“For fuck’s sake,” I muttered.
I needed a meditation class. Or hypnotherapy. Or some kind of drug that rendered me immune to Lucian Rollins. So what if he hated me? So what if he went out of his way to piss me off? Every time I reacted, I was giving him what he wanted. That alone should be enough to stop me.
“Knock knock?” The tentative greeting came from Naomi, who entered my office with my sister. “I was bringing Maeve up to you, and we ran into Lucian on the stairs,” Naomi said. “I think he actually snarled when I said hello.”
“Please don’t speak that name in my presence ever again,” I begged.
“Wow. You two really can’t stand each other, can you?” Maeve observed. “You guys used to be so tight.”
“They did? When?” Naomi pounced on the information like a cat with a catnip taco.
“I’m going to ask you both a huge favor that involves changing the subject immediately,” I interrupted.
“She doesn’t like to talk about whatever it is that happened with Lu—that guy,” Naomi whispered to my sister.
“I just so happen to have the perfect subject change,” Maeve said, eyeing the visitors’ chairs that were buried under books and the remains of a children’s diorama of the first public library in Knockemout.
“Let’s take this to the conference room,” I suggested, wanting to get away from the Lucian-y vibe of my office.
“I need to get back downstairs,” Naomi said. “Neecey’s coming in when she finishes her shift at Dino’s, and I’m helping her find some Medicare information for her dad.”
“Thanks for bringing me up,” Maeve called after her.
“Yeah, thanks,” I said belatedly. “Come on.” I led the way to the conference room and settled in at the table with my sister. “Okay. Lay it on me.”
“Mary Louise Upshaw,” Maeve said, removing a file from her slim, snazzy briefcase. “She was arrested for possession and transporting a controlled substance. She was sentenced to twenty years in prison. She’s eleven years into her sentence in Fraus Correctional Center about an hour south of here.”
“That seems unusually harsh,” I noted.
“It is,” my sister agreed. “The average sentence for similar charges is usually closer to three to five years.”
“Why would her case warrant such an excessive sentence? It was her first offense.”
“The judge hearing the case made a career out of being tough on drugs. He could have been making some kind of statement.”
I picked up the folder and looked at Mary Louise’s mug shot. She looked like a scared suburban mom who had no idea how she’d gotten herself into a predicament that involved a mug shot. “She doesn’t look like someone who would traffic a few pounds of weed and a couple tabs of ecstasy.”
“From what I could gather, Mary Louise claimed the drugs weren’t hers and initially pleaded not guilty. But a few weeks later, she changed her plea to no contest.”
I thought about what Allen had told me the day of Dad’s funeral. “My dumb stuff had consequences. Consequences my mom paid for.”
“Oh, Allen,” I sighed. “Why didn’t she appeal?”
“She has. Or at least she’s tried. She’s been through four public defenders since her arrest. I have the contact info for her current representation,” Maeve said.
I knew from my sister and my father that public defenders were notoriously overworked and the turnover was brisk.
“I’m sorry it’s not a deeper dive. I’ve been in court, and there were some other things demanding my attention, so I didn’t have as much time to dig into the case as I would have liked.”
I flipped through the paperwork. “I appreciate you doing this. I know you’ve got a lot going on.”
“Never too much for family,” she said.
There was that flare of guilt again. I had been too busy for family. Too busy to start one.
“Hey. How are you doing with everything?” I asked, reaching across the table and squeezing her hand.
She squeezed back. “I’m doing okay. Chloe is a good distraction. That girl can suck all the attention out of a room and leave its occupants too exhausted to think after she leaves. But I really miss him.”
“Me too,” I said.
I felt like there was more to the sad shrug, the forced smile. Something she wasn’t telling me.
“What else is going on?” I pressed.
An uninitiated observer would have missed the flicker in her eyes, but I was a nosy little sister. I saw it all.
“Nothing,” she said innocently.
“Liar. You’ve been off since before Dad died. What’s going on? You might as well spill it because you know I won’t leave you alone.”
She rolled her eyes. “Ugh. Fine. I was seeing this guy, and it didn’t work out. It was nothing. No dramatic breakup. No tearful confrontation.”
My eyebrows winged up. “You were seeing someone and managed to keep it a secret in this town?”
“It wasn’t exactly a relationship I wanted broadcast to the world.”
“You had a secret, taboo affair and managed to keep it quiet? I’m impressed. Why did you dump him?”
“How did you—never mind. I’m too busy for a relationship. He wanted serious, and I didn’t—don’t—have the time for serious.”
My sister was the calm, collected person you’d want on your side in the middle of an emergency. She never let emotions get the best of her. The fact that she was pretending not to be upset about the breakup told me it was more than “nothing.”
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” I said, treading lightly.
“It’s fine. Thanks again for play rehearsal pickup. That’s been helpful,” Maeve said, reeling in her emotions.
I studied her for a moment, then decided to let it go…for now.
“Hey, do you and Chloe want to come over Sunday? We’ll make Dad’s chili and Mom’s cornbread and watch Erin Brockovich.” And I could sneakily work more information out of her about this mystery man.
“The Simon Walton Memorial Trifecta,” Maeve said with a smile. “Count us in.”
“Great.”
My sister packed up her tidy briefcase and got to her feet. “Listen. If you decide to dig into this Mary Louise case, let me know. I’m interested.”
“Thanks, Maevey Gravy,” I said wrapping her in a hug.
“Anytime, Sloaney Baloney.”
13
An Electrifying Dinner
Lucian
Ipulled my Range Rover into Knox’s driveway behind his truck. The lights were on in the big house, casting a glow that cut through the winter gloom. I’d loved coming here as a boy. The freedom Liza J and her husband, Pop, had allowed. Entire summers were spent here swimming in the creek, sleeping under the stars, climbing trees, daring each other to do the stupid shit of boyhood.
Of course, once we discovered girls, our priorities had changed.
The old timber house had changed as well. Since Knox and Naomi had moved in, there was a tidy order that had never existed before. There were candles in the windows and boughs of pine looped through the porch railing.
They’d gone all out for Christmas, their first as a family. It had been admittedly spectacular. I couldn’t blame Knox for the sleigh and reindeer on the roof. If I’d had a chance at a family like that, I’d probably go crazy overcompensating for all the holidays I hadn’t had as a kid too.
I got out of the car and debated smoking my cigarette now. Grabbing a last few quiet moments before going inside. It had been a feat of sheer willpower not to smoke it after leaving the library. The odds were I’d need it after dinner.