Chapter 6: The Woman He Saved

Jocelyn Valerie looked at me as though Rook had just announced I’d inherited the clubhouse. “You’re thinking of staying?” she asked. The reception had been winding down, and I’d been looking forward to getting Dad somewhere quiet. Now Valerie stood beside our table with her hand resting on Rook’s neck, waiting for an answer she had no business demanding. “I said I might extend my visit,” I replied. “I haven’t made any decisions.” “But your career is in Chicago.” Her voice held that familiar, concerned sweetness. “You’ve worked so hard to build a life there. It would be a shame to disrupt it over all this.” All this. My stepbrother’s funeral, my father’s grief, and the unanswered questions surrounding Luke’s death. I wasn’t sure which part she considered too insignificant to justify a few extra days. “My firm will survive without me for a week,” I said. Valerie glanced toward Brian, who had just come through the doorway. “Well, I’m sure the boys will appreciate seeing you before you leave.” Rook was still watching me. I gathered my purse, leaving his candy beside my plate, and ended the conversation as politely as I could manage. Valerie called after him before he could follow me, and I was grateful for the distraction. Dad sat by the window with his jacket folded across his lap. He’d barely touched the food I’d brought him, and he looked more exhausted than he had during the service. I pulled out the chair beside him and reached for his hand. “Want me to take you home?” “In a minute, honey.” He rubbed his eyes. “There’s a lot of people I haven’t thanked yet.” “They came because they cared about you. You don’t have to make a second round of speeches.” “You sound like your mother.” That made me smile. He’d been saying it since I was fourteen, usually when I told him to get enough sleep or put his dishes in the sink. I still liked hearing it, especially on days when I missed her more than usual. Dad had never treated my mother’s death as an ending to our family. He called on my birthday, remembered my court dates, and argued with me about whether Chicago winters were worth the trouble. Watching him grieve Luke, I understood that he would have done every bit of it for his son too, if Luke had let him. Brian approached while I was helping Dad into his jacket. He had his phone in his hand and an expression I couldn’t read. After our conversation in the hallway, I wasn’t sure he would choose to speak to me again today. “You heading out?” he asked Dad. “Soon. Thank you for taking care of everything, Brian.” “You don’t need to thank me.” Brian hesitated. “There’s something else. Sable sent a message. She asked me to give you her condolences.” Dad went quiet. Then he nodded, slowly. “That was kind of her. Tell her I appreciate it. And tell her I hope she’s doing all right.” “I will.” I watched Brian’s fingers tighten around his phone. It lasted only a second, but his expression had changed as soon as he’d said her name. For the first time since I’d seen him again, he looked uncertain about what to do with his hands. Sable Arden. Steve’s little sister. Luke’s former girlfriend. The woman everyone said Brian had killed my brother to protect. I’d known her when I was younger, although never particularly well. She’d always seemed determined to prove she belonged in a clubhouse full of men who had opinions about everything. I wondered how much of that confidence she’d managed to keep after her relationship with Luke. She had lost Steve in the crash that put Brian one step closer to the presidency, then endured whatever had happened with Luke. I had spent so much time examining Brian’s possible motive that I hadn’t considered how the same events might look to her. “How thoughtful,” Valerie said from behind us. I hadn’t heard her approach. Judging by Brian’s shoulders, neither had he. “Sending a message instead of showing her face,” Valerie continued. “I suppose that takes a certain kind of courage.” Dad’s grip tightened around his jacket. “Valerie, please.” “I’m only saying she was part of Luke’s life. You’d think she could have paid her respects.” “She doesn’t owe him that,” Brian said. His voice wasn’t loud. The change in it was enough to make Valerie stop smiling. “Brian, sweetheart, I didn’t mean anything by it.” “Then leave her alone.” The air at our table grew uncomfortable. Dad looked down, apparently unwilling to referee an argument between his ex-wife and the man who’d taken his son’s place. I could hardly blame him. Valerie recovered quickly. She smoothed Brian’s sleeve and gave a sad little sigh. “You’ve always had such a tender heart underneath all that leather. It’s one of the things I love about you.” He stepped back before her hand could settle against his chest. “I’m going to get the car brought around.” I watched him go. Valerie watched too, with an expression that vanished the moment she noticed me looking. “Such a difficult time for everyone,” she said. “I’ll let you get your father home.” Once she’d gone, Dad gave me a weary look. “Thank you for not taking her bait,” he said. “I don’t have the energy for another argument today.” “You shouldn’t have to.” He managed a small smile. I helped him stand, then walked him toward the entrance, wondering how many uncomfortable conversations he’d swallowed over the years just to keep the peace. Brian was waiting outside beside Dad’s car. He opened the passenger door and made sure Dad was settled before turning to me. “You have a minute?” “A minute,” I agreed. “Dad’s had enough of this place.” He glanced through the window. “I meant what I said earlier. Ask whatever you need to ask about Luke. But Sable’s been through enough, Lynnie. Don’t turn her into somebody you need to put on the stand.” “I wouldn’t do that. If I speak to her, it’ll be because she’s willing.” He searched my face for a moment, then nodded. “Good.” I wanted to ask why his voice had gone tight when he said her name. Why he’d been so quick to defend her against Valerie. There was nothing suspicious about protecting someone who’d been hurt, and I knew better than to treat compassion as evidence of guilt. Yet something about Brian’s reaction suggested a story nobody had trusted me to hear. “Is she all right?” I asked instead. He looked toward the road, then back at me. “She’s safe now.” It should’ve been a reassuring answer. Instead, I found myself wondering exactly what she’d needed to survive to reach that point.