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And although Waverley wasn’t sure what was the truth and what was a lie anymore, she did know one thing. Tracie didn’t know anything more than Waverley did about Spencer’s whereabouts. Maybe never would.
She looked at Tracie now with something that felt like pity. “I feel bad for you, Tracie. Living your life waiting for something that’s never going to happen. If I were you, I’d try to let Spencer go and just focus on all the blessings you have.”
“Spencer and I are going to be together,” she repeated sharply, trying to convince either Waverley or herself or both.
There wasn’t anything more for her to say. “I’m going to go join the group,” Waverley said and turned, leaving the woman alone.
She supposed at least one good thing was going to come from all this.
She’d never have any reason to pretend that she and Tracie had ever been friends and would never have to see the woman again after leaving today.
Chapter 23
“I’m so sorry, Waverley,” Reynolds said as he gazed at the woman sitting listlessly on the bed.
He’d known something had happened when she reappeared from below deck earlier, but he’d bided his time and waited to ask her once they returned to their room to pack. He never expected to hear what she’d told him. The extent of Spencer’s deception was staggering as was the damage he’d caused to Waverley.
He went over and sat on the bed, ready to pull her into his arms and offer her whatever comfort he could, but as he reached for her, she turned away. “I’m fine. I’m fine. Let’s just get to the airport.”
He clenched his hands, wanting to push it, to make her accept his comfort, but also realizing the wisdom in what she said. Once they were back in Colorado, maybe even on the drive home, he could find the right words to reach her.
“I’ll go pull the car around and meet you out front in a few minutes.”
She nodded and stood almost wearily as she continued to pack the last few things. The faster they could get out of here, the better.
Outside, Reynolds looked at the vast estate. What would owning a place like this do to a person? Would they become entitled, self-centered jerks like Spencer and his friends, or could you still maintain a sense of compassion and empathy for others like Waverley?
Would the excited little guy who’d played Go Fish with Waverley yesterday stay a sweet, gentle kid, or was it inevitable he’d turn into someone like Spencer and Tracie?
It only followed that his thoughts would turn to what a kid with Waverley as a mom and—for argument’s sake—himself as the father would be like.
Instantly, a little girl with blonde hair like Waverley’s and a little boy with dark brown hair like his came to mind.
They’d be good kids. The best. Without a doubt.
And for a moment, he savored the warm, rolling emotions of happiness and contentedness that the image of that little family conjured.
He was so lost in those thoughts as he headed to where the rental car was parked around the side of the house that he almost missed the flash of movement to his left. He stared, certain he’d caught a glimpse of a blue cap now heading toward the boat dock.
No way. It couldn’t be this easy.
It also wasn’t something he was going to risk missing, just in case, and he broke into a run. He reached the open area where he’d seen the movement and looked around, staying on alert. There was a snap of twigs straight ahead, and he took off again, ready to tackle whoever it was first, asking questions after, when something collided into him, the force taking the air from his chest as he landed on the ground and a solid mass dropped on top of him.
He tried to push the weight off and knew without having to see the smug face who had tackled him. A fist caught him in the head, and he wrapped an arm around the guy’s upper body and rolled to the left, bringing the guy with him.
Having lost the deadweight, he leaped to his feet and squared off with the man who’d brought Waverley so much pain. “Thought you were supposed to be on your way to the Bahamas.”
“For the right amount, you can pay anyone to report what you want them to report.” Spencer shook his head. “You just don’t know when to quit.”
“I could say the same. You would save everyone if you just turned yourself in and faced the music.”
“Never going to happen. I notice that you’ve gotten cozy with my wife. Did you envy my life so much that you wanted to get a little taste of what it was like to be me?” he asked and jabbed for Reynolds’s head, barely missing.
“Believe me, being you doesn’t interest me. A guy who cheats on his wife, steals from her, not to mention stealing from his own sister. You know they’re going to throw your sister out of that home, right? Do you care so little about everyone you would see them destroyed to save your own skin?”
He laughed. “You think I care about Ginny? Hell, my whole life was about her and making sure she was protected and cared for. She’ll do just as fine in a state institution as the ritzy place she’s staying now. Probably won’t even notice a difference.”
“You callous son of a bitch,” Reynolds said as he swung and had the gratifying feeling of connecting with the guy’s jaw. He moved forward to follow up with another blow, but Spencer was fast and moved a few feet away.
