name,” Fiona simpered. “Are you in love with her? Or is she just another in a long line of women since our divorce?”

That sentence made Cooper smile. Was she that delusional?

“Are you under the impression that I’m going from woman to woman because I’m heartbroken? That I can’t find another woman like you? That only you will ever make me happy? I can assure you that I’m not carrying a torch. I’ve moved on, and I hope you have, too.”

“With Jane?”

“Yes, with Jane.”

“Are you? In love with her?”

Fiona’s tone was challenging, but the curiosity was real. She truly wanted to know the answer to a question that Cooper had barely asked himself.

“Jane is the most amazing woman I’ve ever met in my life. She’s far too good for me, and I’m lucky to have her in my life.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“It isn’t any of your business.”

“Cooper, it was just a simple question,” Fiona said, feigning surprise. “But you’re definitely avoiding answering. It certainly makes me think that she’s just one of the crowd. You fuck her, but you married me.”

Fiona was pushing him to get a reaction. He didn’t want to give her one, but damn, she was pushing his buttons.

“Leave Jane out of this. This discussion isn’t about her. This is about you, and what you’re doing here tonight.”

“Your parents invited me to dinner.”

Kim wasn’t his parent.

“And you said yes. Why?”

“I think your dad is funny, and I wanted to meet your new stepmother.”

“No one on this earth thinks my dad is funny.” Realization hit Cooper hard, and he began to laugh as it became much clearer. “You and Dad. You’re up to something again.”

“Again? What do you mean? I barely know your dad.”

Fiona was a terrible actress. He’d known her too long to be fooled.

“You and Dad had a deal years ago. Did he propose something new to you tonight? Christ, Fiona. You didn’t say yes, did you? You can’t trust my father.”

He’d shocked his ex-wife. Good.

“Years—Wait?—”

“Did you think I didn’t know?” Cooper mocked. “Of course, I did. My dad wanted to keep an eye on me when I was traveling. He’s a friend of your dad. There’s a beautiful daughter who just happens to show up where I’m staying and makes a point to talk to me. Damn, do you think I’m stupid? I knew you had to be a plant and were reporting back to my dad.”

Her expression stricken, she seemed to be having trouble forming words.

“I—I—It’s not what you think.”

“It’s exactly what I think, Fi,” Cooper laughed. “I always knew, and I never cared. I didn’t care then what Joel knew about me and my life, and I don’t care now. He isn’t a factor in my decision-making.”

“You…married me.”

“I was in love with you at the time. And hell, why shouldn’t you make some cash from my old man? He’s got plenty of it.”

“I stopped once we fell in love. Why didn’t you say anything?”

Her voice was soft, but firm. He believed her, for some strange reason.

“Because it didn’t matter. It was funny to me that he was that desperate to keep tabs on me. And I also thought that if you had to decide between me and him, you’d choose me.”

“I would. I’d choose you. I mean, I did choose you.”

“It all doesn’t matter anymore. Is that why he invited you here? Is that why you arrived before me? Did he offer you another deal? What is it this time? I assume you dropped the news about my author career for a reason. Was it to make a point or something? To me and Dad?”

This would be in character for Joel Winslow. He liked to treat everyone around him like they were pawns in a life-size Monopoly game.

“He—He did…offer me another deal. He wanted me to get you to reconcile, and then bring you back into the family fold. I told him no, of course. He was angry about it, so I told about your job. I wanted him to see that you - and me - can’t be bought.”

“He was mad? That doesn’t sound like my dad.”

“Well, he didn’t yell about it. But I could tell that he wasn’t happy.”

“And that’s why you told everyone about my being S.S. Cooper?”

“Yes, and I am sorry about that. I was just mad, too, I guess.”

Cooper wasn’t quite buying Fiona’s story. It didn’t truly matter why she’d done it. It had happened, and it couldn’t be undone so the why was a moot point. He didn’t trust Fiona completely, however. One of the reasons they’d divorced was her casual relationship with the truth.

That and her narcissism.

“Why did you wait for dinner? Why didn’t you tell him when you talked to him alone?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t think of it then. I only thought about it when I saw you. Are you very angry with me?”

“Not really. It’s a drop of rain in a bucket. By tomorrow, no one will care. It doesn’t change anything about me except that I can pay my own bills.”

“Hey, brother,” Tate called from the doorway. “Finn is here. He has news about Tom Kemp.”

Already? The coroner hadn’t wasted any time.

Cooper couldn’t wait to hear what Finn had to say.

Finn’s arrival helped alleviate some of the awkward tension in the living room while Cooper and Fiona were outside. Tate had assured Jane that this was par for the course in the Winslow family, and it wasn’t a huge deal.

“We need to talk,” Lucy had said, taking a bite of her cheesecake. She didn’t look mad, just curious. “You knew. I could see it in your eyes.”

“I did,” Jane admitted. “But I found out by accident. Cooper was talking about a plot point in an S.S. Cooper book, and I realized that it had never happened. I quizzed him mercilessly, and he finally admitted it all and that it was a plot point for his upcoming release. He’d forgotten that it hadn’t been released to the public yet. He asked me to keep it a secret. I said yes.”

“You’ve been keeping a lot of secrets lately.”

“I swear I don’t have any more. My life is generally boring and monotonous.”

Before Lucy could question Jane further, Finn had arrived. In uniform, it appeared that he was still on duty. He had information for Fiona and Erica from the coroner’s report.

“That was quick,” Cooper said when he rejoined the group, shaking Finn’s hand.

“It was a straightforward process,” Finn explained. “I wanted to give the news as soon as I had it.”

The sheriff was holding a folder which he held out to Fiona and Erica. Neither of them reached out for it.

“This is the paperwork I need you to sign so we can release Tom’s body to you. There is also a copy of the coroner’s report. Tom Kemp died from an overdose of fentanyl. I’m very sorry for your loss. Drug-related deaths are tragic, especially with someone so young.”

“Fentanyl?” Fiona repeated. “My brother didn’t do fentanyl. He did have a drug problem. I’ll admit that, but he didn’t take fentanyl.”

“Unfortunately, fentanyl is used to cut other drugs, mainly heroin, not cocaine. It was probably cross-contamination. When a dealer measures out fentanyl, some might be left behind on the scale. Then he measures out cocaine, and it gets contaminated.”

“Wouldn’t they notice the fentanyl still on the scale?” Jane asked.

“The amount of fentanyl needed to overdose is tiny, like the amount you might get with a finger swipe over a surface,” Finn explained. “We don’t think the drug was laced on purpose. Generally, drug dealers want to keep their customers alive, because dead people don’t buy drugs. We believe it was an accidental overdose.”

Fiona pressed her hands to her face, shaking her head as if in denial.

“As I said, I’m so sorry for your loss, ma’am. If there is anything we can do to help you transfer the deceased, please let us know. I’m sure this is a difficult time for you.”

Erica sat on a chair, still appearing stunned by the news. Fiona rested a hand on the other woman’s shoulder before leaning down to whisper in her ear. Erica nodded as a few silvery tears rolled down her cheeks.

“I guess I don’t understand,” Erica said. “Tom was clean when he left Denver. He hadn’t used for months. He was quitting all of that.”

“Drug addicts are good at hiding what they’re doing,” Finn replied gently. “I am sorry.”

“This just doesn’t make any sense.” Erica shook her head, her hands furled into tight fists. “He was seeing a counselor. He’d been clean for a long time. Sure, he still drank, but he’d stayed away from cocaine since January. We both said it was a new beginning for us. We were going to get married. Start a family. None of this can be right.”

Jane’s heart ached for the young woman who didn’t want to believe that her Prince Charming had been lying to her for who knows how long. Tom’s addiction had short-circuited all their plans and dreams. Instead of planning a wedding, they’d be planning a funeral.

“Erica, would you like me to take you back to the hotel?” Cooper offered. “Perhaps I can help you fill out the forms.”

“That’s a good idea,” Fiona said. “I think the evening has come to an end. We need some time to take in this news. I also need to call my parents.”

“We can take Jane home,” Lucy said. “The hotel is in the other direction.”

Cooper hadn’t been paying any attention to Jane, but now his gaze swung in her direction. His expression was enigmatic, however, and she couldn’t tell if he was happy or sad.

“That’s a good idea,” Jane replied. “Okay, Zack?”

“Fine with me,” Zack said with a nod. “Call me if you need anything, Coop.”

It had been quite an evening at the Winslow home. Jane couldn’t be petty about Cooper helping out his ex-wife when her brother had died so tragically. He’d shown no desire to get back with Fiona. And he’d brought Jane here with him tonight.

Confused. That’s what she was.

Just what was she to Cooper? And what was he to her?

She’d better figure it out quick before she got her heart broken into a million pieces.