On Her Father's Grave (Rogue River #1)(9)

Now his children were the fourth.

Her younger sister Carly had wanted to stay in her hometown, get married, work, and raise her family. Even when her marriage with Seth had started to crumble, Carly hadn’t wanted to leave. “Why would I leave my home and take Brianna away from everything she’s ever known?” she’d said to Stevie’s suggestion she bring her seven-year-old daughter to LA to possibly put down new roots.

Stevie had known it was a poor idea the minute she’d said it. But she was lonely and had just gone through a nasty breakup and simply wanted some family close by. She hadn’t been able to think straight since the breakup. She didn’t seriously think about going home until she returned for the funeral and stepped in the door of the house where she’d grown up, and remembered how strong a force her mother wielded. In a good way. In a loving, giving, supportive way. She’d known instantly that everything would be all right. And that she needed to return for good to get her life back on track. It’d been the answer to her weeks of despair.

After the funeral she’d accepted the offer of a job from Roy, pissed off her sergeant with a five-day notice, and packed up a U-Haul with her belongings. She’d driven the winding Pacific Coast Highway the entire way to Oregon from LA, wanting to take in the blue water and enjoy her time exploring the coast. It was a healing time, and she drove slowly, stopping to eat and shop whenever the fancy struck. She spent two nights in tiny seaside hotels with skimpy rough towels and “Color TV.” By the time she made it to Solitude, her mind was open and ready to embrace a new life. She ached to be a daily part of her mother’s and siblings’ routines. Her father’s abrupt death had opened her eyes and prioritized her life.

“Hey, sorry I’m late.”

Stevie looked up at the sound of Carly’s voice.

“Hey, Dad. How’s it going?” Carly spoke to the metal marker, a sad smile on her face.

Her eyes were red and Stevie suspected she’d taken a private moment to get some tears out of her system before approaching her sister. Carly wasn’t the type to let anyone see her cry.

“Were you okay to get away from work?” Carly asked. “It’s got to be a madhouse there today.”

Carly needed to experience the LAPD.

“Yes, it’s pretty busy. I told them I was grabbing lunch and would be back soon,” said Stevie. “The whole town wants to know what happened to Hunter. The ME should have something for us soon.”

“Horrible,” said Carly, shaking her head. “That young boy.”

“Did you know him? Or work with his family?” As a social worker, Carly interacted with a lot of the families in town.

“I know who Hunter is. I haven’t dealt with the family in any official way.”

Stevie thought of the obnoxious drunk father from that morning. “What about Ted Warner? He seems like the type to have a kid with a file on your desk.”

“Ted Warner? Loretta Warner’s husband? Why do you ask about him? You remember Loretta, right?” Carly asked.

Stevie shook her head.

“She was a year behind you,” added Carly. “She had a baby her freshman year.”

“Oh, her!” Stevie remembered clearly. The teenage pregnancy had been the town gossip for a full year. And obviously the story had stuck to Loretta like glue, since that was all it had taken to prod Stevie’s memory.

Small Town Rule #2: Reputations are made in five seconds and stick for twenty years. Or more.

“I know who Ted and Loretta’s son is. Young teen, right? Good kid. Rotten parents.” Carly changed the subject. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked.

“Did you bring the stuff?” Stevie eyed the huge duffle bag Carly had dropped next to the grave, not answering Carly’s question because it seemed wrong to admit she wanted to do something illegal.

“Yes, but it’s not going to be much to see because of the time of day.”

“We’ll do more when it’s dark. I wanted to do some with just the two of us like he used to do when we were little. He was more into the sounds than the sight anyway.”

“I hate the noise,” Carly said succinctly.

Stevie laughed. “Me too. I never understood why that was his favorite part.”

“I never understood why he didn’t bring the boys.”

“I think he was afraid they’d turn into fire starters. James had an issue with matches, remember? Mom said Dad had to share it with some of us kids, I guess he thought us girls would be more responsible about it. He insisted on setting them off whether it was New Year’s, Memorial Day, or the Fourth of July.” Stevie’s eyes watered. “It was one of my favorite traditions with him. And it was more special because he’d always take just the two of us.”

“I miss him so much,” Carly said softly. “It still hasn’t sunk in.”

“I know. There’re pictures of him up at the office. He still feels so real . . . like he should come walking in at any minute. Seeing Zane or Roy in his chair just doesn’t seem right.”

“Do they want to keep the photos or can we have them?” Carly asked.

Stevie paused. “I don’t know. I don’t think anyone would mind if I took them, but I sort of want them to stay in the office. I don’t want people to forget.”