Stephen switched his attention to Tean.He had a solid handshake, but he definitely didn’t do a lot of manual labor.For a moment, he studied Tean, and then he broke into a tired smile.“Gosh, that’s a relief.We’re kind of at a loss here.Do you know what we’re supposed to do?Brigitte said that Gerald passed away last night—”
One of the other men—a round-faced, soft-bodied guy with dark hair—let out a sound that was almost a sob.
Stephen’s expression tightened.“Is there something we’re supposed to do?That sounds so stupid.I don’t even know what to ask.”
“There’s nothing anyone needs to do right now,” Jem said.“Could you tell me your relationship to Mr.Fitzpatrick?”
“I’m his—I was his PA.His personal assistant.”
“Right.And the rest of you?”
“They’re part of a spiritual coaching group that Gerald leads.Led.”Stephen rubbed his mouth.
“Why are you here?”Tean asked.
“That’s none of your business,” said Mop Top.He had his arms folded across his chest, and he was pacing along one of the walls.
“We’re having a spiritual retreat,” Stephen said.“For the weekend.Although that’s assuming the snow ever lets up.”
“I meant,” Tean said, “what are you doing here right now?”
“We have a morning devotional.”That was one of the women—high-volume blond hair, artificial tan, and eyelashes that made him think of a horse.She was sitting next to the round-faced man who had sounded like he was about to cry.“It’s how we start each day of the retreat.”
“Are you LDS?”Stephen asked.The question was smooth and polite and, just below the surface, weighted.
“No,” Tean said.“But I know what a morning devotional is.”
“Right.Well, we were supposed to start at nine—”
“Even with the snow?”Jem asked.
For a moment, a flicker of what might have been annoyance showed under Stephen’s smile—and that was when Tean realized he recognized that smile.It wasn’tjustperfect.It was the smile Jem wore when he thought he had you right where he wanted you.
“Last night, Gerald said we’d continue with the retreat regardless of the weather,” Stephen said.“At the time, none of us expected the power to go out, and you have to understand that normally, the walks are heated.”
“That’s what everybody keeps telling me,” Jem muttered.
“What happened to President Fitzpatrick?”This man hadn’t spoken yet.He was a dishwater blond, and he wore a flannel shirt and jeans.His eyes and nose were red, and he sat with his shoulders stooped, his hands twisting around each other.
“Sister Fitzpatrick said he fell.”This was the other woman, and she sat with her knee pressed against the man’s.Strawberry blond with perfect Utah curls, she was pretty and petite and reminded Tean of little dogs who liked to bite.One hand was curled around her phone, tucked neatly against her thigh.“It was an accident.”
“We should sue,” Mop Top said as he continued his pacing.“We should all sue.For emotional damages.”
In a low voice, Stephen said, “As you can tell, emotions are running high.We all relied on Gerald.Losing him is a tremendous blow.”
“Uh huh,” Jem said.
“I don’t think you said,” Stephen said, and that little flicker ofsomethingunder the surface was back again—silvery and fast, like minnows in a still pool.“Why are you here?”
“We’re following up with Mrs.Fitzpatrick,” Jem said.“We spoke with her earlier.Is she available?”
“I’m sorry,” Stephen said, “she’s resting—”
“No, she’s not!”That little voice was Milo’s, and it came from the loft, where two blond heads were barely visible peering down at them.
“She’s watching TV,” Maeve announced.
Nervous laughter worked its way through the gathering.The round-faced guy tried for an I-love-kids voice that came out a little closer to what-are-you-brats-doing when he pitched his voice toward the loft and said, “Hey, how long have you guys been hiding up there?”
