Page 43 of Midnight Creed

“She’s getting full custody after Christmas.”

Norwich’s brow furrowed before she could stop it. She put her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand like the gesture might prompt her to remember something.

Jason had his head down and didn’t notice. But Creed noticed. “What is it?” he asked.

“Probably nothing,” she said.

Now she had Jason’s full attention, too. “You heard something?”

“Just made me think of what I heard going around the courthouse.”

Both men stared at her. She frowned and shook her head.

“It’s probably nothing.”

Except it was the second time she’d said it. Creed and Jason waited.

“Ramsey Construction,” she finally said. “They were just rewarded a multi-million dollar contract to do the courthouse’s remodeling.” Then, as if to soften the coincidence, she added, “Heaven knows that place needs it.”

Creed remembered Hannah complaining that Dora Ramsey sounded as if she expected her husband’s construction company to get the contract for an addition to the Segway House. The Ramseys had given a generous donation. Maybe they were used to dealing in quid pro quo.

“Her mother-in-law has been coming down pretty hard on Taylor,” Jason told them. “She’s critical of every little thing. Like she’s keeping score.”

“She might be,” Norwich said.

“For the lawyers,” Jason added, nodding like it was something he’d already considered.

“Custody battles are tough.” Norwich folded her hands together on the edge of the table. “Years ago, I gave up custody of my boy.”

Creed stopped mid-bite. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even know Norwich had a son.

She waved a hand, as if expecting their surprise and dismissing it. “That was a long time ago. Decades. I was just starting out. This profession isn’t easy on women, let alone women trying to have families.”

“What happened?” Jason asked.

Norwich shrugged. “He chose his father. Blamed me for everything that happened. Even a few things that didn’t happen. Kids are so easily manipulated into believing the strangest things. Their minds, their realities, are so malleable.” She shook her head. “After his father died, he didn’t want anything to do with me.”

“How long has it been since you’ve talked to him?”

“A long time. Too long. But I still reach out. Every year I invite him to come spend the holidays. I don’t even know if he gets my invitations. But I still send them. Just in case.”

“Can I get you folks dessert?” Their waitress interrupted. She stood at the vacated table next to them, stacking dishes.

Creed didn’t need to look at Jason. Dessert at the Oval Office meant pie. Made locally. Didn’t matter what flavor. It was a resounding “yes” all around. With coffee. Normally, Creed would have begged off, saying he needed to get back. But he enjoyed Norwich’s company. And how could he deny Jason pie?

When the waitress left, Creed waited for Norwich to continue, but she seemed relieved at the interruption. To lighten the mood, he said, “I should be watching what I eat. I need to fit into a rented tuxedo tonight.”

“I’m sure you won’t have any worries,” Norwich smiled at him. “After all you’ve been through, you look great. Actually, you look like you could stand to gain a few pounds. Is this for the Segway House fundraiser?”

“Yes. And it is for a good cause.”

“And because Hannah’s making him,” Jason laughed.

30

Pensacola Beach

Taylor chopped onion and garlic. Will sat at the counter that separated her small kitchen from the rest of her apartment. His markers scattered around the sketch pad. She added the vegetables to a skillet with melted butter. The sizzle and the scratches of the markers filled the comfortable quiet between them.