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“She didn’t stay at all.” Maybe because she felt as though she knew him after their time together the day before, Phyllis found herself being open about something she normally wouldn’t have shared with him.
“Do you know Tory Sanders?”
“The woman who taught English last fall, posing as her dead sister?”
“Yeah. Her sister, Christine, was my best friend. She was on her way out here from Boston, where we’re all from, bringing Tory with her. She was killed in a car accident in New Mexico.”
His eyes narrowed. And softened
. “I’m sorry.”
Phyllis blinked away her tears. “Me, too.”
“What happened?”
Tired suddenly, Phyllis sat down on the twin bed that had remained empty all those months Tory had been with her. Christine’s bed.
“You want the official story or the real one?”
He took a seat on the corner of the opposite bed, his hands resting on his thighs. “The real one.”
“Tory was divorced, on the run from an abusive ex-husband, whose daddy had been buying his way out of trouble his entire life,” Phyllis related, going back to those months in Boston when she’d ached right along with Christine as they waited for word from Tory. “Her ex was rich, spoiled, used to getting whatever he wanted. And he wanted Tory. She’d escape, hide in some small town or other, but he’d always find her. And he’d punish her for going every time.”
Matt’s lips thinned. “Even after they were divorced?”
“Especially after they were divorced. He was more desperate then.”
Matt nodded.
“He also made it very clear that he’d rather see her dead than with another man. He’d always been insanely jealous. He’d even forbidden her from entering college because he didn’t trust her around all the young jocks.”
“He was older than she was?”
“Quite a bit. Tory was barely out of high school when she married him.”
“And her parents approved?”
“Her mother was dead. And her stepfather—that’s a whole other story. Suffice it to say, the stepfather died serving a life sentence.”
“The world’s filled with bastards like that.”
“Or at least the prisons are. Anyway, Christine got the teaching job out here so she could get Tory away from Bruce. It didn’t work. He caught up with them in New Mexico, ran their car off the road, killing Christine and injuring Tory pretty badly, too.”
“They got him, I hope?”
Phyllis sneered. “Yeah, right. The ruling was accidental death. One car. No one at fault.”
Matt sat forward, his gaze intent. “So he’s still out there, looking for Tory?”
“No.” Phyllis shook her head. “The hospital officials thought Tory was the sister who’d been killed. Bruce was smart enough to stay away from the crime scene himself, but he sent some guys to verify the pronouncement. He had Tory trailed for months, but when he was finally satisfied that she really was Christine, he killed himself. Despite all the agony he put her through, he couldn’t face living without her.”
“God, what a mess.”
“Yeah.” Some people just weren’t made for romantic love, Phyllis knew. Couldn’t handle the negative emotions that came along with the bliss. Bruce, Tory’s husband, had been one of those people.
Phyllis was another.
“You miss her a lot.”
