“No.” Eve spread her hands open.
“Only my dad has this number, and he rarely calls,” she said, crossing to pick it up and checked the caller ID. “Dad? You all right?”
“Hi, sweetheart,” her dad said, his voice sounding strange. Tense. “Were you coming over today?”
“No, why? Has something happened?”
“There’s a young man here. Says he’s expecting you.”
The room seemed to tilt. “What do you mean ‘here’? Who is it?”
“I meanhere. With me now. He says his name’s Darian.”
“Oh, Darian,” Cally said, turning to Eve as her knuckles whitened around the phone. “Silly me, I quite forgot. Yes, I’ll be over in an hour or so.”
“Great, then I’ll see you soon. Take your time.”
The line went dead, but Cally couldn’t move, staring at Eve’s horrified face.
Twenty-Two
Milton, Massachusetts, Present Day.
It had been four weeks since Cally last walked up the path to her dad’s house, which was ironic. Hadn’t she promised herself she’d visit every month?
And here she was, but not because she’d intended to be.
Autumn leaves lay scattered in reds and browns across the grass, and the air was cool and crisp. Two carved pumpkins rested on his porch, ready for the sticky children who’d visit tonight. A skeleton slouched in a deck chair, lonely on the lawn, a glass with a cocktail umbrella gripped in one bony hand. She barely spared it a look; it was the same one he’d used for the last twenty years.
She pulled back the screen door and took a breath before she knocked.
Her dad opened the door almost immediately. Dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt, he stepped out with a questioning expression, and gave her a perfunctory hug.
“What’s going on?” he murmured in her ear.
Darian stood behind him, nonchalantly leaning against the wall, wearing jeans, a bomber jacket, and an easy smile.
“What do you mean?” she replied, trying for lightness, her voice too tight to carry it off.
Her dad leaned away, gave her a look to say he didn’t buy it, then stepped back, giving her access to the house. And Darian.
“Hello,” she said. “How unexpected to see you here.”
“Is it?” Darian replied, pushing himself off the wall. “I thought you agreed to help me.”
“Of course,” she said, conscious of her dad listening to their stilted conversation. “But let’s go for a walk. I’m sure my dad doesn’t want to be bothered with work.”
“Darian is a colleague?” her father asked, disbelief in his tone.
“That’s right,” Darian said as he walked past. “Nice to meet you, David. Thanks for the coffee.”
“Sure,” her dad said coolly. He looked at Cally. “See you soon?”
Come and explain, in other words.“Of course, Dad.”
She turned and walked down the path, Darian following, and passed the Zipcar she’d parked on the curb, dwarfed by his black Chevy Suburban. Last time she’d stopped in Milton, it had been a Lamborghini, and that hadn’t ended well. As Darian stepped up alongside her, she wondered if this visit would end any better.
“Nice to see you again,” he said as they strolled along. The street was quiet; no one else out on a Saturday morning save for a dog walker or two, none close.
