Linc grunted. “Apparently, so did Beau. I’ll talk to him.”
“Thanks, Mr. Cain.”
He smiled faintly. “Don’t you think it’s time you started calling me Linc?”
Marty smiled, his black eyes tilting up at the corners. “Okay, Linc. Thanks.” He was a good kid, a great employee, and he was completely loyal to Beau.
“Don’t worry. Between us, we’ll get him straightenedout.” Linc turned and started walking, heading for his Mercedes in the underground garage.
It didn’t take long to reach Beau’s house. The guards were all gone, his friend’s life no longer in danger. Things were back to normal. Except for Cassidy Jones.
As he reached the top of the drive, jammed the car into park and turned off the engine, the house looked empty. Linc had a feeling it wasn’t. He walked to the door and knocked, but nobody answered. They had keys to each other’s places. He used his and walked inside, calling out so he wouldn’t be mistaken for another assassin and shot dead in the living room.
“Beau, I know you’re in here. Where are you?”
Beau called back to him. “I’ll come into the office tomorrow, okay? I’m not up to talking right now.”
Linc ignored him, strode toward the sound of his voice and walked into the study. The curtains were closed, the room completely dark. Beau sprawled on the sofa in front of the fireplace, but no blaze burned in the hearth.
Linc walked over and opened the windows, letting in a shaft of bright light. Beau groaned as the sun hit him in the face, which was dark with beard stubble, his black hair greasy and uncombed.
“You look like hell,” Linc said.
“Thanks.”
“So I guess you and Cassidy split up.”
Beau raked back his hair, which definitely needed a cut. “She ended things.” He shrugged. “It would have happened sooner or later.”
“Why is that?”
Beau sighed. “She said she deserved someone who wasn’t in love with someone else.”
Linc walked over to where Beau sat. “That someone else being a ghost, right?”
“I guess.”
Linc sat down at the opposite end of the sofa. “You know what you’re doing in this dark house?”
“Apparently you’re going to tell me.”
“You’re right, I am. You’re grieving, Beau. Only this time you aren’t grieving for Sarah. You’re grieving for Cassidy.”
“Cassidy is nothing like Sarah.”
“That’s right. Sarah was just a kid. When you loved her, you were a kid, too, a boy in his twenties. Maybe if the two of you had married, you would have changed together over the years, but that didn’t happen. You’re a different man now. A strong man, Beau. It takes a strong woman to handle you, a woman like Cassidy Jones.”
Beau sat up on the sofa. “What if she dies, just like Sarah? I couldn’t go through that again, Linc.”
“What if she doesn’t die? What if the two of you have a great life together? That’s the chance we all take, Beau.”
For several seconds he said nothing. Then a breath whispered out. “Even if you’re right, it’s too late. Cassidy’s gone and there’s nothing I can do.”
“That’s not necessarily true. Listen to me, Beau. When Sarah died, it was out of your control. There was nothing you could do to change the outcome. This is different. If you love Cassidy, you can fix this. You can make it right.”
Beau lifted his head but didn’t say anything for the longest time. “How? How could I fix it?”
“Hell, I don’t know. You’re the salesman. If you want her, you figure out how to convince her. You can have Cassidy and the kind of life you once wanted—the life you deserve.”
