Page 13 of Knox

I thought of Claire and the wonderful company she’d built as a young widow. She was gone too soon, but she’d left a beautiful legacy.

And Knox. She’d left a son who wanted to finish what his mother had started. I did too.

“I need to check on the caterers,” I said, turning away before Mom could see the tears threatening.

“We’re not done discussing this.”

“Yes, we are.”

I found my father in his study several minutes later, my hair in a simple low twist.

He typed busily on his laptop despite the party starting in less than an hour. Richard Mercer, a man who never stopped working, strategizing, or building his empire.

“Hi, Dad.”

He looked up, distracted. “Sloane. You look nice.”

“Thanks. Are you planning to attend your anniversary party?”

“Of course.” He smiled. “Just finishing some emails.” He closed the laptop but didn’t move from his chair. “How’s your business expansion coming? Your mother mentioned you planned to collaborate with a local company.”

The grief crashed into me like a tidal wave.

“The owner recently passed away.”

“Oh.” He looked at me over the top of his reading glasses and frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks.”

Claire and I had spent hours over coffee at her place and lunches at Island Adventures, mapping out how our businesses could support each other. Ways to get more women onto the trails and into kayaks. Nothing had been finalized. It was all just a dream taking shape.

Now, it was just a dream.

“Maybe you can buy out the company.”

Of course that was the reason he was sorry. Not because she was gone, but because the deal had fallen through. I fought the urge to raise my palms in the air and scream.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked.

I met his eye, glad he could see my disappointment, even if he didn’t understand the reaction.

He sighed. “And you’re certain you want to stay here this week? Your mother thinks you should join us back in Charleston tomorrow.”

I took a steadying breath. “Everything I need to do on the mainland can be handled remotely.”

“Don’t look so frustrated. We worry about you, Sloane. Promise me you won’t hike alone again until the police find whoever is doing this.”

“I promise.” That was easy. The farthest I planned to go on foot without an escort was the backyard from now on.

I moved to the window, looking out at the manicured lawn and the view that had cost us acres of maritime forest and marshland.

“I want to help find out what happened to those missing hikers and make the trails safe again.” I turned back to face him. “How can I build a business getting women outdoors when they’re disappearing from the places I want to take them?”

Dad leaned back in his chair, removing his glasses and folding his hands on his desk. His expression shifted into something I couldn’t quite read. “You remind me of my father. Stubborn. Independent. He started with nothing and built everything through sheer determination.”

I took a step in his direction, surprised. Dad rarely spoke about his own father, who’d died when I was young. “You never talk about him.”

“Your mother thinks it’s gauche to discuss humble beginnings.” A ghost of a smile crossed his face. “But he would have been proud of you. You’ve got a strong will and a big heart. It won’t build you an empire, but it’s a good start.”