how many should we invite?” Reenie asked.
“Gabe?” Lucky asked, immediately deferring to him.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. A hundred?”
Lucky cleared her throat. “A hundred is still quite a lot,” she said, obviously trying hard to be tactful. “What about thirty or forty? We want it to be comfortable, not too crowded. I think it’ll be more meaningful to Dad that way.”
Reenie knew Lucky had been so focused on trying to state her preferences politely, she probably hadn’t even noticed a muscle flexing in Gabe’s cheek when she referred to Garth as Dad.
God, this was miserable. Reenie understood that Gabe was trying, or he wouldn’t have come today. She also understood that he was still struggling with the changes that had been forced on him in recent years. But what had happened between their father and the most notorious prostitute in town wasn’t Lucky’s fault. “I think thirty or forty is the way to go,” she said.
This time Lucky ignored her. “Gabe?”
Reenie watched her brother’s deep blue eyes, eyes that were almost a mirror image of her own, meet and clash with Lucky’s. She curled her fingernails into her palms. “Never mind my…er…our surly brother,” she said quickly. Gabe’s eyebrows shot up at the “brother” part, but Reenie continued anyway. “It’s already two out of three, right?” She plastered another smile on her face.
“I’d like him to have some input,” Lucky said, her voice steady. Instead of glancing away, like before, she glared at him.
Gabe clenched his jaw again, and the gap in the conversation stretched, filled only with the sound of clattering dishes coming from the kitchen and the murmur of voices around them. Reenie would have piped up with something, but she knew it was unlikely either of her companions would respond. They were in their own little world now. Lucky’s demeanor indicated she’d finally given up trying to change Gabe’s attitude.
“What is it you want from me?” Gabe asked at last.
“I’d like to know what you hold against me,” Lucky said. “What I’ve done to make you dislike me so much.”
Reenie swallowed hard, expecting the situation to blow up in her face, and was surprised when Gabe backed off.
He jiggled the ice in his water glass. “Do whatever you want,” he said gruffly. “As far as I’m concerned, the two of you can plan the whole thing. I—”
“Forget the party,” Lucky interrupted, holding her chin at a challenging angle. “Just answer my question.”
His scowl darkened. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
He started to wheel himself away, but Lucky stood and intercepted him, boldly placing a hand on his well-muscled arm. “No, I’ll leave. You stay and keep on pouting about the fact that your father slept with my mother twenty-six years ago, since you can’t seem to get over it,” she said. “But I want you to know I’ve finally realized something.” She grabbed her purse before turning her attention to him once again. “I was a fool for wanting you to like me. I was a fool for trying as hard as I have to convince you I might make a good friend.” She gave him a bitter smile. “Go to hell, Gabe. I don’t care if my husband loves you like a brother, if the father I’ve grown to respect worships the ground beneath your feet, if Reenie insists that you aren’t the ogre you seem to be. The moment I come into the picture, you’re not the man everyone thinks you are, and I don’t want to be part of your life anymore,” she said. Then, head held high, she strode proudly to the exit.
Reenie heard the bell jingle over the door as Lucky left, but it was several seconds before she could let go of her breath. “Happy now?” she muttered.
Gabe was still staring after their half sister, looking stunned. Finally he blinked and focused on Reenie. “I didn’t do anything to her. I’ve never done anything to her.”
“That’s not true, Gabe. All she wants is your acceptance. But you’ve turned your back on every overture she’s made.” Reenie slid around the vinyl seat. “As far as I’m concerned, you got what you deserve.”
“Where are you going?” he asked, obviously surprised that she’d desert him, too.
“Keith will be home today,” she said. “The girls and I have things to do.”
CHAPTER TWO
Los Angeles, California
ISAAC COULDN’T HELP puzzling over Keith’s behavior. He vacillated between believing he must have misconstrued the situation, and wondering what his brother-in-law was hiding. A forty-five-car pileup was no small thing. A traveler would definitely notice something like that. And Isaac didn’t believe for a moment that Elizabeth had mixed up the dates. She wouldn’t have pressed her husband as hard as she had if there was any possibility of that.
Maybe Keith had spotted the congested traffic and exited the freeway before realizing the extent of what had happened. And maybe, somehow, he had missed all the news reports of the accident the rest of the day.
Isaac didn’t know a whole lot about Sacramento, but he’d been there once, years ago, to meet up with an old girlfriend who’d long since passed out of his life. If he remembered right, the airport was pretty far out of town, connected to the city by only one street, a major freeway. But that could’ve changed….
Hoping that he’d arrived at a logical explanation, Isaac stared at a map of Sacramento on the computer in Keith’s home office. It looked as if there were a few exits off Interstate 5 that Keith could’ve taken. But the airport still sat amid large tracts of farmland. Would someone not very familiar with the area, someone sitting in fog thick enough to cause that big a pileup, know how to get around a traffic jam when there were so few options available?
It didn’t seem entirely plausible, but there was always the possibility that Keith knew Sacramento better than Isaac thought. He certainly traveled enough.
“Isaac?” Elizabeth called from the kitchen.
“What?” he replied, still studying the map.
“Telephone.”
Isaac blinked in surprise. He’d been so absorbed in what he was doing he hadn’t even heard the phone ring.
Leaning to the right of the computer, he breathed in the scent of furniture polish as he reached for the handset.
“Hello?”
“Isaac?”
A strong British accent immediately identified the caller as Reginald Woolston, Isaac’s Department Head at Chicago University. “What’s up, Reggie?”
“Good news. I just received a call from the Research Grants Program of the Center for Tropical Forest Science.”
Isaac sat taller. “And?”
“They’re forwarding your application to the interview committee. They’d like to meet you.”
With Reginald’s help, Isaac had submitted his application months ago,
