On Her Father's Grave (Rogue River #1)(14)

Zane took a long drink of the iced tea. It wasn’t just iced tea, he realized. It was blended with lemonade. And vodka.

Welcome to dinner at the Taylors’. Where the beer and hard alcohol flowed freely, and he could always count on entertaining company and good food. His back relaxed for the first time that day. He’d wondered how dinner would be without Big Bill’s presence, but Patsy and the Taylor kids’ chatter and warmth were a constant that almost filled the hole.

Almost.

Bill’s absence was fresh, but this was a family with backbones of steel and they weren’t going to let Bill’s death drag them down for long. They’d mourned; Zane had seen it. They’d always miss their father, but they still had each other and they valued their family time. It was part of what had lured him into the Taylor trap. All those people who were related and actually liked being with each other. And now that Stevie was back, he’d finally get to experience the whole picture.

He took a large rack of ribs and passed the platter to Debra, watching Stevie talk quietly with Eric. Eric Hearne was a good guy. Zane had met him the first week he’d moved to town. He’d never had to visit Eric’s house at two in the morning to tell him the neighbors were complaining of noise, or pull him over because he couldn’t keep his 4x4 in the correct lane. Eric’s divorce two years ago had knocked him for a loop, but he’d come around. His wife had cheated on him and then moved to Sacramento with another man.

“I bet you had a busy day, Zane,” Bruce commented as he plopped a big scoop of potato salad on his plate.

“Yes, luckily not much else was going on so I could focus on Hunter’s death. The only other call today was that someone was shooting off fireworks at the graveyard.”

Across from him, Carly snorted and elbowed Stevie. Bruce laughed and started coughing. “Kinda no point to shoot those off during the day, you know? You can’t see much,” Carly said. Stevie had ignored the elbow and focused on her ear of corn.

“I sent Kenny over to take a look. He didn’t see anyone, but found some cardboard remnants of the shells.”

“No police work talk, please,” Patsy said. “Carly, is Brianna doing day camp this summer?”

“Sorry, ma’am. I forgot,” answered Zane at the same time Bruce apologized. He let the conversation flow around him and covertly studied Stevie. She and Carly were clearly sisters, with the same shape of face and hair color. She’d changed out of her uniform into a wispy sundress that he could almost see through. In spite of the heat, her hair hung down her back, longer than he’d expected after seeing it pulled back all day. She didn’t look like a cop from Solitude or LA.

She looked like someone who should be reading a book in a swinging hammock, without a care in the world.

Conversation spun with ease for the next hour. Bruce and James were natural comedians whose goal seemed to be to outdo each other. They kept the table in stitches. Currently they were trading Jeff Foxworthy–style redneck jokes.

“You know you’re from a small town if you call the wrong number and you know the person you called,” stated Bruce.

“I’ve done that!” Carly slapped her forehead.

“Local gas stations sell live bait,” countered James.

“Well, thank goodness,” said Bruce. “Who has time to dig their own worms?”

No one mentioned their missing father. He noticed Patsy looking wistful several times, usually as she gazed at one of her children, and Zane wondered if she was watching for the elements of Bill in each one. Each kid had a piece of Bill somewhere. It was probably the toughest to find in Bruce, but Zane saw it in his gentle handling of Patsy. She often patted Bruce’s hand or shoulder in affection for her youngest child.

Debra sat down after her sixth trip to the kids’ table to settle a dispute between her boys. James said something under his breath to her, and Debra slammed her hands on the tabletop. “Then you take care of it!” She pushed back her chair and vanished into the kitchen.

The table went quiet and James turned a shade of red.

“Sorry,” he mumbled and took another drink of his beer.

Zane glanced at Patsy and his heart cracked at the pain on her face.

“Go talk to her,” she told James.

James shook his head. “It’s fine.”

“A woman who storms away from the table is not fine. Go talk to her. And listen to what she needs to say; don’t get defensive,” Patsy urged.

Carly’s face had paled during the incident, and Zane wondered what had happened with her husband. In his dealings with Seth, he’d met a straight-up guy. A Rogue County police investigator, Seth could have been a real dick to a small-town cop like Zane, but instead he’d been respectful.

James slowly pushed back from the table and followed his wife. Patsy shook her head, her gaze following him. She turned to eye the other men at the table. “That’s a cry for understanding and attention from her man,” she said firmly. “You all know Debra isn’t one for making a scene.” Patsy reached out and snagged the T-shirt of the five-year-old who’d decided to follow his father. She pulled the boy onto her lap and squeezed him in a massive hug.

All the men nodded, and Zane found himself agreeing. Something wasn’t right in James-and-Debra-land.

“Everybody finished?” Stevie asked and stood at the same time, collecting her and Carly’s plates. Eric immediately pushed back his chair, grabbing the plates out of her hands. The warm smile she offered him made Zane swallow hard.