“Um…” She couldn’t think. She didn’t want to think. She didn’t want to sit here and think of herself as being such a low and callous human being for not having gone back. Whatever had happened when she had been a teenager, she didn’t think that it had been her grandfather’s fault, no matter what her father had believed. And her father hadn’t actually called Cutter evil, he had told her he was a good man. He hadn’t even said that the house was evil. But there had been something. She had known that her father believed that her mother’s death hadn’t been an accident, and that he had taken Kelsey away from the house because he had wanted her away from Cutter Merlin.
But the man had been her grandfather, her flesh and blood! She had spoken with him on the phone after her father’s death, and she had said that she would come out. But there had been the awful grief of losing her father, and then the flurry of work to learn to live with the fact that he was gone. And then…and then…
She had meant to go down to see him. She hadn’t. And that’s the way it was, and now he was gone, too, and she was a horrible human being. Liam had said that they had just found him, but…
He had been dead some time. He had died alone, and his body had just sat there alone in death, because he had been so alone in life.
“Kelsey?”
“I’m here.”
“His attorney was Joe Richter. I’ll text you the phone number and address. I suppose you can come here yourself, or make whatever arrangements you’d like with Joe.”
“Sure. Thank you.” She still felt numb—and filled with regret. She didn’t like herself very much at the moment. She roused herself, though, curious as to why it was Liam who had called her.
“Um—how is it that you’re calling?” she asked.
“I’m a cop these days,” he told her. “And we’ve had a few shake-ups in the department lately, so… Anyway, old times, I suppose. When his mail carrier reported that he wasn’t collecting his mail, I went to the house. I found him.”
A cop. Of course, Liam was a cop. He’d wanted to solve every riddle, put together the pieces of any puzzle. Once, when a school lab rat had disappeared, he had discovered that Sam Henley had stolen the creature to take home; he’d pretended to find Sam’s fingerprint on the rat cage, and Sam had quickly squealed—like a rat.
She closed her eyes. She was thinking about Liam. And Cutter was dead.
“Was it a heart attack?” she asked.
There seemed to be a little beat in time before he answered.
“Apparently. But his body is still with the M.E. Just procedure,” he said.
But there had been something odd in his voice!
“Please go ahead and call Joe, Kelsey. Let him know what you’d like. Are you still drawing?”
The new question took a moment to comprehend. She was surprised that he remembered how she had loved drawing.
“I’m a cartoonist. I have a column, and we do a little animated thing on the web,” she said. “I have an animator partner, and we’re doing fairly well. Thanks for asking.”
“That sounds great. Well…”
His voice trailed off. He was a cop. He was busy.
“Thank you again, Liam. I’m glad the news came from you.”
“I’m sorry, Kelsey. Though I guess it’s been a while since you’d seen Cutter.”
“We had talked,” she told him. Ah, yes, there were defensive tones to her words!
“Take care,” he told her.
“Of course, thank you—you, too.”
The phone went dead in her hands. She still didn’t move for several minutes.
The room darkened around her. Only the bright light above her drafting table gave illumination to her apartment.
She liked where she lived. People often thought of the L.A. area as rather a hellhole of plastic people and traffic.
But Hollywood had neighborhoods. She didn’t have to travel most of the time; she worked from home. She had great theater around her, and wonderful music venues. A decent, busy life in a place where there were actually local bars and coffee shops, where she knew the owners of the small restaurants near her and where, day by day, things were pleasant, good.
She didn’t need to go back. She could call Joe Richter, and he could make any arrangements that might be necessary.
No, she couldn’t. She owed Cutter the decency of arranging a funeral herself.
A beep notified her that Liam Beckett had sent her the text with Joe’s information.
She would call him in the morning. She swiveled in her chair from the drafting board to her computer. And she keyed up the airlines, and made a reservation to reach Key West.
She was going home.
Once the reservation was made, she found herself thinking about her father. He’d been a good man. He’d loved her mother so much, and her, too. And he’d even loved Cutter Merlin, she thought. But when they had moved away, she had asked him why, and he had told her, “Because it isn’t safe, kitten. Because it just isn’t safe to be around Cutter, or that house, or…all that he has done. That man will never be safe, in life…or in death.”
The call came when Liam was off duty, when he was down at O’Hara’s having dinner—the special for the night, fish and chips.