expression, she led Finn to the media room, a state-of-the-art haven filled with big-screen TV, two VCRs, a stereo system, and a computer.
Finn glanced around the room and whistled. "Your boyfriend really knew how to spend his money."
A flash of anger spiked through the nerve-wracking anticipation. She was tired of the innuendo and disdain in his voice every time he mentioned Beamer. "Stop calling him that."
"What-your boyfriend? He was, wasn't he?"
For a minute, she thought of telling him everything, then decided not to. Her arrangement with Arthur Bea-man was none of Finn's business. "He was a wonderful man and he had a name. Why can't you use it?"
"Fine. Didn't mean to upset your sensitive feelings." He put the tape into the VCR, turned on the TV, then joined her on the leather sofa facing it. She tried to swallow, but her mouth had dried up. On the screen, Carol Bo-rian glided into view.
She was carrying a platter of cookies, blushing into the camera and trying to avoid the lens, but the camera operator followed her.
"I don't like having my picture taken." She put down the plate and covered her face with her hands. Her voice was soft and feminine, tinged with the rolling sounds of the South.
"Go on, shoo." She laughed into the camera, then scurried out of the frame. The picture went dark. Angelina stared at the blank screen, overcome by the image of her mother made suddenly real and alive. She grabbed the remote, rewound the tape, and played it again. And a third time. That was her mother's voice. Her mother's laugh. My God. Angelina's hands shook and she buried them in her lap so Finn wouldn't see.
The tape scrolled to black and she sat there unable to say a word. Finn, too, was silent, as if he understood the enormity of the moment and respected it.
"She seems so... so ordinary," Angelina said at last.
Finn nodded. "Maybe she was."
"Hard to believe."
"Believe it."
His arrogant certainty hit a nerve. "Why, because you say so? I'd sooner believe a gangster than take the word of a cop."
"Not all of us are like Sheriff Dodd of Ruby, Texas."
She gasped and her head snapped up, the sound of that long-ago nightmare name coining out of his mouth like a specter suddenly floating in the room. Mouth dry, she could barely make her tongue form words. "What the hell do you know about him?"
"I know about him and his nephew, Andy Blake, all-star quarterback for the Ruby Warriors. And 1 know about the beautiful young honor student Andy Blake took to Homecoming and later raped at the hooker hotel on the edge of town."
The words slammed into her like a shock wave, their impact creating a curtain of silence asound her. No one knew about that. No one except Arthur Beaman.
She looked down at her lap, unable to meet Finn's gaze. "That's... that's not what happened. Not according to the sheriff. Not according to anyone in Ruby." Not even Adele, her so-called mother.
"Date rape is hard to prove." His voice was soft and gentle. "Especially if the guy is the town's biggest asset and the girl is a nobody."
A fierce pain wrenched her heart. God, she didn't want to feel that way ever again. She raised her head, glaring at him. "I don't like you spying on me, Sharkman."
He shrugged. "We don't run blind. We did a background check on you. Standard procedure. Besides, you do such a good job of telling the world what a loose piece of change you are, you make people think Sheriff Dodd and Andy Blake were right."
She narrowed her eyes. How dare he? "What do you know about it? About me? Zero."
For a minute she saw something move in his face. Pity? Tenderness? No, not Finn Carver.
"You're right," he said. "I don't know a thing." His penetrating blue gaze lingered on her a moment longer, then he rose and nodded to the TV screen. "Add that to your homework." Just then he took out his cell phone, which must have been set to vibrate as she didn't hear it.
"Carver." He said the one terse word, then listened. A stubborn look came over his
Finn glanced around the room and whistled. "Your boyfriend really knew how to spend his money."
A flash of anger spiked through the nerve-wracking anticipation. She was tired of the innuendo and disdain in his voice every time he mentioned Beamer. "Stop calling him that."
"What-your boyfriend? He was, wasn't he?"
For a minute, she thought of telling him everything, then decided not to. Her arrangement with Arthur Bea-man was none of Finn's business. "He was a wonderful man and he had a name. Why can't you use it?"
"Fine. Didn't mean to upset your sensitive feelings." He put the tape into the VCR, turned on the TV, then joined her on the leather sofa facing it. She tried to swallow, but her mouth had dried up. On the screen, Carol Bo-rian glided into view.
She was carrying a platter of cookies, blushing into the camera and trying to avoid the lens, but the camera operator followed her.
"I don't like having my picture taken." She put down the plate and covered her face with her hands. Her voice was soft and feminine, tinged with the rolling sounds of the South.
"Go on, shoo." She laughed into the camera, then scurried out of the frame. The picture went dark. Angelina stared at the blank screen, overcome by the image of her mother made suddenly real and alive. She grabbed the remote, rewound the tape, and played it again. And a third time. That was her mother's voice. Her mother's laugh. My God. Angelina's hands shook and she buried them in her lap so Finn wouldn't see.
The tape scrolled to black and she sat there unable to say a word. Finn, too, was silent, as if he understood the enormity of the moment and respected it.
"She seems so... so ordinary," Angelina said at last.
Finn nodded. "Maybe she was."
"Hard to believe."
"Believe it."
His arrogant certainty hit a nerve. "Why, because you say so? I'd sooner believe a gangster than take the word of a cop."
"Not all of us are like Sheriff Dodd of Ruby, Texas."
She gasped and her head snapped up, the sound of that long-ago nightmare name coining out of his mouth like a specter suddenly floating in the room. Mouth dry, she could barely make her tongue form words. "What the hell do you know about him?"
"I know about him and his nephew, Andy Blake, all-star quarterback for the Ruby Warriors. And 1 know about the beautiful young honor student Andy Blake took to Homecoming and later raped at the hooker hotel on the edge of town."
The words slammed into her like a shock wave, their impact creating a curtain of silence asound her. No one knew about that. No one except Arthur Beaman.
She looked down at her lap, unable to meet Finn's gaze. "That's... that's not what happened. Not according to the sheriff. Not according to anyone in Ruby." Not even Adele, her so-called mother.
"Date rape is hard to prove." His voice was soft and gentle. "Especially if the guy is the town's biggest asset and the girl is a nobody."
A fierce pain wrenched her heart. God, she didn't want to feel that way ever again. She raised her head, glaring at him. "I don't like you spying on me, Sharkman."
He shrugged. "We don't run blind. We did a background check on you. Standard procedure. Besides, you do such a good job of telling the world what a loose piece of change you are, you make people think Sheriff Dodd and Andy Blake were right."
She narrowed her eyes. How dare he? "What do you know about it? About me? Zero."
For a minute she saw something move in his face. Pity? Tenderness? No, not Finn Carver.
"You're right," he said. "I don't know a thing." His penetrating blue gaze lingered on her a moment longer, then he rose and nodded to the TV screen. "Add that to your homework." Just then he took out his cell phone, which must have been set to vibrate as she didn't hear it.
"Carver." He said the one terse word, then listened. A stubborn look came over his
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