Nate understood that.And Nate was alone too.
Well, not alone.Sam was something like a complicated shadow.But it didn’t feel so much like third wheeling hanging out with them.Not like it did with theengagedcouple up at the ranch.
Close, but not quite.
Nate and Sam stepped into the dark room of the bar.Cal watched them carefully.He found the two of them an intriguing puzzle—much more interesting than any other puzzle that currently occupied his brain.
They spent alotof time together.He thought there were alotof longing glances involved.But considering they were both unattached, reasonable adults, he couldn’t understand all that… tension.
Sure, Sam was technically Nate’s boss, but this wasn’t some corporation with an HR department.So, he didn’t understand why they just didn’t sleep together and get it over with.
He raised his nearly empty glass as they approached.“Head start.”
“I didn’t realize you’d called mefromthe bar,” Nate said, sliding onto the stool next to him.Sam surprised him by taking the other one next to him, rather than over by Nate.
He was flanked.
Sam shrugged out of her coat, leaned across the bar to be heard by the bartender.
Cal had never given Sam Price much of a thought prior to this summer.Landon and Aly had nursed their whole feud with her since Sam’s dad had been arrested for killing Mom, but Cal had never really had any feelings about her one way or another.Maybe that had been easy because he hadn’t lived here.
But suddenly he was here in Montana alot, and Sam Price was in his orbit a lot of that time too.So he noticed.
She was one of those women who somehow used swagger and confidence and a straightforwardness to appear…tallerthan she really was.But she was short, an interesting compact body.She was straightforward, all sharp angles and direct stares and words.
Not his type—he’d always liked something a little soft—but interesting, nonetheless.And part of thatinterestwas at least partially motivated by how much Nate would not like it.He looked over at his brother now, who was indeed scowling.So he flashed Nate a grin.
Nate pretended like he didn’t notice.But he noticed.Which improved Cal’s mood considerably.
“So, Sam, you talk to the lawyer?”
“Yeah, few days back.He doesn’t want to get too far off track by bringing my old investigation into it, just focus on certain pieces.Then obviously my role this spring.”
“You got an idea of when you’ll go up?”Nate asked Cal as the bartender put Nate’s and Sam’s drinks in front of them.
Cal shook his head.“Depends.They really want to solidify the crime itself before they delve into the background.It’s a solid move.Make sure the jury understands the severity, the violence, thepersonal natureof the crime, then slowly build up the identity of the victim.That’s where we’ll come in.It’ll take some time to get there.Mr.Vanderbilt is thorough.”
Nate shifted uncomfortably.Cal didn’t need to be a mind reader to have seen that Nate wasn’t happy about the lawyer going overpersonal familyquestions this afternoon.Build a sunny picture of their mother.
But shehadbeen sun in all that dark.Cal assumed that his mother’s warmth was what allowed his father’s evil to hide in plain sight for all those years.And it had also allowed him and his brothers to survive—maybe they were three traumatized, broken SOBs, but they weren’t their father.There was something good somewhere in all of them, and it was because of her.
Cal looked down at his drink, any good mood soured at the memory of his mother and the way she’d died.So needlessly.So unfairly.
“I thought you weren’t worried,” Nate said after Cal downed half his glass in one gulp.
He motioned the bartender for a refill as he answered Nate.“I’m not.Not about the outcome.”Which wasn’t the total truth, but it wasmostlythe truth.
It was a solid case.Cal thought Vanderbilt was a better lawyer than Dad’s.Cal had made sure of it.It’d take quite the coup from the defense to wriggle Dad out of a guilty verdict.
“Then what are you worried about?”Sam asked.She took a dainty sip of her beer.
Cal took a long,longdrink of his newly refilled scotch.Not high dollar, but it’d do the trick.“The shit sandwich that is going to be gettingtothe outcome.”And probablyafterthe outcome.
He knew better than to wholeheartedly believe Dad would be convicted.It wasn’t that simple.Being guilty didn’t always land you behind bars.
Justice didn’t always work.
But even if Dad got put away forever, hell, even if he got the death penalty, this wouldn’t be over.Years from now, everyone in town would talk about it.Just like they’d talked about it when they’d thought Gene Price had been behind the murder.
