insurance, so it was Lewis who’d supported the boys at school, taken them to professional sporting events and had been on hand for nearly every milestone in their lives. Lewis had loved to push envelopes and pull strings for them. Some of that push-pull still went on. While Ethan was more than confident in his role as sheriff, it was Lewis who’d helped swing his election last year.
A uniformed maid pulled open the heavy front door before Ethan could get his hand around the brass handle. It was the eldest Parker daughter, Carol, who’d dropped out of UW–Madison in midterm to rethink her future. Ethan had dated her on occasion and had found her a bit boring. Just the same, he hoped they would always be friends. She was just the friend he needed tonight. Carol had been working for the Cutlers for four months and knew enough about household politics to clue him in.
“Faster than a speeding bullet tonight, aren’t ya?” she greeted coyly.
Brushing by her, Ethan hurried into the dim cavernous foyer, glancing up the wide staircase. “Where is he, Carol? Up with the doc?”
“Nope. Right in there.” She calmly tipped her curly orange head left, toward the study.
“Did he collapse? What happened?”
Carol reached to stroke some short brown strands of hair from his forehead in a gesture he thought far too intimate. “I’m not sure.”
He gave her shoulders a mild shake, hoping to rattle her composure. “Did anybody call an ambulance?”
Slowly and with a mysterious smile that seemed to suggest she was enjoying his touch, she replied, “Nobody else was called. You’re all he wants.”
Confused, Ethan strode off through the walnut door into the spacious den he knew was Lewis Cutler’s comfort room. It was where he came to plot, relax, dream. And brood. Ethan suspected the latter was true tonight as he found Lewis seated in his favorite leather recliner, accepting a snifter of brandy from his wife, Bailey. Judging by the filmy glass and Cutler’s equally filmy eyes, it was likely a refill.
“Finally, Ethan!”
Ethan was a bit startled to discover a fully functioning Lewis. Carol’s lack of urgency was suddenly more understandable.
“What exactly is the matter here, Lew?”
Lewis leaned forward in his chair. “Have you heard?”
“Heard what?”
“The news. The horrible news.”
Ethan appealed to Bailey. In her blue satin lounging pajamas, a paperback and eyeglasses clutched in one hand, she appeared to have been abruptly summoned, too. Now, unseen by Lewis, whose blood pressure could stand nothing but her utter faith and devotion, she stared off into space with strained patience.
“Leave us, Bailey,” Lewis directed, a bit more gently. “You needn’t be concerned with this.”
Bailey hated the dismissal. She frowned and opened her mouth, but then as was expected, closed it again. Holding herself like a model, she exited obediently and Ethan was struck, not for the first time, how beautiful the fiftyish platinum blonde was. Their son Brad had favored her and had been truly grateful for it.
“So what is this news, Lew?” Ethan demanded.
Lewis wheezed—courtesy of his cigar smoking—then swigged down another slug of brandy. “Kelsey Graham. Returning for your class reunion.”
“Really.” Ethan’s heart jumped wildly in his chest. He worked to keep his voice even. “Still, might be just a rumor.”
“I made a few calls. Trust me, it’s true.”
Ethan didn’t think to doubt the sharp newspaper mogul’s sources.
Lewis glared into the flames flickering in the old marble fireplace. It wasn’t a particularly cold June evening, but there was a slight chill in the air since a thundershower that afternoon. Lewis felt the cold more easily these days, deep in his bones where brandy couldn’t seep. He was a baker’s dozen years older than his wife and the gap seemed more pronounced than ever. Ethan knew Lewis regretted not diving into marriage sooner, like he had everything else, and having a bundle of kids. His late start had produced only one son. And Brad’s life had been so tragically short.
“How dare she come back?” Lewis thundered. “The girl who killed our Brad.” He rested drunken eyes on Ethan, eyes which looked moist.
Raw emotion swelled inside Ethan threatening to leave him splintered and miserable. He tamped it down with remarkable control. “Whatever happened out there on Route 6 that night, Lew—” he struggled for his voice “—was an accident.”
“She killed my precious boy.” Big tears of despair began to spill.
Ethan had the sudden urge to bolt, to escape a replay of the decade-old mess. But he was dealt in permanently at the Cutler’s table, as intimately as he had been back in his frog-catching days. With his own parents relocated to Arizona, Ethan most often turned to Lewis for financial advice, fishing company, or just to rehash a ball game.
Staying numb was his only chance. He abruptly strode across to the room’s wet bar and poured himself a short whiskey. The brandy Lewis was guzzling cost three hundred bucks a bottle and, in Ethan’s opinion, was stuff to be saved strictly for the good times.
Ethan wandered round the big room sipping his drink, taking in the sameness, the security he’d always felt here. A stuffed moose head, trophies for shooting, a mantel full of photos of Ethan and Brad growing up. Lewis loved showing off his wide range of skills, as hunter, mogul and mentor. When the boys were in high school, the room had featured pictures of Kelsey as well. For two and a half years she’d been a valued part of this family, just like Ethan.
Kelsey Graham, the love of Bradley Cutler’s young life. Who’d apparently smashed up his sporty black VW Jetta on prom night, killing not only Brad, but friends Todd Marshall and Lissa Hanson.
“I had an agreement with the mother,” Lewis muttered. “Ship Kelsey off to Bryn Mawr and I would put a stop to any town boycott of her café.”
Ethan arched a brow. “Was there a boycott in the works?”
“The way everyone loved those three dead kids? Who’d support a restaurant harboring her?”
“But sending her to Philadelphia seemed so extreme, when she was already enrolled at the University of Wisconsin like the rest of us.”
“Had she gone to school in Madison with you, she could’ve commuted back here on weekends. Like nothing ever happened. Intolerable.”
This was the first Ethan had heard of any embargo on the café. But the town had been hysterical back then. The only thing folks seemed to agree on was the basic account of the accident: Kelsey had lost control on a dark slick curve out in the countryside and had hit a tree, ejecting all four kids on impact. Brad and Lissa had died at the scene. Kelsey and Todd had been raced to Maple County Hospital for treatment, where Todd had died without regaining consciousness.
Ethan shook off a shiver as he recalled how he’d gone to the prom in the Jetta. But his date had gotten ill halfway through the evening and he’d taken her home by taxi. He’d returned to the party to discover Brad and Kelsey had left
