Welcome to Temptation/Bet Me Read online

  “I just want what’s best for you,” Liz called after him.

  “The words every son hates to hear,” he called back.

  It was a good thing he loved his mother, he thought, as he walked down the Hill to the bookstore. If he didn’t, he’d have put her in a home for the politically deranged long ago. The problem was, she’d bought too far into the Tucker legacy. His dad had been hipped on it, but that was at least understandable since he’d been raised with a box of Tucker for Mayor: More of the Same posters as a booster seat. But Liz was a Yarnell. Hill people. She should have had some proportion on politics.

  Except that she’d loved his father so very much. Phin slowed a little as he remembered them together, so wrapped up in each other and politics that they’d almost forgotten they had a son. He could remember a few times he’d had his parents’ full attention—like the day he’d told his kindergarten class he wanted to be a fireman; they’d spent hours with him that afternoon—but mostly it had been the two of them, together against the world.

  And now she was alone. He turned to look back at her and was distracted by the water tower, thrusting through the trees behind the houses.

  It was bright, bright red.

  “Oh, Christ,” he said, and walked faster to the bookstore to find out what had gone wrong this time.

  Chapter Four

  “It looks like the Whore of Babylon,” Phin told Wes later that afternoon as they sat on the bookstore porch at closing time.

  Wes said, “You should hear Stephen. He came into the station and told me Hildy had conspired with the Coreys to humiliate him.”

  “Yeah, I can see Hildy meeting two high school kids in a dark alley just to give Stephen heart failure.” Phin sighed. “Which, unfortunately, he didn’t have.”

  “Hey,” Wes said. “I told you. No death.”

  “I don’t want him to die,” Phin said. “I just want him sick enough to resign from the council and take his rubber stamp of a wife with him. He’s still trying to block the new streetlights because they’re too expensive.”

  “He’ll resign when they pry his cold dead hands from around his campaign posters,” Wes said. “Which will now read, Paint the Water Tower White and Buy Cheaper Streetlights.”

  “Forget the campaign,” Phin said. “Tell me something new.”

  “I watched Amy’s tape,” Wes said, and the way he said it made Phin pay attention. “There were a couple of interesting things on it.”

  “I don’t need any more suspense in my life,” Phin said.

  “The Garveys ran their stop sign, too,” Wes said. “Clear as day on the tape; they didn’t even do a rolling stop, just went right through.”

  “And they hit the Dempseys, so Sophie had the right of way,” Phin said. “Although they both ran the signs, so fry them both, that’s my advice.”

  “Well, there’s one other thing,” Wes said. “Stephen wasn’t driving, Virginia was.”

  Phin frowned at him. “Why would they lie about a thing like that?”

  “Don’t know,” Wes said. “I’m looking into it. But it’s interesting, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t want ‘interesting,’ ” Phin said. “I want boring and calm.” He looked away from Wes and caught sight of the water tower again, glowing like a bloodred bullet in the sun. “Why did the Coreys paint the tower red, anyway? I couldn’t find them to get any answers.”

  “They’re out painting the Whipple farmhouse,” Wes said. “And they painted it red because Stephen gave them the cheap stuff the school buys in bulk for the athletic department, and the white wouldn’t cover.”

  Phin leaned back in his chair and put his feet on the porch rail. “You know, I think I like it red. Perks the place right up. And it annoys Stephen. I can’t see a downside here.”

  “Amy and Sophie are perking the place up, too,” Wes said, and Phin kept his face expressionless.

  “Yeah, my mother thinks so. Have you got anything out of Amy yet?”

  “I’m biding my time,” Wes said.

  “I meant about the movie,” Phin said. “Your sex life is your business.”

  “It appears to be a love story,” Wes said. “Frank seems to think he’s the lead.”

  “And he’s not?”

  “Judging from what I saw Amy shoot today, that would be Rob.”

  Phin winced. “Frank’s going to be real unhappy about that.”

  “Yeah,” Wes said. “The perfect start to your midlife crisis: Your son sleeps with the woman you always wanted and takes your part in the movie you’ve been waiting for all your life.”

  “But are they shooting porn?”

  “I don’t know,” Wes said. “If they are, I hope they let me watch.”

  “That’ll be a major consolation if Stephen uses that to throw me out of office,” Phin groused. “ ‘At least Wes got to watch,’ that’s what I’ll say.”

  “You’re being irrational,” Wes said. “You haven’t even voted in the permit yet. And you said yourself, Sophie doesn’t look like the type.”

  “I changed my mind,” Phin said. “Sophie is capable of anything except changing a fuse and reading. She’s obsessed with film. I don’t think she’s ever picked up a book.”

  “The movie-quote thing? Amy says she does that when she gets nervous. It was a game they used to play when they were little.” Wes leaned back. “I get the feeling that they didn’t have a great childhood.”

  “I can tell you that sometime during it, somebody like me did a job on Sophie,” Phin said. “She spits every time she sees me.”

  “Maybe she just doesn’t like you,” Wes said, and Phin said, “Thank you. I’m sure that’s it.”

  Wes stood up. “Got you mad, did I? Good. Let’s play pool. Maybe I can beat you, now that you’re distracted.”

  “Don’t count on it.” Phin stood up. “You going to look into this Stephen thing?”

  “Have to,” Wes said. “Insurance companies like to have the whole story. And so do I. I’m thorough. Which reminds me, we’re going to the Tavern tonight.”

  “On a Friday?” Phin thought about the development crowd that came in on Fridays. He liked his bars quiet and dark. “I don’t think so.”

  “You’re driving,” Wes said. “So you can leave and strand me there, and I can catch a ride home with Amy.”

  Phin closed his eyes. “I have to go through this hell so you can get laid?”

  “No,” Wes said. “I just want to get closer.”

  “She’s leaving on Sunday,” Phin said.

  “She’s just going back to Cincinnati,” Wes said. “I can drive an hour to make my move. Nine o’clock. You can tuck Dill in and then go play with Sophie.”

  Sophie. “And I’d want to play with Sophie because she’s so warm and cuddly? No.”

  “Just play with her until I hook up with Amy,” Wes said. “We’re buddies. You’re supposed to come through for me.”

  Sophie. And that mouth. “I’ll pick you up at nine,” Phin said. “No earlier. There’s only so much Tavern and Sophie I can stand.”

  When Rachel got home, her mother was sitting at their red-checked-plastic-covered kitchen table, snapping beans, waiting for her as always.

  “Hello, baby,” Virginia said, “I ran into Georgia Lutz today,” and Rachel thought, Uh-oh. “She told me what a good job you were doing at the Whipple Farm. I’m not sure that’s a good place for you to be.” Rachel started to protest and Virginia added, “But your father seems to think it’s a good idea, so I guess it’s fine.”

  “Daddy does?” That couldn’t be right.

  “I called him after I talked to Georgia, and he said we should let you go out there. He seemed pleased.”

  That definitely couldn’t be right.

  “And that nice Sophie said they were going home on Sunday,” Virginia said. “So you won’t be out there that much anyway.”

  Rachel eyed her mother and risked her next move. “Sophie’s going back to Cincinnati, but Amy’s not. I’m sort