“Why do you think he came?”
“Money?”
“Yours?”
“I’m not aware of anyone else he knows who’d let him sponge off of them.”
“How much did he ask for?”
“None.”
“You gave it to him before he asked so he’d get out of town, right?” It was what this new, emotionally closed Joe Fraser would do. Joe Fraser, commercial real estate broker, loner.
“I’m not giving the man one red cent.”
“And he left without it?”
“No.”
Frowning, Sue tried to decipher that one. Did that mean Adam had found a way to get the money without asking? That someone else had given it to him, after all?
Or that he hadn’t left?
Her mom and dad parked their rental sedan across the street. Jenny stumbled as she got out of the car, and Luke hurried around to help her, steadying her with an arm firmly around her back. His gaze met Sue’s. He whispered something to his wife and they both smiled over. Waved.
Sue waved back and Joe turned to see who was there. She had to go in. They knew she was out here. They’d come looking for her. She swallowed.
“Is your dad still in town?” she asked Joe, instead. Their conversations were generally short-lived, over the phone and strictly about business. Specifically, the books she kept for him.
Joe replied with a brief nod.
“Has he said how long he’s staying?”
“For good. Are you going in there or not?”
A fresh wave of panic washed through her. “You’re coming, aren’t you? Just to meet my folks?”
He hesitated and Sue was afraid he was going to refuse. Then he opened the car door.
“WHO WAS THE HOTTIE?” Belle asked. “Someone new you forgot to tell me about?”
Joe had met Sue’s parents, a polite, uneventful moment considering all of the effort she’d taken in high school to keep them away from each other. And then, making sure they could take Sue home before heading back to their hotel in the city, he’d excused himself.
Sue gave her cousin as much of a grin as she could muster and shook her head. “That was just Joe.”
About sixty people were milling around Grandma’s huge living room, spilling over into the formal dining room and out onto the deck. Her mom and dad were there somewhere. Uncle Sam and Aunt Emily, too.
A lot of the rest Sue didn’t know.
“Joe Fraser?” Belle asked, as they watched people from their vantage point at the foot of the white-banis-tered curving staircase that led to the three bedrooms upstairs: Grandma’s room and, at one point, Jenny’s and Sam’s.
“Yeah.”
“Ah…” Belle sipped the wine she’d poured from a bottle out of Grandpa’s rack on the wall opposite the fireplace. “The Joe,” she added. “I didn’t realize you guys were friends again.”
“We aren’t. We’re friendly, but that’s about it. Joe hasn’t confided in me in years.” She sipped from the glass Belle had poured for her. “If not for the fact that he needed a bookkeeper when I needed a job that would allow me to stay at home with the babies, we probably wouldn’t be in touch at all.”
They’d made their peace. She’d just never again been welcome in the inner circles of Joe’s heart.
“It’s a shame,” Belle said. “He’s gorgeous. Available. And you guys were such good friends.”
“Joe’s changed a lot. And besides, I’ve never been in love with him. Not in that way.”
Belle nodded, and Sue knew she understood. Belle had recently gone against her overbearing father’s wishes and broken up with the man her dad had wanted her to marry. Try as she might, she hadn’t been able to fall in love with the young lawyer.
The sound of a glass shattering on Grandma’s hardwood floor made Sue wince. She moved toward the sound, intending to clean up whatever had spilled before it had a chance to soak in, but saw Aunt Emily had got to the mess in the dining room first.
“I’ve already done some checking and found that on average, it’s taking homes a year or more to sell…”
Sue froze, just around the corner from the voice. Her uncle Sam’s.
“So you’re planning to sell?” She didn’t recognize the other voice. It was male.
“Of course. What would I want with this old thing?”
“Nadine and I wondered if perhaps you and Emily would move into it. The place is beautiful. And the views exquisite.”
They were talking about Grandma’s home.
“God, no! I wouldn’t live in a seventy-year-old house. I want copper pipes and insulation that works.”
This is your mother’s home, you jerk. His childhood home. Not that sentimentality had ever mattered one whit to Uncle Sam.
“So it is going to you, then?” The other man continued to butt in to family matters that were none of his business.
“Of course.” Uncle Sam’s voice boomed with confidence. “We meet with the attorney this week, and I’m sure I’mexecutor of the estate. I am Robert and Sarah’s only biological child. Their only heir.”
“Oh!” The other man’s surprise was evident. “I didn’t realize…I mean, Jenny’s always…”
“Been adopted,” Sam said drily. “I am the only true Carson and I know my father well enough to be sure that while he’ll have taken care of Jenny, the bulk of the estate will come to me…”
“Oh, God, Sue, don’t listen to him.”
Sue jumped as Belle spoke just behind her. Her cousin put a hand on her arm, resting her chin on Sue’s shoulder. “He’s an ass. It means nothing…”
“He’s right,” Sue said. “He is the only Carson by blood.”
“So?”
“I never realized he resented my mother so much.”
“He resents the world because he’s not God,” Belle said, mimicking her father’s tone.
Turning, Sue met her cousin’s caring gaze. “Did you ever resent me, growing up?” she asked. “I was two years older, and so close to Grandma. And your dad’s right, you had blood ties. I didn’t.”
“As if it mattered,” Belle said, flipping Sue’s ponytail affectionately, “to anyone but him. And I was as close to Grandpa as you were to Grandma.” They walked toward the kitchen—and relative peace. “The only thing I resented about you, my dear, was that you had parents who really loved each other. And you.”
Sue could have placated Belle with meaningless words, but they both knew the truth. Emily Carson loved Belle with all her heart. At one point, she’d probably loved Sam that way, too.
But somewhere along the way Sam Carson, the heir apparent and new head of the family, had become one very difficult man to love.
Chapter Two
THIRTY-ONE-YEAR-OLD Assistant Superintendent of Schools Rick Kraynick was slowly getting used to eating alone. Living alone.
Thinking alone.
What he didn’t usually do was drink alone. Or drink, period. He’d seen firsthand what substance abuse could do to a person. And while