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“I couldn’t—”
Mom gestures for Darla to stop. “It’s the least we can do. You work so hard around here, and I know you’re just as worried as the family. You are family, Darla. Let us take care of you.”
“What about Mr. Pike?”
“I already have dinner in the Crock-Pot at home,” Mom says. “Frank will be fine. Besides, we’ll be done here by dinnertime. Right, girls?”
“Right,” Rory says. “Just point us in the direction of the cleaning supplies and vacuum.”
“I don’t know how to repay you for this.” Darla sighs and melts into a living room chair. “I wasn’t sure how I was going to get anything done today. Sunday is normally my day off, but with everything going on…” She shakes her head. “Thank you all. Thank you so much.”
Rory hands off the vacuum cleaner to me. For some reason, my weird sister actually enjoys scrubbing toilets. I’m glad to take care of the hardwood and rugs. First, though, I head into the kitchen with Mom. I’m wondering…
“Mom?”
“Yeah?”
“Maybe… Maybe I could cook dinner for Donny.”
She smiles. “Oh? Miss I Hate Cooking?”
“I do a few things well.”
“You do, but I’m not sure the Steels have Trader Joe’s Moo Goo Gai Pan in the freezer.”
“Cheap shot, Mom.” Though she’s right on target. “Did you not notice the shelf of cookbooks behind you?”
“I suppose you think all there is to cooking is reading a recipe.”
“Isn’t there?”
She laughs softly. “Go for it, Caroline. Choose your recipe. But first you’d better check the freezer and pantry and see what’s available. The kitchen is yours, my queen. Good luck.”
I sigh. Donny deserves a well-cooked meal when he comes home after such a trying day. I could try. I might even be successful. But I’m just as likely to produce something inedible.
“You win, Mom. You cook. I’ll vacuum.”
She smiles.
“Just make something good for Donny, okay?”
“Do you know what he likes?” she asks.
Not really. I’ve eaten one meal with him. He had calamari and a steak.
I smile and meet Mom’s gaze.
“Beef,” we say in unison.
I leave Mom to her domain and lug the vacuum down the hallway to the master bedroom. Jade will probably stay in Grand Junction tonight, but I’ll vacuum anyway, on the off chance she comes home with Donny.
After the master and two guest rooms, I come to a room filled with unpacked suitcases.
This must be where Donny’s staying until Dale and Ashley move out of the guesthouse.
I inhale.
I can smell him—that intoxicating mixture of woods, cloves, and law books. Okay, so I don’t actually know what law books smell like, but I imagine that the leather musk on the fringe of Donny’s scent comes from those voluminous tomes. Everything’s mostly online now, but I love the look of a bookshelf lined with casebooks. The kind you see on those old TV legal dramas.
I always imagined my office would look like that someday.
My office.
Wow. I have a new job to begin tomorrow.
And already I know the investigation that will be the top priority.
Who shot Talon Steel?
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Donny
Brown swill. That’s what this hospital coffee tastes like. Fucking brown swill. But it’s hot and burns my throat, which is oddly comforting at the moment.
“Did Dad ever take you to that dive bar on the other side of the city?” Dale asks.
“Oh, yeah.” I take another sip of the brown swill. This must be what dirt tastes like. Actually, it’s not. I tried dirt once when I was five because Dale told me it was crushed-up Oreos.
Fucking big brothers.
“Did he tell you why?”
I nod. “It was my twenty-first birthday. Something about his guardian angel named Mark.”
“It was Mike.”
“Right. Mike.”
“I went back there recently. I’m not sure what I was looking for. My own guardian angel, maybe. I didn’t find one.”
“Sure you did.”
He lifts his eyebrows.
“Ashley. Her name is Ashley. She’s your guardian angel.”
Dale huffs softly and shakes his head. “I won’t put that kind of pressure on my wife.”
“What is a guardian angel, anyway?” I ask. “Just someone who watches over you. Sees that you’re happy. Sounds like Ashley to me.”
“I don’t believe in guardian angels,” he says bluntly.
I scoff. “Neither do I.”
“Then what was that nonsense about?”
“Oh, that nonsense was real,” I say. “You found someone to make your heart complete. Maybe not a guardian angel. Maybe not even a soul mate. But a heart mate for sure.”
“Can we get back on topic, please?” Dale says with a hint of irritation.
Okay, more than a hint of irritation.
“Sure. What was it?”
“Dad’s dive bar.”
“Right. What about it?”
“I went back there recently. I was a mess, totally searching for answers about our birth father, why he could possibly do what he did to us. Answers about Ashley. The fire. Everything. I felt like my world was ending.”
“But it wasn’t.”
“No. But now, with Dad getting shot…”
I nod. “I get it.”
“Anyway,” he continues, “I got the feeling from Dad, all those years ago, that he found something there. I was desperately trying to find the same thing.”
