The Memory of You (Sanctuary Sound #1)(91)

Her doctor had given her an explanation that satisfied her. That should be enough.

“Now you’re just being stupid.” Claire finished the quiche, then grabbed a box of Golden Grahams from the cabinet and started eating them right from the box. “You keep focusing on the worst-case scenario, but what if you’re wrong? What if there could be help?”

“Let’s not talk about me.” Steffi reached for a handful of cereal, too. “I’m worried about you. Are you feeling better now?”

“Not really.” She shoved another fistful of cereal into her mouth.

“Did Logan say something specific? Did he deliver a message from Peyton?”

“No. It was just him being him . . . and the way he looks.” Claire closed the box and set it on the counter.

“What’s wrong with the way he looks?”

“It’s annoyingly perfect, like Peyton. And then sometimes he looks at me like . . .” Her cheeks got red, and she pushed hair away from her eyes. “I don’t know. It makes me uncomfortable.”

Ryan’s commentary drifted through Steffi’s mind. “You used to like Logan.”

“Everyone did.” Claire raised her hands overhead. “I was a tween, and he was the town god.”

“Fair enough.” Steffi preferred Ryan’s more rugged features. “I’m sure he didn’t set out to make you uncomfortable.”

“He gets me so tongue-tied. I couldn’t think of what to say when he was talking about Peyton. I sputtered . . .” Claire covered her eyes with her hands.

Steffi tempered the smile she felt forming. Ryan might’ve been onto something. “Sounds like maybe you do still harbor a little crush.”

“Not for Peyton’s brother!” she insisted, now reaching for an apple and a paring knife. “I was furious that he confronted me in front of people. Dang it, I shouldn’t have to defend my decision not to talk to Peyton. He’s got no right to corner me in public. See! I’m still mad.”

“I do see.” Steffi took the knife from her hand. “Let’s put this down until you’re calmer.”

Claire kept a tight grip on the apple. “You need to talk Peyton out of coming back here. Please, Steffi. I’ve tried not to put you in the middle of this, but this town is all I have. She can go anywhere and do anything. Please ask her to go somewhere else.”

Steffi hugged her friend. “I’m sorry you’re this upset, but we can’t tell Peyton she can’t come home to recover. Maybe it’s what she needs to get stronger. To regroup. You’ve cut her out of your life, but surely you don’t want to interfere with her recovery. Let’s find a way to prepare you so whenever she does show up, you’re not this upset.”

Claire glared at her and huffed. “Thanks for nothing.” She then bit into the apple and limped off.

“Claire!” Steffi watched her go to the front of the house. “Where are you going?”

“To my mom’s.” Claire pulled her jacket back on and tugged at the zipper.

Steffi trotted to the front door. “Don’t run off. I’m sorry. Let’s find another way that I can help.”

“You’re not helping. You keep pushing me to defer to Peyton, just like you push with our business. You’ve got me fretting about money. Now I have to worry about seeing Peyton. I don’t need all this stress.” Claire grabbed her cane, ranting, “My mom is on my side. She won’t make me feel like Peyton is the wronged party. And if we end up baking something chocolate, all the better.”



“Didn’t go well?” Billy asked Ryan over lunch at a McDonald’s near the courthouse.

Ryan never much liked fast food, but it was cheap, and the fries weren’t half-bad.

“No.” Ryan swallowed some soda, wishing he could have something stronger. “The DA’s taking a hard line, and Owen won’t take a plea that requires some jail time. I can’t believe this could go to trial.”

“This case is sort of high profile now.” Billy nodded thoughtfully. “When a jury sees the size of Owen compared with her, you’ll have a hard time making him look innocent.”

“I know. He’s like the Hulk.” Ryan blew out a breath. “I wish I could put him on the stand. Hearing an IQ level is one thing, but seeing his childlike thought process in action would help me persuade them that he didn’t understand the transaction.”

“Why not put him up there?”

“It’s rarely wise to let a defendant testify, especially one who could be easily misled and manipulated.” Ryan wiped his hands with a napkin and tossed it aside. “I wish we’d have found better evidence to exonerate him.”

“If only there weren’t so many rules about collecting it.” Billy grimaced.

The justice system afforded protections to all sides; however, Billy’s hacking talents and personal contacts could be useful in other ways. His brother was a cop, after all.

Ryan glanced around to make sure no one who knew them was in the vicinity, then lowered his voice. “Billy, I need a favor . . . a personal favor, but you’re free to say no. There’s no pressure.”

“Sounds intriguing.” Billy cocked a brow, waiting for the details.

This request could get Ryan sanctioned or fired. Maybe even disbarred. He hunched forward, partly covering his mouth. “I have a friend, Stefanie Lockwood. She was mugged in Hartford near the convention center sometime during late spring. I know there were police and hospital reports, but no suspects were apprehended.”