“Really.” Ethan’s heart jumped wildly in his chest. He worked to keep his voice even. “Still, might be just a rumor.”
“I made a few calls. Trust me, it’s true.”
Ethan didn’t think to doubt the sharp newspaper mogul’s sources.
Lewis glared into the flames flickering in the old marble fireplace. It wasn’t a particularly cold June evening, but there was a slight chill in the air since a thundershower that afternoon. Lewis felt the cold more easily these days, deep in his bones where brandy couldn’t seep. He was a baker’s dozen years older than his wife and the gap seemed more pronounced than ever. Ethan knew Lewis regretted not diving into marriage sooner, like he had everything else, and having a bundle of kids. His late start had produced only one son. And Brad’s life had been so tragically short.
“How dare she come back?” Lewis thundered. “The girl who killed our Brad.” He rested drunken eyes on Ethan, eyes which looked moist.
Raw emotion swelled inside Ethan threatening to leave him splintered and miserable. He tamped it down with remarkable control. “Whatever happened out there on Route 6 that night, Lew—” he struggled for his voice “—was an accident.”
“She killed my precious boy.” Big tears of despair began to spill.
Ethan had the sudden urge to bolt, to escape a replay of the decade-old mess. But he was dealt in permanently at the Cutler’s table, as intimately as he had been back in his frog-catching days. With his own parents relocated to Arizona, Ethan most often turned to Lewis for financial advice, fishing company, or just to rehash a ball game.
Staying numb was his only chance. He abruptly strode across to the room’s wet bar and poured himself a short whiskey. The brandy Lewis was guzzling cost three hundred bucks a bottle and, in Ethan’s opinion, was stuff to be saved strictly for the good times.
Ethan wandered round the big room sipping his drink, taking in the sameness, the security he’d always felt here. A stuffed moose head, trophies for shooting, a mantel full of photos of Ethan and Brad growing up. Lewis loved showing off his wide range of skills, as hunter, mogul and mentor. When the boys were in high school, the room had featured pictures of Kelsey as well. For two and a half years she’d been a valued part of this family, just like Ethan.
Kelsey Graham, the love of Bradley Cutler’s young life. Who’d apparently smashed up his sporty black VW Jetta on prom night, killing not only Brad, but friends Todd Marshall and Lissa Hanson.
“I had an agreement with the mother,” Lewis muttered. “Ship Kelsey off to Bryn Mawr and I would put a stop to any town boycott of her café.”
Ethan arched a brow. “Was there a boycott in the works?”
“The way everyone loved those three dead kids? Who’d support a restaurant harboring her?”
“But sending her to Philadelphia seemed so extreme, when she was already enrolled at the University of Wisconsin like the rest of us.”
“Had she gone to school in Madison with you, she could’ve commuted back here on weekends. Like nothing ever happened. Intolerable.”
This was the first Ethan had heard of any embargo on the café. But the town had been hysterical back then. The only thing folks seemed to agree on was the basic account of the accident: Kelsey had lost control on a dark slick curve out in the countryside and had hit a tree, ejecting all four kids on impact. Brad and Lissa had died at the scene. Kelsey and Todd had been raced to Maple County Hospital for treatment, where Todd had died without regaining consciousness.
Ethan shook off a shiver as he recalled how he’d gone to the prom in the Jetta. But his date had gotten ill halfway through the evening and he’d taken her home by taxi. He’d returned to the party to discover Brad and Kelsey had left with Todd and Lissa. Understandable, as he wouldn’t have been any fun solo. While it had been a disappointment at the time, Susie Moore’s flu bug had probably saved both their lives.
“I can’t help but wonder how she found out about the reunion in the first place,” Lewis grumbled.
“She probably was sent an invitation along with the rest of us.”
“Who’d do that!”
“Does that really matter?” Ethan asked quietly.
“Yes. I’d like to know who was so careless, who didn’t even think to consult me first.”
The self-appointed town leader would expect to be shown such deference. Over the years people had helped fuel his huge ego by catering to him even as they accepted his advice and help in all sorts of civic and business matters. He’d always been extremely generous with his time and money, as long as no one challenged his autocratic streak. Lewis’s biggest weakness was his habit of holding grudges.
“Derek’s wife was her best friend….” Lewis scowled. “But she wouldn’t dare. Not after all I’ve done for Derek.”
Of course she’d dare! Ethan pressed his lips firmly to conceal a smile. Sarah Yates never deferred to her husband and had always stayed close with Kelsey. Small tidbits about Kelsey slipped out of her on occasion, confirming they were still in touch.
Ethan landed in a beige club chair near Lewis’s, regarding him with concern. “This stress can’t be good for you, Lew. You already had that one heart attack.”
The aged and fleshy chin lifted. “It was just a flutter.”
That wasn’t true at all. It had been fairly serious, and he had been hospitalized for several days while they’d run tests. “Whatever you call it, you’re not supposed to get too riled.”
This attempt at reason seemed to bounce off Lewis’s granite features, still trained on the fire. “Pity those old manslaughter charges didn’t stick. I sure wish there was a way of charging that girl now.”
The very idea made Ethan sick to his stomach. “There wasn’t enough evidence then, so it would be even harder today.”
“When I think how my critically injured boy managed to crawl round the car to reach her. It surely hastened his death. If only he’d stayed put. If only I’d gotten help there in time.”
It was that murky issue of time that had Ethan running the siren tonight. Just in case another Cutler life hung on a matter of minutes. But whatever Brad had done on his own in the end, it had been his choice, not Kelsey’s.
Lewis ponderously sipped some brandy. “Wonder what she wants. Exactly…”
Seemed obvious to Ethan. “To see her mother, I should think.”
“Do you really believe it’s that simple?”
“Yes…” Ethan’s voice trailed off as he stared at Lewis, wondering if there was something significant behind his wizened look. But what could it be? “I seriously doubt Kelsey has an ulterior motive,” he said more strongly. “She and Clare must miss each other terribly. A family of two, unless you count Clare’s brother, Teddy.”
“Who’s never counted for much,” Lewis grunted.
“There’s not a more gentle woman in town than Clare Graham. Their separation has to be painful, all those holidays apart.”
“At least when Clare talks to Kelsey, she gets an answer. No long-distance line has yet been invented to connect me with Brad.”
Ethan lowered his head. “I know you miss him. I do, too. I’ve tried my best to be there for you—in his place.”
“Of course you have. Why the minute I sized you up years back in that cheap Sunday suit, with a crummy haircut and first-class brain, I knew you were special. You’re the spare son Bailey and I longed for and you’ve never let us down once,” he assured. “However, that has nothing to do with my ongoing issue with the Grahams.”
“But it does