I did know that. Grace liked men but never stayed with one for long. Jay wasn’t alone in having a “thing” with her that hadn’t ended well. Myroofer was another, and still she had called him when she needed him. At this moment, she needed Jay Harrington.
“And anyway,” Grace argued with a feeble glance behind, “I can’t leave now. I’m working.”
She wasn’t thinking straight, I knew. But I also knew something else. She loved her son more than life itself. “Chris is waiting,” I said. “I’ll stay here and reschedule—”
“No—come with me, Maggie—please?I can’t go alone!”
My stomach twisted. Being involved with anything law-related was risky for me. I had spent my time in Devon avoiding the spotlight. I didn’t want to be anywhere near it—which was surely a selfish thought. This wasn’t about me, I told myself.
Taking a steadying breath, I corralled my scattered composure and one-handedly pulled up the Spa appointment screen. “Okay,” I said. “Joyce can reschedule your appointments. Layla was doing a stone massage at three. She’ll be done soon, so she can cover for you at four and five, and I’m done for the day.” I turned to Nina, who was putting on her coat. “Okay?”
She nodded. “You have my AmEx on file.” As she moved to the door, she told Grace, “The Planning Board may have already heard rumblings of this. If I want to give them something more than gossip, I need to go to the police station first. See you there?”
***
The police station was the last place I wanted to be. Jay Harrington’s office came in a close second. But if I didn’t take Grace there, who would? Like me, she had no family nearby.
Actually, I didn’t know whether she had any family at all. Family was one of the things we didn’t discuss.
But, orphaned or not, she was my friend. I couldn’t let her go alone.
Nor could I let her drive. She was shaky and distracted, and distracted wasn’t safe.
So I drove. The safety issue would keep me focused, even though Iwas probably as shaky as she was. I hated lawyers’ offices. They dredged up memories I worked hard to forget. When Jay had helped me with my closing, we always met at the realtor’s place.
Once at Jay’s place, though, I couldn’t just drop Grace off cold. She had spent the drive down from the Spa making the same bewildered arguments, and though I repeatedly agreed, repeatedly cautioned her against imagining the worst, she was stuck in that rut. Until Jay took over, someone had to direct her. So I pulled into a diagonal slot, parked, and, gripping her arm, led her inside.
The setup here was nothing like the office in Boston where I had spent so many dark hours. That one had been a sea of gleaming chrome, sleek furniture, and shelves of leather-bound books that were never opened, thanks to whatever technology stood nearby. Add law partners, associates, paralegals, and clients, and the firm was a hive of activity. Granted, Jay Harrington’s office had no crowd, no chrome, no glitz, and he practiced alone. But a lawyer’s office was a lawyer’s office. No amount of expensive décor or technological innovation could entirely obliterate the Old-World smell that seemed to come with a law degree.
Jay’s suite consisted of a small, sparsely furnished waiting room, no receptionist, and three doors. Two were open when we arrived. The third opened seconds later, and if I hadn’t been determined not to freak out, I’d have lost it then. The man emerging with Jay was my ex-husband.
For several beats, I couldn’t breathe. I told myself I was wrong. Edward Cooper had no reason to be in town. We were divorced. We held no joint property. He had nothing at all to do with my legal status.
Besides, this guy wore jeans and muddy boots, not imported sweaters and slacks. His hair was longer than Edward’s, and he had a close-cropped beard. Tall? Lots of men were tall. Lots of men held their shoulders straight. Lots of men had cheekbones so strong that facial hair showcased rather than softened.
In my life, though, I had only known two people with eyes quite that pale, silvery blue. His widened on mine just long enough for me to realizethat he hadn’t expected to see me either. Then he passed by with a nod and left.
A nod. That was it. Not that I had spoken either. I could barely breathe, much less speak, and in front of two other people, neither of whom knew where I had come from and who I had been.
If Jay wondered at my look of shock, all he said was, “New owner of the Inn.”
New owner?I swallowed and nodded, like that explained it perfectly.New owner? Not. Possible.
Sonot possible, in fact, that I blotted it out. Narrowing my thoughts to Grace’s crisis, I let the icy hold she had on my hand channel my words.
“We need your help,” I told Jay.
“So I heard.”
Grace blurted, “How did you hear, if this just happened? No one bothered to call me until five minutes ago, and I didn’t call anyone else.” Her high voice went higher. “This ismyson they’re saying did awful things—things which, by the way, he couldn’t have done—but anyway, he’s under age, so how did his name get out and where are the laws to protect him? Whoever called you is violating my son’s rights, violatingmyrights. I’m always hearing crap about privacy. Who’s protectingours?”
“Grace,” Jay said.
“I mean it.” Her eyes were blazing as I had never seen them blaze before. I might have reminded her that this was Devon, where people did respect privacy, and that whoever had talked with Jay might have done it to help her—had she not been the mama bear just then. I didn’t cross mama bears in the best of times, and this, right now, for me, despite my very, very best efforts to stay calm, was not.
Edward?Here?
“My son did nothing,” Grace told Jay. “He’s a good boy who’s done adamngood job growing up without a father. These charges are bogus. The cops are going after him becausetheylook like morons with no leads, so they’re grabbing the first smart kid around. Chris wouldn’t hack into anything. Hecouldn’thack into anything.”
