“All in due time. The judge keeps me hopping.” Caroline looked ready for a pleasant afternoon outside. Her perfect sundress showed off her slim figure, and she wore a wide-brimmed hat that would shield her from any hint of sun that dared slip inside. She sank onto her chair and took a sip from a glass of iced tea that had condensation running down the outside.
Jaime Nichols, on the other hand, looked more than ready for a day far away from humid Virginia. Her black hair had corkscrewed around her head, and her glasses threatened to slip down her nose. “I’m so glad someone invented air-conditioning.” She stood for quick hugs, then sat back down.
Angela Thrasher smiled from her chair. “It’s good to see you, Emilie.” She shifted but didn’t stand, twirling a straw through the glass in front of her. She seemed distracted as she adjusted her cardigan. The thin woman was always cold.
Emilie nodded, still trying to get used to the fact that Hayden had hauled her former friendly rival at Elliott & Johnson into their circle. “Nice to see you again, Angela.”
“We’re almost all here.” Hayden pulled another chair to their table and sank onto it.
Emilie frowned as she looked at her cadre plus one. “Who’s missing?”
“Savannah. She wants to catch up with everyone, and this was the perfect time.” Hayden had a self-satisfied tilt to her head. “She’s scheming and wants to share something with us.”
Jaime frowned, Angela looked unconcerned, and Caroline commented that it would be good to see their law school mentor. Savannah Daniels had provided a safe place for Hayden to land when her firm had unceremoniously fired her a few months before. Hayden’s efforts to build her own base of clients was taking shape and turning into a success, thanks to the older woman. And from what Emilie had heard, Angela was starting to have similar success. What would it be like to have someone believe in her like Savannah believed in them?
The ambient noise of music playing in the background, along with the conversations ricocheting off the tile and wood floors, provided a noisy background that settled over her. She sank onto an empty chair. “It’s good to be here.”
Hayden grinned at all of them and leaned on the table. “Andrew’s taking me to the Kennedy Center tomorrow night for an off-Broadway show.”
“That explains why you were suddenly free today.” Emilie placed her drink order and then set the white cloth napkin across her lap. It was nice to be with the girls.
“That sounds fun, Hayden. Andrew is so good to you.” Caroline practically swooned in her chair.
“He is.”
Jaime took a sip of her water. “How are you doing, Emilie? What a week for you.” The words were right, but her shoulders were stiff and her gaze distant.
“It wasn’t my best.” Emilie leaned forward, trying to meet Jaime’s gaze. “Are you okay?”
“Fine. I want to know how you are.”
“Not so good.” Emilie was relieved when Savannah chose that moment to arrive in a swirl of skirts and energy.
Her arrival distracted everyone until new hugs had been exchanged. Then Savannah settled on the chair next to Emilie, turned toward her, and with great concern asked, “How are you?”
Reid swiped another fry through the mound of salted ketchup on his plate. So that was what Kaylene’s attorney looked like. There was a vivacity to her that didn’t come across in website photos. The question was whether she could help him. He pushed the thought away to consider later, when he was alone. This was the first real meal he’d had since Brandon had brought him Chinese earlier in the week, and his stomach demanded he give the food the attention it deserved. Amazing how a guy could live on Clif Bars and Powerade.
Brandon wolfed down another big bite of his double cheeseburger with extra bacon, then wiped a napkin across his face. “So, you know that woman?”
Reid paused, the fry halfway to his mouth. “What woman?”
Brandon jerked his chin toward a table by the wall. “The one you ran over with your chair. She’s focused on you.”
Reid returned her stare, noting the blush that crept up her neck in response. She was cute, with her hair pulled up in a casual way, a few blonde strands escaping around her face. He looked away. Then he looked again.
A chuckle pulled his attention from her to the oaf across from him.
“Should I get her number for you?”
Reid maturely kicked him in the shin under the table. “I’ve already got it, actually.”
Brandon looked surprised. “What will you do with it?”
“Not much. I don’t have your beefy charm.”
That elicited another guffaw from his friend. “It’s all these leftover football muscles.”
Leftover nothing. Brandon remained friendly with the local gym, a carry-over from his playing days, but a discipline not all his former teammates had adopted.
“I need to tell you what I found.” As they ate, Reid filled him in on the boxes and letter from Kaylene.
“So what did she mean? ‘Take care of the girls’?”
“I’m not sure.” Reid dipped the last fry in his ketchup. “I knew she wasn’t happy, but she wouldn’t talk about it. Guess it wasn’t something her unmarried baby brother was supposed to understand.” Except she’d written the letter—but then tucked it in a place he might not discover for a long time.
“Someone’s got to know.” Brandon leaned forward. “If she didn’t talk to you, who would she have talked to?”
“Her attorney.” Reid’s gaze slipped over to the table filled with women, who were now hugging an older woman who had just arrived.
“Kaylene had an attorney?”
“Yes. In fact, that woman I ‘ran over’ is her attorney.”
“Then I’d go talk to her.”
“She’s out with friends. And I need to pray about it first. I’ll call her first thing Monday.” It was the weekend, after all, and while he worked crazy hours, chances were good she wouldn’t get his message until then. Attorneys didn’t exactly serve on call. “I’ll leave a message, then head to the hospital. Robert hasn’t returned my calls, but maybe he’s too busy with Kinley. I want to see how she’s doing. I’d like to learn when Kaydence’s funeral is too.”
They finished the meal with a minimum of conversation. Brandon washed down his burger with the remnants of his watery Coke. “Ready to go?”
Reid nodded and stood. With one last glance at Emilie, he followed his friend from the restaurant and back to the questions that dogged him.
CHAPTER 9
Emilie nibbled on her fingernail, a habit she thought she’d broken long ago. The stress of this week had brought it back. Was there a diplomatic way to answer Savannah’s question without the meal turning into an analyze-Emilie’s-emotional-state debacle? “I’m fine.”
Savannah looked at her, eyebrow raised, but the server arrived to take their orders. When she left, their mentor must have decided not to pursue that line of questioning.
“Ladies, what Hayden and I are doing at the law firm is working well. Bringing in Angela has been seamless. We each have our own clients and freedom to take on who we want but share space.” Savannah’s warm eyes lit with passion and her hands gestured almost as fast as her words tumbled out. “There’s still a lot of room in that big ol’ office suite. I’d like the rest of you to consider the same setup. I know you, and you know me. We would share costs, but all your profits from your clients go to you.”
Emilie wondered if such a system could work for her. Not likely, when most of her clients were trapped in domestic situations they couldn’t escape in part because of a lack of resources. At least some funding would have to come from outside sources, as it did at the Haven, or she’d have to do a high volume of client work. She considered the question as their food arrived and the conversation slowed. Way too much risk for her.
Hayden leaned toward her. “You okay?”
“Sure.” The work she did used to fire her zeal, with one victory fueling her for a month of tough wor
k. Now one devastating miss had depleted her enthusiasm.
“How would it work when we’re all engaged in different areas of law?” Jaime’s question was a good one. “I do criminal work, and Caroline’s clerkship would best translate to appellate work—”
“And I’m a nonprofit attorney.” Emilie mouthed I’m sorry to Jaime for interrupting. Jaime merely shrugged, further evidence she wasn’t herself. “I don’t see how that can work in a for-profit setting.”
Savannah shook her head, short hair bobbing around her face. “You might be surprised. There are things you can do to make it more cost effective, and your legal work isn’t all you do.”
“True.” Emilie wasn’t about to tell them that her town house had been a gift from her grandmother. They might assume she was a woman born with a silver spoon in her mouth; there was no need to confirm it. Some months she barely made it by with her salary from the Haven plus her freelance writing—occasionally she dipped into her trust fund to pay the bills. Without that, she couldn’t afford to live inside the Beltway. She would have had to talk her way into a big firm job rather than taking the more meaningful work. But there was no need to tell the others all that . . . or how she couldn’t take on more legal work without losing herself completely in her clients’ stories.
She loved what she did, but the drain was real. There was an emotional cost to helping women and children in crisis. It was a cost she weighed heavily each time a new client came through the doors, yet it helped to share with them her own story. She could see the moment clients realized she understood.
The thought of taking on the added strain of making sure money was coming in to fund her work was too much. While she could use her trust fund for maintaining her lifestyle, she didn’t want to use it to finance her work.
The buzz of excited conversation washed over her in a tide. Even Jaime seemed to catch Savannah’s enthusiasm, though Emilie knew it wouldn’t last. Jaime tended to flash hot or cold depending on the day and how her job was going. This must have been a rough week.
“I’m considering making a change,” Jaime said. “But I’m not sure this is it.”
Savannah eyed her with a calm knowing. “You’ll need to deal with the past eventually.”
Jaime stiffened. “The past is behind me.” Yet the shadows in her eyes belied her words.
“Are you having nightmares again?” Emilie asked.
“I’m fine.” Jaime forced a smile, but the faint tremor left Emilie wondering.
She looked across the restaurant, and her gaze met Reid Billings’. His friend sat beyond him, big and protective as he had been at the funeral, open curiosity in his expression, but he wasn’t looking at her. He seemed to be captured by her table as a whole. Well, it wasn’t surprising—her friends were beautiful enough to catch any man’s eye. The big guy didn’t seem the least bit daunted, even though, as a group, the women tended to overwhelm people with their enthusiasm. There was a certain energy to her friends’ gestures and conversation. They owned their passions and wore their emotions on their sleeves, even Caroline with her strong sense of Southern propriety.
Another reason Emilie had always felt she didn’t quite belong.
Hayden gently elbowed her. “So what do you think?”
Emilie rubbed the spot with a mock frown. “I’ll consider it.”
Savannah reached across the table and took her hand with a concerned smile. “I told you gals we’d lost her. We’re thinking about seeing a movie, Em. There’s a flashback release at the art theater in Shirlington. Bringing Up Baby. You’ll laugh.”
“You won’t cry anyway,” Jaime inserted with an eye roll.
Savannah laughed. “But we’ll eat greasy theater popcorn and enjoy a gorgeous young Cary Grant.”
Caroline mock-swooned. “Y’all know I’m in. You had me at Cary.”
Emilie could feel her walls shifting. While there were other things she needed to do, she wanted even more to be with this group of friends who knew her and liked her anyway. She glanced at her watch and did a quick calculation. It was only an overnight trip, so packing would be quick. She’d still have time to prepare for the hearing before catching the shuttle flight to Virginia Beach Sunday afternoon. And she definitely needed the break and the chance to remember the world wasn’t entirely colored in shades of tragedy.
“Okay, but no popcorn. I’m stuffed from this.” She waved at the empty dishes that cluttered the table.
“Then it’s settled.” Hayden waved toward their server. “Let’s get the bill paid and go enjoy some air-conditioning at the theater’s expense.”
The elevator doors opened with a ding that exposed the hospital’s hallway. It was so white the light glared off the surfaces that smelled sterile but probably crawled with all kinds of nasty germs. Plastic flags alongside each door were flipped in different directions as visual cues to the medical staff hurrying along the floor. Reid curled his nose against the smell and wished he could be anywhere else as his stomach rebelled from the hamburger and fries he’d inhaled.
Brandon hadn’t come with him—coward—but Reid couldn’t blame him. One late hit early in his professional career had left his friend in the hospital long enough for a lifetime.
It was okay. Reid had faced down multibillion-dollar deals. He could handle seeing his niece. In an intensive care, private room.
But his feet stayed rooted in the elevator.
“Is it going up?” A nurse’s kind voice jerked him back to the moment.
“I think so.” He slid his arm through the opening to hold the door as she entered, then stepped out. The volunteer at the information desk had told him Kinley’s room was in the far northwest corner. Room 436. He glanced at the signs pointing down the different hallways, then started down the correct one.
A few nurses and a technician passed him, but nobody questioned where he was headed.
Except him. Being here, in this place, was wrong.
He’d wanted to come earlier, but Robert had ordered him to wait. Now that Kaylene’s service was past, maybe he could start finding some sort of footing with the man. They’d have to get along for Kinley’s sake, so he was here to begin that process and see for himself how his niece was recovering.
The sound of hushed voices and the whooshing and beeping of machines filtered from the rooms that lined the hallway. In the rooms whose doors were open he saw an empty bed, then a family clustered around another bed, then a teenager lying in darkness, the multicolored light from the television keeping him company. Then he reached Kinley’s door.
He paused. Father, You have to help me.
This was the last place Kinley should be. Yet it was better than dead.
The thought felt heavy, cold, and real.
He patted his pocket where Kaylene’s letter rested against his chest. He would do this for his sister, even though he didn’t understand what was behind her request. He would do this for his young niece, who had been robbed of her mother and sister. He would do this to find answers for the questions clouding his mind.
He turned the knob and pushed open the door, then stopped when he saw Robert sitting in the chair next to the bed. Kinley lay on the bed, blonde hair splayed around her on the stark-white pillow, face slack, chest bandaged. A young girl strapped to more machines than he could ever hope to understand. Her ten-year-old frame looked too small in the bed designed for an adult.
Robert stirred and looked at him with the arrogant air he always wore, as if everyone else should be honored to stand in his presence. Then a mask fell over his features, as if he remembered he played a role. A part that should be natural.
“Reid.”
“Robert.”
Curt words exchanged by men who even after sixteen years of Robert’s marriage to Kaylene conveyed a distance that was as real as it was hard for Reid to understand.
Reid cleared his throat. “How is Kinley?”
“How does she look?” The words were as rough as the man’s stubbled face. “Kaylene
nearly succeeded in stealing both of my daughters from me.”
“What happened?”
“You tell me. She was your sister.”
Reid stepped back as if Robert had punched him. “She didn’t talk to me.”
“Guess that makes two of us.”
“She used to talk all the time.”
“Nonstop.”
Reid wanted to smile, but it didn’t seem that Robert was making a joke. “What are the doctors saying? About Kinley?”
“Nothing I’m sharing with you.” Robert stood and seemed to puff even bigger as he moved to get between Reid and Kinley in the bed. “Your sister is the reason my little girl is here.”
Reid put his hands in front of him. “I just want to know how my niece is.”
“Then you can check with the nurses’ desk. They might tell you, but I doubt it.” Robert’s gaze was intense, burning, but his voice remained calm. “I’m not prepared to have anyone from your family near my remaining child. Consider this your last look.”
Reid took a step back. “I’ll come back later. When things are calmer.”
“You didn’t listen. You’re. Not. Welcome.” The last word sounded like a gong in the small space.
Reid glanced around Kinley, noting that one of the monitors showed heightened activity. Was that her heartbeat? Could she hear their argument from the depths of her coma? He wouldn’t risk upsetting her and worsening her condition. He’d find another way to learn how she was.
“I’ll leave.” He stopped in the doorway. “But remember, I’m her uncle, Robert. I love her and I will be part of her life.” Kaylene’s pleas echoed in his mind, and he felt the weight of her letter against his chest. What had she been afraid of, and why hadn’t she said something when she could? “I’ll see you at Kaydence’s funeral.”
“You missed the private service—it was only for close family.” Robert crossed his arms and stood with his legs apart as if rooted into the floor in front of Kinley’s bed. There was a tilt to his chin that dared Reid to try anything.
“But the medical examiner hasn’t released their bodies.” Steam filled Reid, and he could feel his anger in the pounding of his heart.
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