He turned her in his arms and kissed her deeply, despite being in the large group headed back to the house.
When whistles and catcalls flew around them like so many birds, he held uphisbird. But the middle finger didn’t discourage a single one of them. The noise was raucous as they all made their way up the steps and into the house.
Julian was a happy man.
The first thinghe did when they entered the living room and Petula was whisked away by his sisters-in-law and Sheila, was to seek out his mother in the kitchen and tell her the good news.
“Julian,” she huffed, after he’d explained. “That’s not a proper proposal.”
But he could tell she was pleased.
“I’ll do it up right in a few weeks,” he promised, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “After everything to do with the investigation into Bradly is over,” he added a little sourly.
“What about that despicable woman? That boss of Petula’s?” his mother clipped. She’d clearly been busy with funeral planning, and hadn’t been privy to any details.
“They’ve got her in jail, and after interviewing her, she showed no remorse, so she’s been denied bail,” Julian said with satisfaction.
As it turned out, Irma had confessed that she’d been more than willing to do the job of killing Petula herself, but Bradly had convinced her he needed the pleasure of that act, and thank god for his ego. If Irma had attempted to end Petula’s life, they might not have been aware enough to stop it.
Still, Julian was happy that at leastsomeonewould end up paying for the death of Jefferson, even if Irma were charged only as an accessory.
“Good. I hope they send her away for many years,” Ellen sniffed with conviction. “Now, go join the party, Jules. I have to put a few finishing touches on these enchiladas,” she told him, bending back to her task with a huge bag of cheese in her hand.
According to his mother, enchiladas could never have too much cheese.
“Okay, Mom,” Julian agreed easily, anxious to get back to Petula.
He left Ellen Sothard to her task.
“Hey, squirt.”
Julian’s brother Vincent had shown up yesterday He was taking a few weeks of his accumulated leave to decide whether he wanted to reup with the Navy, or if he wanted to join the new, company business.
The jury was out, but he seemed to be leaning into separating from the service.
He’d waylaid Julian just outside the kitchen door.
“Not a squirt any more, asshole,” Julian quipped, punching his arm. “I’d make mincemeat out of you these days in a fight…old man.”
Vincent was four years older than Julian, and absolutely didn’t like being reminded that he’d just turned forty.
“You could try,” Vincent chortled with a grimace, attempting to convince Julian he was ignoring the dig. “But hey.” He slapped Julian on the back. “I’m proud of you for saving the day and getting the girl.” He winked.
“You and me, both,” Julian chuckled, setting aside their sibling rivalry. “I had competent back-up, though, with Statler.”
“A good guy from what I can tell,” Vince allowed. “But I never did get the whole story of what went down. You want to fill me in? I know you were following Petula and got whacked with a tree, but how did you realize she was in trouble and that you had to go after her?”
Julian relived those few, horrifying minutes as he gave Vince the details.
“Once I was able to fight my way out of the car, it was easy to see the tree that hit me had been purposely cut,” he grimaced. “There was no doubt in my mind it had been done by Petula’sstalker, so I quickly followed his tracks from the crushed area he’d made around the trunk, and eventually came across…”
Julian would never forget his confusion as he’d popped out of the woods and seen Petula standing behind a man who was clearly Jefferson—from the picture Tex had sent him—while an unknown individual raised a gun and fired.
His heart had leapt into his throat when Jefferson went down, and he’d wanted to act. But at that point, he didn’t know who was the bad guy and who was the good guy. Julian had been hesitant to fire.
Even when Petula bent over Jefferson, crying, Julian didn’t know if her reaction was grief, or a release of tension.
He gave Vincent the rest of the story. “After Jefferson was shot, I finally snuck close enough to tune in to the conversation Petula was having with the shooter. That’s when I realized that the guy was her childhood abuser, Bradly, and then I acted quickly. Thank god Statler and I were both able to get off shots before Bradly pulled the trigger a second time.”
