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Stormy reminded herself that being a parent did have its good days. She was ready for one.
Tyler announced his return by tossing a bundle onto the table, loudly displacing the salt and pepper shakers. Nearby, diners looked up, startled. Stormy winced.
Liane suddenly sat up straight. “That looks just like Hadley’s.”
“It is just like Hadley’s,” Tyler said of the denim hip pack. “You have a good memory.”
“He wore it when he took us to Walt Disney World, didn’t he, Mom?”
Stormy felt as if her whole world had just collapsed, “Liane, be quiet!”
Tyler’s gaze was riveted on Stormy. “I finally guessed, you know. You barely allow Liane out of your sight. I couldn’t fathom your going off to Epcot Center and Walt Disney World without her—yet there wasn’t a single line in the trial transcripts that referred to Liane.”
“I didn’t see the robbery,” Liane volunteered. “’Cause I was asleep in the back seat.”
Tyler lifted the pack off the table, put it in the vacant chair beside him, and signaled the waitress.
“I’m not going to be able to eat,” Stormy said.
Tyler ordered white wine and the luncheon special for them both, a kiddie dinner and soft drink for Liane—and all the while, Stormy was shaking her head.
“It’s good to feed your tension,” Tyler said once the waitress left with their order.
“Oh, look!” Liane exclaimed. Outside on the terrace, a busboy was setting out kitchen scraps for a trio of cats. “May I go out and watch?” she asked.
Stormy gave her permission. “Just on the terrace, where I can see you,” she cautioned.
Liane was up and out the door in a flash.
Stormy returned her attention to Tyler, who held up his hands as if to deflect a blow.
“I was going to wait until Liane was out of earshot, but you were in such a hurry—”
Stormy leaned forward, the tendons in her neck taut. “Do you know what could happen if it became common knowledge that Liane was involved? On top of everything else, I’d have to fight charges of being an unfit mother. I could lose my daughter. The state casts a very dim eye on parents who take their children along on—” She abruptly stopped talking while their wine was poured.
“I understand,” Tyler said.
“You don’t,” she said with unmerciful firmness.
“I do,” he insisted quietly. “When Priss died, we were subjected to a very thorough investigation. I meant it when I said I have your best interests at heart.”
“You have a peculiar way of showing it.”
“I had to find out what you were hiding from me.”
“And now that you know?”
“It’s over and done with.”
Confused, Stormy leaned back in her chair. “Then what was the purpose of going to the bank?”
Tyler indicated the pack. “Take a peek.”
Stormy reached over, unzipped the bag, looked in, and jerked back. “It’s full of money!”
“Don’t get excited. It’s mine.”
Stormy eyed Liane and saw that she was safely in view, albeit down on her knees, trying to coax a calico cat to take a scrap from her fingers while the busboy looked on.
