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She stared at the woman in whom she could now see traces of Liam—the curve of his brows and the shape of his ears. “Yes, I do… But please, Bets. Don’t bring that up right now.”
The older woman nodded, her orange hair a mess from combing her fingers through it in frustration. “I want to go with you. I can’t just sit around doing nothing while my son sits in jail.”
Linc was suddenly beside them, moving swiftly for a large man. “You won’t be sitting. Ghislaine, we’ll talk to the lawyers, and once you’re clear on the legal guidelines, call the reporters you know you can trust and put Bets on every major show you can.”
“Linc, what if it doesn’t do any good?” Bets asked, tugging at his white shirt.
He wrapped her up. “We have to believe it will, sugar. The rest of us will keep working this from different angles, doing what we can.”
“Which is what, exactly?” Brady asked suddenly in a loud voice. “I can’t even think about opening the pub and pouring the village drinks right now.”
A few shocked gasps told Taylor this had to be the worst kind of admission in Ireland.
Eoghan finally stood up from one of the many chairs in the room. “You’ll open the Brazen Donkey and pour this community drinks because people are in mourning right now, and the pub is a place of comfort and community.”
“I’ll pour them with you, since I can’t punch the people who are behind this,” Declan announced, holding up his fists.
Taylor wanted to yell,hear, hear.
“I’ll pour too,” Kathleen announced, “because Eoghan is right. My family pub in Boston always opened after a funeral so people could come and grieve or lend an understanding shoulder.”
“We’ll all pour,” Ellie said as tears rolled down her face. Looking up at Brady, she added, “And if any of us need a break for comfort, we’ll give that too. Liam would want that.”
Taylor had to look away as tears sprang into people’s eyes at the mention of Liam’s name. She was going to lose it if she stayed any longer. “I have to call Arthur.”
Declan’s boxing allusion crystalized her plan. They needed a one-two punch. If she was able to get away for a few days, she could do two things: hasten Arthur’s investigation and paint a mural somewhere down that way to prove Veritas was definitely not in jail right now. Her voice as an artist was undeniable.
“Taylor, wait up,” Kathleen called as she was leaving the room.
She waited until she was a distance from the doorway of Bets’ parlor before turning. Kathleen scratched the back of her short black cut before wincing.
“I know we don’t know each other well yet, although God knows I sense a fellow tough girl in you, but everyone at Summercrest wants to invite you to come and stay with us. In Liam’s room.”
Suddenly she could smell him, and the control she was trying to hold on to so hard snapped for a moment before she fastened it back in place with her inner staple gun. There was no way she could sleep in his bed without him and be among his possessions when he wasn’t there. It would crush her. She focused better when she was alone, and with Liam in jail, the stakes had never been higher. Trying to connect with people and take comfort from them would only split her time and energy right now. Worse, she didn’t want to have to evade talk of Veritas or lie to her friends, because Ellie was a huge fan and Veritas was very much the “man” of honor in current conversations.
She made sure to soften her answer with a smile. “I appreciate it, really, but I’ll probably be going down to Kinsale—”
“Only tonight then.” She weakly gestured in the air. “I know I’m feeling awkward when I don’t know where to put my hands. I work with my hands…”
“It’s okay. We’re all in horrible new territory.”
“To say the least,” Sophie said, appearing in the large entry hall. “I was going to offer to have you stay with Jamie and me and Greta too, but I know the cottage is a bit small.”
“Bets and Linc already asked me to stay with them too,” she told both women. “Really, I just…I need to be alone. To focus. Keep my mind clear.”
“We have a meditation room at Summercrest,” Kathleen told her with a small smile. “Liam turned the old dungeon into one.”
The fact that Taylor didn’t know that story had her heart rending in her chest. They hadn’t had enough time together. She wanted that time with him, dammit. She wanted all those stories. “That sounds like Liam.”
Sophie came over and touched her back, compassion shining brightly in her eyes. “I remember being so upset when Jamie and I were going through a tough time only a short while ago, and I understand the need for space. But if there’s anything we can do to make a moment a little easier, we’re here.”
“I appreciate it.” She blew out a loud breath and hugged her friend. “Keeping moving is my way of holding it together. Because if I don’t, then Malcolm has won, and I won’t let that son of a bitch win. I can’t.”
The other women both nodded.
“I’m going to talk to Arthur,” she said with as much of a smile as she could muster and then walked to Bets’ kitchen for some privacy.
“I’m sorry that I’m calling again,” she began when he answered.
