She was up to something. She’d been on the phone last night when he walked past her room to go to bed, speaking low. Now that phone abruptly turned face-down.
Mary texted me a few minutes ago. She’ll meet us at the sheriff’s department in a half-hour. She wants to get it over with as soon as possible.”
“I’ll drop you off and then take Lilly to school while you two talk with Cooper. I’ll be back in time to take you to the bakery.”
“You don’t have to wait. I can walk.
“I know.” He drank his coffee. “I’m going to wait and drive you anyway.”
She gave him a look that started out as an argument and then decided not to be one. He knew she still struggled with the idea of letting him be useful and helpful to her. He figured she’d been so determined to be independent after Liam died that she’d gone too far the other direction and forgotten how to let anyone lend her a hand.
But he was patient. Bit by bit, she was getting used to letting him do things for her. Like his mother always said, there was no profit in fighting a man who was determined to carry your bags.
Lily came down the hall at six-forty in her pink footie pajamas with a seal under each arm and her hair defying gravity as it stuck up every which way..
“Mornin’, Princess Lily,” he said cheerfully.
“Are you coming to the big-girl dinner?” Lily demanded.
“The what now?”
“Mommy says we’re having dinner with a big girl named Madison and I get to meet her.” Lily climbed onto her chair with the gravity of a small judge taking the bench. “Makayla’s my only big-girl friend. She’s eleven. How old is Madison?”
“Fourteen. And Madison’s my niece.”
Lily’s eyes went round. “She’s really old.”
Reno mentally winced. He would hate to hear what she thought if he told her his age. “Madison likes horses,” he offered.
“I like horses,” Lily said eagerly. “Does she like seals?”
“I’ll be honest, I don’t know. But I’ll bet she does.”
Satisfied, Lily accepted the fried eggs he set in front of her, each of which he’d cut into the shape of a heart because he’d apparently signed a lifetime contract about that without reading it.
Grace watched the two of them over the rim of her mug, and there was something soft and unguarded in her face that she didn’t cover up when she caught him noticing.
He cleaned up the kitchen while she got Lily ready for school, and they headed out together.
The sheriff’s department still smelled like old carpet and burnt coffee and the chemical sweetness of whatever they cleaned the bathrooms with. Mary stopped just inside the door and looked at Grace like a scared kid on the first day of school.
“I’m right here,” Grace told her. “The whole time. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Mary nodded. Grace put a hand on her arm, and the two of them went through the door Velma buzzed.
They still hadn’t come out when Reno got back from dropping off Lily at school. He sat down in one of the plastic lobby chairs and stretched his bad leg out in front of him.
“Six letters,” Velma said, not looking up. “Blank-E-blank-blank-E.-blank. ‘To make right.’”
“Redeem,” Reno said.
Velma penciled it in. “You’re handy to have around.”
“So I’m told.”
When the door opened, Mary came out first, and she’d been crying, but it was the kind of crying that came after a weight came off and not the kind that came when a weight landed on someone. Grace had an arm around her. Cooper came out behind them with an expression Reno recognized: the careful neutrality of a man who’d just been handed something useful and didn’t want his face to show it.
“Mary,” Cooper said, “you did a hard, right thing. I meant what I said in there. We’ll handle your sister as gently as the situation allows.”
