Twilight (42 page)

“With their pressure and the local hue and cry, the mayor’s leaned on the chief.”

Cal was not sure he was hearing this correctly.

Danson drew himself up, hands on his hips. “Therefore, I’m here to inform you that all charges have been waived in lieu of community service. It’s all in this letter from Judge Kinzer.” He drew it from his shirt pocket and held it out. “And this is a letter from Frank reinstating you to the Montrose Fire Department, full seniority and benefits.”

Cal stood, uncomprehending. “Charges are dropped?”

“Waived.” Danson narrowed his eyes. “But not forgotten.”

That part he understood. “Look, Chuck … I do apologize.”

“Yeah? I’ve had that TMJ for weeks.” He rubbed his jaw.

Cal fought the grin.

Danson raised a warning finger. “One crack from you, and you’ll seriously regret it. And if I hear it whispered around …”

Cal held his hands palms forward. “Not a word, I swear.”

“Well, then …” Danson turned to Mildred and Cissy. “Sorry to interrupt your dinner. Sure smells good.”

“Won’t you join us?” Mildred held the potato spoon like a baton. She included both Rawlings and Danson in her gesture.

Pete Rawlings bowed out. “I’ve got the wife waiting dinner.” Danson hesitated. “Well, it’s sure a homey smell.”

Cal wouldn’t have chosen him to spend Christmas with, but looking around the table, he realized he wouldn’t have chosen any of them … before. Now, he angled a chair in Danson’s direction. “Then sit down already. I’m starved.”

Lights glittered from the greenery decking everything from the curved banisters to the archways. It had all been ordered months in advance, though now there were black velvet bows along with the shimmery gold French ribbon. Laurie hadn’t wanted to decorate, but Brian’s mother had insisted. “You must keep up appearances. Brian would want it. He’d want his home as festive and …” Laurie had rested a hand on Wanda Prelane’s shoulder when she broke down. More would have been too personal, too presumptuous.

Laurie looked across the room at Wanda, elegant in black chiffon. The party, too, had been arranged long before she had left town, before Brian came after her. If not, they would never have gotten the caterer.

There was some comfort in the knowledge that Dieter and Luìs had confessed to the killing as part of a plea bargain, dropping felony kidnapping with intent to murder, and other charges she couldn’t remember the legal terms for. Brian’s murder was enough for both to get life in prison, but it could have been worse. She was certain the deal included an under-the-table agreement to keep Brian’s illegal connection quiet. Stuart, Sr. had seen to that, reputation control an art for him. Wasn’t that cause for celebration? Laurie sighed. It was all about putting on a face, and she was learning to do it well.

Wanda had insisted the party occur. “Darling, they’ll want to come. To comfort you in your grief.”

“I’d rather be alone in my grief.”

“Sometimes we don’t have that luxury. You’ll do it for them, Laurie, for all those who loved Brian. To honor his memory.”

So she stayed silent while the decorators came, then the caterers and the orchestra, and the Santa Claus for the children. She’d even smiled when Luke and Maddie showed her the extravagant trinkets he’d pulled from his bag for them. A Madame Alexander doll and a replica of a classic Corvette with real working headlights. No squirt gun and squirrel puppet.

Laurie turned away from the stoically grieving face of Brian’s mother in conversation with a solicitous guest whose name Laurie scarcely remembered. All these people in her home, people of privilege. With her eyes she searched out Darla, one friend of whom Brian had never approved.

Actually, Laurie hadn’t been close to her either. But she’d confided more than she should have one lonely night. And Darla had listened. Laurie was tempted again to take her aside, to pour out her confusion and … and what? She’d made her decision. This was her life, for Luke and Maddie to have more than she’d had, for Mother to believe she’d done right. If she left it now, she might never enter that world again. Slowly she crossed the room, smiling, though sadly, as the widow of the tragically murdered Brian Prelane.

The men’s eyes were on her. She knew she looked stunning in the tea-length black velvet Dubois Couture gown. Her eye was caught by Brian’s brother, Stuart, darkly handsome, taller than Brian but not as broad in the shoulders. More preppie than athlete. He waved her over. His arm came around her shoulders, and he bent to her ear. “I’m sure you’re enjoying this as little as I am. Why don’t we sneak out for espresso?”

Laurie looked around the room at the glittering lights, the glittering people. She nodded, and they went out the back. The hired valet brought his BMW, and Stuart let her in before walking around and taking the wheel.

“Am I allowed to leave my own party?”

He smiled. “You’re grieving. Anything’s forgivable.”

Laurie stared out the window. Grieving? She was grieving, but was it Brian’s death? They stopped at an upscale espresso bar. He let her out, set the car’s security alarm, and held out his arm. Tentatively she slipped her hand into the crook.

He ordered espresso. She had an almond cappuccino. They sat at a table for two against the windows. There was no chill in the California evening, not like the cold December of Montrose.

He sipped, then set down the cup. “May I be blunt?”

Laurie raised her brows. What was this? Had she failed somehow, and he would chastise her? “Say whatever you like.”

“I don’t think there was much love lost between you and my brother.” He raised a hand as she started to protest. “Maybe that’s an overstatement. But you did leave him.”

She looked down at her cup. “Under extenuating circumstances.” Would she have gone otherwise, walked away from all she had, even if it was empty and false?

“Don’t think I blame you. Brian was never easy to live with.” Stuart’s voice was sincere. His voice was always sincere, confident, connected, as though the person he was talking to was his only concern. No wonder he was so dynamic and successful. No wonder Brian had struggled to measure up. Not easy to live with? Try it from Brian’s side.

“The thing is, the family’s concerned.”

“Concerned?”

Stuart took another sip. “You know, and I know, that this hypedup version of Brian’s unfortunate death is not exactly factual.”

Laurie pressed her hands to the cup. Was he admitting what she’d already presumed? That the Prelanes had managed to spin the story, leaving Brian totally without guilt, and therefore her as well? She waited.

“They’re concerned that, well, as time passes, you might … move on. You’re a beautiful woman; you can’t have missed the attention already directed at you.”

Had they appointed him spokesman? Laurie could almost hear Stuart, Sr.
“Feel her out, son, see if she’s with us or against us.”

“I don’t understand, Stuart. What are you telling me?”

He reached across the table and took her hand. “Do you remember the night Brian brought you home to meet the family?”

She nodded. How would she forget? It was her first sight of Camelot.

“Well, I remember it too. I remember thinking, why did Brian find you and not me?”

Her pulse quickened, but it was uncomfortable. What was he saying? He’d coveted Brian’s wife? Stuart, the most eligible bachelor, who was never without a dazzling partner, though if he’d felt a passion for any of them it was the best kept secret of all. “Stuart …”

“I’m sure you think it’s horribly soon and tasteless for me to be saying this. But I want you to understand that my parents are in full agreement. They don’t want to lose you or the children. They don’t want to—”

“Lose control of the story?”

He cocked his head, one eye narrowed. “That was low.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Of course they’re concerned with their son’s legacy. You should be too. For the children’s sake. Do you really want them knowing their father flew drugs over the border, then double-crossed the dealers and was killed for it?”

How suave of him to leave her part out. “Of course not.”

“Then listen, Laurie.” He closed her hand in both of his. “If we begin a quiet engagement now, we can be married in a year, and everyone will benefit.”

She ought to laugh, but she didn’t. It was her invitation to remain permanently Prelane. As the older and now only son, Stuart was well on his way to a quarter-billion-dollar inheritance. The crown prince of the Prelane empire. He was handsome enough for the stage and had in fact done a significant number of quality amateur productions before his father’s reentry into business claimed his time.

And if Laurie was truly honest, she had wondered at times what it would be like if she’d married Stuart instead. He had the grace and confidence Brian lacked—and lacked the recklessness. He would be a solid presence, a father for Luke and Maddie.
“Married in a year, and everyone would benefit.”

“I suppose there would be a prenup reverting everything to you in case of divorce.”

“That is the protocol.” Stuart’s face softened. “But not reverting everything to me. This isn’t some trick to cheat you of your assets, though it’s understandable you’d be dubious. There wasn’t much trust between you and my brother.” His jaw twitched. “With his infidelities and … well, I’m surprised you stood it as long as you did.”

Laurie flushed. Had everyone known?

He threaded her fingers through his. “I’m not concerned with any of that. No prenup if you’re not comfortable, though for that matter it could protect you as well.” He stroked his thumb over her index finger.

It started to sink in what he was offering. She thought of Brian’s impetuous courting. He’d proposed on their first date. But then, wasn’t Stuar t doing the same? But he did it so coolly, almost detached.

“Is this a proposal or a merger?” The words were out before she considered how rude they sounded.

He quirked an eyebrow. “Are you asking if I love you?” She shrugged. Was she? Did she want to know?

“I thought we’d do better if I refrained from … anything too personal.” Then he smiled, Brian’s smile, with amusement in his eyes. He brought her hand up and kissed the fingers.

It was remarkable, really, how little she could feel. Maybe they were better suited than she knew. Laurie raised her cup and sipped the cappuccino.

The fire station lot was full when Cal pulled in, overflowing onto the street. What was going on? He circled and exited, parking the jeep on the grassy rise just off the pavement. Maybe Frank had called in all the volunteers for a meeting.

He set the brake and climbed out. It was warm for two days after Christmas. Not so warm you forgot it was December, though. He walked into the garage and stopped. Rob and Perry and Frank, along with at least two-dozen volunteers were packed in around the two trucks. Cal took in the crowd, all eyes on him. Had he worn his clown nose? “What?”

Rob stepped forward, holding out a wrapped package. “A little something from all of us.” He gave him a crooked grin. “Welcome back.”

Cal took the package and weighed it in his hands, again scanning the group. He could tell by the feel it was a fire ax, short handle. He pulled the paper off. They had spray-painted it gold.

“It’s the golden ax,” Rob said, “to replace your golden tongue now that you’ll be doing more than shooting off your mouth at banquets and civic events.”

“Yeah.” Perry squeezed to the front. “And the first thing you can use it on is that idiot puppet.”

The group laughed.

Cal shook his head. “No way. Rocky and I are partners. Inseparable. I might let him handle a hose someday.”

He shifted the ax to his right hand and felt its balance, like an extension of his own arm. He flipped it around and held it by the head the way he would to search for victims in low visibility conditions. As he had for Ashley Trainor. The thought brought sadness, but no shakes, no screams. “I don’t know what to say, guys.”

“Never thought
you’d
be at a loss for words.” Perry smirked. “I still say ax the puppet.”

“I think I’ll put him on the engineer’s panel.”

“You’re both wrong.” Frank pushed forward and held up his hands to quiet the chatter. “It’s true Cal’s coming back active, but there’s something else too. The city of Montrose has requested we not fold the educational project. Rather, they’ve funded a pilot program to be of Cal Morrison’s design for use throughout the city
and
any neighboring cities and townships that choose to implement it.”