Page 98 of Key West Homecoming

Then there was the part she had been trying not to think about.

Arthur was the last person alive who had known her father as a boy.

Gloria was gone. Her mother was gone. Edmund had never met David Kendrick and knew him only through the stories Gloria had told. Arthur had grown up with him. He had shared the cottage with him and probably been somewhere nearby the afternoon David took a jackknife to the underside of the porch railing.

Emma hated that the person who had done so much damage was also the only person left who might remember things about her father that no one else could tell her.

She didn’t know what to do with that yet.

What she did know was that she wasn’t going to let Arthur talk his way out of what he’d done. For most of her life, Emma had been good at putting difficult feelings somewhere out of reach and moving on to the next thing that needed doing. It had worked until Gloria’s letter, and now anger seemed to be taking up all the space grief had finally opened.

Rachel called at noon.

“Emma, are you okay?”

“He’s called four times.”

“I know. I have all four. He was formally served yesterday afternoon, so this isn’t surprising. Don’t answer him. Don’t reply to email. If he shows up at Winslow’s or anywhere else you happen to be, you walk away and call me. Are you with me?”

“Yes.”

“If we have to, we can file a restraining order. I don’t want to do that if we can avoid it, but I will if need be.”

Emma hated the thought of that, but answered, “I understand.”

“There’s a development, and it’s a good one. His attorney filed a notice of appearance this morning. Ted Ballard, out of Marathon. I’ve been across from him twice. He’s competent, which means everything should go counsel to counsel from here.”

“Should?”

Rachel was quiet for half a second.

“Yes. Should.”

Emma looked at the four calls on her screen.

“He already has a lawyer and called me four times anyway.”

“I know.”

“You’re not making me feel any better.”

“I’m your lawyer, Emma. Feeling better is not the part I’m best at. You want someone who tells you the truth, no matter what.”

Emma smiled despite herself. Rachel was right, truth was what Emma needed after so many lies from Arthur.

“Besides, Maeve Corwin is probably better at that,” Rachel added. “And there’s a bar in Old Town full of women who would happily take the assignment.”

Emma laughed.

“Keep doing what you’re doing,” Rachel said. “Save every voicemail and keep a record of every attempt he makes to contact you.”

“I will.”

“I’ll see you Friday at nine. I should have the Miami probate file worked through by then.”

After they hung up, Emma thought about Gloria and the two sons she had loved. One had died far too young. The other had spent years disappointing her and had apparently taken advantage of her trust.

Emma couldn’t imagine what that had been like for her grandmother.