Author: Robyn Carr

“I want to,” Eric said. “If I can get up, that is.”

“Pain?”

“I don’t think you broke anything,” he said, smiling at her.

He hoisted himself up and immediately grabbed the small of his back. Then he grinned into her shocked face and held out a hand to help her to her feet. “I lock up at around eleven. I’ll grab a shower and come over after.”

“I have a shower,” she said. “I’ll be up.”

* * *

Laine texted her brother. If you’re still awake, can you talk?

An hour later, 9:00 p.m. her time, her cell rang. It was midnight in Boston.

“Are you in trouble?” was his first question.

“Get serious. Why would I text you if I was in trouble? I’d call the police.”

“This kind of text—I don’t get this from you. Where are you?”

“I’m home! How come you’re up?”

“I had surgery and I’m hanging close to this kid for another couple of hours, so if I hang up on you...”

“I have a question for you. How did you know you were in love with Genevieve?”

He laughed. “She told me I was.”

“Seriously.”

“Are you high?” he asked. “I’ve been married for nine years!”

“Still married, you should say. So—how? Why?”

“Laine, you don’t even like her that much! What’s up with this?”

“Don’t be ridiculous—I love her. We’re not close. We have nothing in common. We’re not alike, but I...”

“All right, let me take another angle. You don’t care why I love my wife. You’re a wonderful sister, a spectacular aunt, a good and faithful friend, but I think if you had your way, you’d find me a different wife.”

“Have I been that bad?” she asked, suddenly ashamed of her behavior toward her sister-in-law. She’d never been cruel but no one knew better than Laine how to create emotional distance. Besides, Genevieve didn’t need her. She had her own sisters. But still, Laine had kept her at arm’s length.

“You haven’t exactly bonded with Genevieve,” Pax said. “Now why the question?”

“Because,” she said softly. “I think I have a man.”

“Congratulations,” Pax said. “It’s not your first man.”

A long moment of silence stretched out between them. Finally she said, “He just about is.”

Pax cleared his throat. “Okay. Well, here’s how it happened. I was a med student. She was involved in some fund-raiser for sick kids...she was volunteering or something. I saw her and I tripped. Literally, I fell right into a kitchen cart and sent about twenty dinner trays sailing down the hall.”

Laine laughed. Genevieve was very pretty, she’d give her that.

“The minute I was done helping to clean up and the attending resident was done yelling at me, I talked to her. She was holding a small child who’d had brain surgery and although she talked to me a little bit, she wouldn’t take her attention off that child. But I did get her phone number. I had absolutely no time to date anyone but I wanted to go out with her so bad I couldn’t sleep at night. And I’m all for sleeping when there’s time to sleep. It was killing me—she was killing me. I had to suffer through about ten phone calls and then I had to give her references before she’d date me.”

“References?” Laine said with a laugh.

“Yes, references—she wasn’t about to go out with some clumsy stranger without knowing she’d be completely safe. I think you were in the middle of finishing up your master’s or interviewing with the FBI or maybe even in the academy because you were useless to me.”

“Wow,” she said. “I never gave her enough credit.”

“She has a passion for children,” he said almost reverently. “Especially children in need. She wouldn’t let me distract her from that. I didn’t know I’d be a surgeon at that time. I wasn’t even sure I’d be a pediatrician. That was my goal but Dad was pushing me toward neurosurgery. All that was peripheral—I asked Genevieve to marry me six weeks after our first date. There was just something about the way she hugged me.”

Laine laughed out loud.

“Seriously,” he insisted. “She’s the most nurturing woman. She has compassion to spare—she’s the most supportive woman I know. There’s not a malicious cell in her body. And look at what she’s gotten herself into! A surgeon in a difficult fellowship after both med school and a grueling residency, two kids, a million responsibilities, and yet she’s never too busy or distracted to give me her full attention, to cheer me on....”

“Oh, my God,” Laine said suddenly. “Oh, my God, Pax! You married our mother!”

Laughter answered her. “You’re just getting that?”

“Then why haven’t we been closer?” Laine asked.

“Twenty reasons, and not entirely your fault, so relax. I don’t blame you and it doesn’t matter. First of all, when we got married, you still had Mom. Mom was your best friend....”

“You were always my best friend....”

“Not after marrying Genevieve. You had Mom, though. And Genevieve had her own mother and sisters—she’s very close to her family. And you’re right, you’re nothing alike. You’re scrappy and she’s made avoiding conflict a science. She has no trouble telling me what she wants, however. She’s so like Mom—she knows how to smooth things over, make things work, show ways that everyone can be right....”

“Wow, how did I miss that?” Laine asked.

“Who cares how? She’s a good woman. I knew that right away. Pretty soon I realized she was like Mom and I appreciated her even more. She’s kind,” Pax said. “Wise. She makes me a better father. She tells me when the girls need something so I never fall short with them. I’m telling you, she’s the most giving, nurturing person I know. And trustworthy. I trust her as much as I trust you. She admires you so much, you have no idea....”

Laine swallowed back some sentimental tears. She coughed. “So. You knew right away.”

“Right away. Now tell me, who is this unworthy bastard you think you love?”

“A guy from town. I met him in the first couple of days I was here. He’s very handsome. And funny. And also kind. Thoughtful. But he’s just a mechanic. I mean, he has his own service station and body shop, but he’s basically a wrench. Very smart for a wrench. He must do a lot of reading or something—I’ll look deeper at that. And I don’t love him. I just like him. But a lot.”

“Well, has he done anything really special?” Pax asked.

There were so many ways to answer that. He restored classic cars—he was an artist. He built and sold one successful business and was building a second here in Thunder Point. He just found out he had a child and was stepping up, trying to help her with college. How many men would do that? But what did she say? “He’s paid his debt to society.”

Eight

After a morning jog, Laine stopped into the deputy’s office rather than the diner. Mac was on the phone so she paced by the front door while she waited, hands on her hips, taking slow breaths to even out her ragged breathing. When he finally hung up, he shot her a smile. “Well, hello. I was going to call you this afternoon.”

“Why?” she asked.

“You first,” he said. “What can I do for you?”

“Hmm. Personal business between a couple of cops,” she said. “I’ve been sort of dating Eric Gentry....”

Mac’s grin was large. “How does one ‘sort of date’ these days?” he asked.

“I doubt that’s changed much over the centuries. So, I know about his history with law enforcement and the judicial system. I was wondering if you’d looked any further. Any deeper.”

“The facts of the case and the trial are public record,” Mac said.

“I read all that. Thus the question—did you look any further? Earlier issues and associations of his? Problems with the law since? You know...did you run him?”

Mac leaned forward. “If he’s not a suspect and if there’s not probable cause, that would be wrong. A private detective could do that without getting in trouble, but our procedure...”

“And yet, he’s your stepdaughter’s biological father,” she said, raising one brow.

“I wouldn’t let him near Gina or Ashley if I had any doubts about his character,” Mac said. “I’m willing to bet you have good instincts about him or you probably wouldn’t ‘sort of’ date him.”

“I also have good instincts about my instincts—that is to say, when emotionally involved, I could miss some signals.”

“Then let me give you some peace of mind here. I didn’t want to like the guy. Really, he did my wife wrong when they were just kids. Her life was harder because of him. And Ashley, as a little girl growing up without a father, had her struggles. The emerging facts are, he was a stupid, reckless ass and made some very large mistakes, for which he’s made amends. And the man he’s become seems to be beyond reproach. Plus, I’m not emotionally involved, my instincts are good and I like him. He does anything to hurt them and I’ll kill him, but I like him.”

Laine smiled lazily. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to rat you out to the sheriff. I just had to ask.”

“I would’ve asked,” he admitted.

“He was screwed, you know.”

“How’s that?”

“Come on, you read the reports and transcripts. He had inadequate counsel. He was the driver of a car carrying ‘armed felons’ who weren’t armed and he had no idea anyone had done anything wrong. They were twenty-one—they stopped for beer and Eric was nineteen so he didn’t go in, even the store owner verified that. He assumed they bought the beer. He wasn’t speeding, wasn’t trying to make a fast getaway when the officer made them. He pulled over for the flashing lights. He was unaware of any crime.”

“That doesn’t get a pass,” Mac said.

“The other two got off. One got probation, one got a year, Eric got five to eight and did five and he was the least guilty. Does he know he was screwed?”

“I think he’s smart enough to know it didn’t go his way. But he can also figure out that it no longer matters. However unfair that five years might’ve been, some good came of it. He turned his life around, made something of himself. What’s he gonna do about it now, huh? Sue the public defender?”

“He could be bitter,” she pointed out.

“Well, you’re close to him,” Mac said. “Let me know if you find bitterness. He seems pretty well adjusted.”

“Man,” she said with a laugh. “You’re a regular ex-con cheerleader. This guy give you money or something?”

Mac leaned forward. “He’s what I wish could happen to everyone who stumbles. Look, his crime that night might not have been too dangerous, given there was no real weapon involved, but Eric will tell you himself—he was a badass. He drank and doped and took stupid chances, lucky he didn’t kill himself or anyone else on the road. And he’s what I wish every young man who does time could be—rehabilitated. I don’t have to tell you—it doesn’t usually happen that way. The rate of recidivism is enormous. But Eric got a better life out of it. That’s how it looks. If you’re worried, date someone else.”

“I like him, too,” she said.

Mac was quiet for a long moment. “Let me know if you need anything. Help or anything.”