On Her Father's Grave (Rogue River #1)(8)

“I’ve had four calls already about Hunter’s death and those were on my cell phone! I don’t know how people got that number. I’m headed in to see how many dozens of messages I have on the landline in the office, but I thought I’d first ask what you’ve found out.” James wiped at his forehead. “I can’t f*cking believe it. Nothing like this has happened in ages.”

“I don’t know much new information,” said Zane slowly. James, of course, knew that Roy had stepped down. “I’m sure Roy told you there wasn’t any sign of injury. At least from what we could see in the dark. We’ll know more once the ME has completed his examination.”

“What about Peter? What made you bring him in so early?”

Zane paused. “Well, that was his father’s way of torturing him a bit. Kenny told him to bring Peter in at some point today because he’d been right there when Hunter collapsed.”

“Oh. He know anything helpful?” James’s questioning brown gaze held Zane’s.

Zane felt his defenses shoot up. Why all the direct questions? James had to know it was too early for answers. “Nothing yet. He’s a sad and scared kid at the moment. Nauseated too.”

“I bet.”

Zane watched in fascination as James tilted his head in the exact same manner as Stevie. Did all the siblings do that? Come to think of it, he’d seen the youngest Taylor brother, Bruce, do the same thing.

A stilted silence filled the hall. Does James feel odd about the new professional relationship between us? Before today most of his interactions with Zane had been as mayor to cop. Now it was mayor to police chief. Zane was suddenly equal in the city’s view.

James seemed to realize he wasn’t going to learn anything more from Zane. “Okay. I just needed to know what to say to people when they call.”

“Just tell them we’re saddened and investigating,” Zane said simply. The public didn’t need to know any more than that. Rumors were probably growing and flying about. There was no need to add to them.

“I’ll do that.” James turned away, then abruptly spun back around. “Say, why don’t you come to the house for dinner tonight? Mom does a big dinner on Memorial Day, and she always says the more the merrier. I know she’d love to have you. It’s going to be the whole family and whoever else we can convince to join us.”

Zane started to decline but James cut him off. “I won’t take no for an answer. You were a good friend to my dad and Mom needs to see those friends are still around right now.”

James was right, damn it. Zane hadn’t been to the big house since Bill died. He’d offered his condolences to Patsy at the funeral but had kept his distance since, not wanting to intrude on the family’s sorrow. The last thing he wanted to do was make Patsy believe he was avoiding her. And he’d get a chance to observe how Stevie interacted with her family.

“I’ll be there. Wouldn’t miss it.”

James grinned and slapped him on the shoulder. “Great! You’re gonna make her day. Can’t wait.”





CHAPTER 3


It pained Stevie to see that the marker they’d chosen for her father’s grave wasn’t finished, even though she knew it wasn’t scheduled to be ready for several weeks. The flat metal plate marking his grave seemed disrespectful. It didn’t show the great man her father had been. She wanted people who walked by to see his marker and think, “Wow. That must have been someone special.” She and her family had pooled their money to purchase a huge double marker. Someday her mother would lie beside him again. Stevie had argued against the double marker but Patsy had overruled her. As usual.

“What if you marry again, Mom? You’re not old.”

Her mother had given her a look that could have killed a weaker person. “There will only be your father for me. In this life and the next.”

Stevie had said no more. When her mother made up her mind, it never changed.

She glanced around the quiet graveyard and, seeing no one, settled into the grass on her knees to have a talk with her dad. During college she’d called every week and spoken with both of her parents. After college those calls had gotten further and further apart. She was busy with work and life. What did she have to talk to her parents about? What new animals her mom had rescued? DUIs her father had issued?

Now it was too late. She hadn’t spoken with her father for a month when her sister Carly had called her, sobbing and barely able to speak to tell her that Dad had died from a heart attack.

Stevie blew out a breath and wiped at her eyes. Shock still rattled her. So many words left unsaid between her and her father. She’d always assumed there would be time to tell him she loved him and missed him. Time to tell him how much she hated Los Angeles, and that he’d been right that the quality of life in Solitude couldn’t be matched. So what if the only place here to buy clothes was a Macy’s over an hour away? That’s why there was UPS. But when she’d left Solitude at the age of eighteen, it’d seemed very important.

Life was about family and doing what made you happy. Not about trying to look like everyone else and be seen driving the right car.

How come I was thirty before I learned that my parents were right? About nearly everything?

She yanked at the green slivers of grass and let them fall from her fingers. The graveyard was in a lovely spot with tall firs and the rushing sounds of the Rogue River running by at the bottom of the hill. Coolness seeped from the ground and through her uniform. A welcome relief in the unusual May heat wave. It was just before noon but already pushing ninety degrees. Her dad had hated the heat. He’d said that if he wanted to be a baked human he’d live in Palm Springs. He’d stayed in Solitude, where the air was comfortably warm during the summer and not too cool during the winter. He’d been the third generation of his family to live in the area.