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Inheritance (The Lost Bride Trilogy, #1)(167)

Author:Nora Roberts

“I don’t know. But I didn’t see it.”

“Neither did any-damn-body. I’ll go see her tomorrow, if you think that’s okay. If she’s up to it.”

“Yeah.” Trey downed some whiskey. “I think she could use all the support she can get.”

“Wes did good work when he was sober.” Owen spoke carefully. “I can’t say he was ever the cheerful sort, but he did good work, kept his head down, collected his pay. The last few years, he didn’t stay sober. Did half-assed work, picked fights, came in when he damn well pleased.”

Shaking his head, Owen studied the whiskey in his glass. “He got belligerent when I tried to talk to him. I had to let him go.”

Catching the tone, Trey met Owen’s eyes. “This isn’t on you. None of it.”

“No, not on me, not on you either. It’s on him. But firing him pushed the cycle, I’d say. How long you figure they’ll give him?”

Trey closed his eyes. He’d had a beer with Wes Mooney at the Village Pub over the years, enjoyed a potluck cookout in their backyard, watched the oldest play a Little League game or two.

And now?

“Felony assault, and domestic adds to it. Add the breaking in. They’ll go for at least sexual assault if not the attempted rape. The extent of her injuries adds to it. In front of the kids adds to it, and the door bashed the kid in the face when he shoved it open. Bloodied his nose. We had a restraining order on him because he came by drunk to pick up the kids and threatened her when she wouldn’t let him have them. Took a couple swings at Bob, so that’s another charge.”

“Drunk and stupid, seeing as Bob’s twice his size.”

“Which he found out. Property damage. Resisting arrest. He’s looking at ten to twenty.”

“He earned it.”

“Yeah, he did. Her family wants her to go back to New Hampshire with them when she’s able. I think she will.” After downing the rest of the whiskey, Trey poured them both another.

“She wants full custody of the kids, so I’ll work on that. She’ll get it.”

“Fucking A.”

“Not always a slam dunk.”

“Should be.”

“Should ain’t is. But he bloodied the kid’s nose, put Marlo in the hospital. I’m going to make damn sure she gets full custody and clearance to move out of state. What were you working on?”

“Cleopatra’s barge. The little Sunfish.” Owen shrugged. “Had a little time, had an idea.”

“Such as?”

“She likes mermaids, doesn’t she?” Rising, Owen pulled the drawing out of the slot, opened it. “So how about a pair of mermaids swimming up port and starboard toward the bow? Add some carving. It’ll be fun to work on.”

Trey scooted his chair for a better angle. “And seriously cool. You’re trading her this for a painting?”

“Have you seen the painting?”

“Got a glimpse when we hauled that chest in there. It’s a beauty. So’s the artist.”

“Yeah, they’ve both got the looks. And it’s a fair trade. Anyway, she might not want the fancy work. She’d be stupid not to,” he considered, “and she doesn’t come off stupid, but we’ll see. I’m just playing with it, spare time.”

“I’m taking my spare time and crashing. Thanks for the drink, and the bunk.”

“Always here.”

Owen’s spare room had started as an office, but Owen had deemed it too closed in. No elbow room.

He preferred the kitchen table or one of the workbenches in his shop.

So in its current state, it held a bed, a nightstand he’d built himself, and a dresser no one used that he’d refinished.

The walls, a sad beige, bore a few stripes of paint Owen tested and had yet to decide on.

Trey stripped down to his boxers, dropped down on the bed, and was asleep almost before he yanked up the covers.

* * *

In the manor, Cleo barely stirred when the clock sounded. Rolling over, she snuggled into her nest of pillows and floated in that netherworld between wake and sleep.

The piano music drifted up, and used to it, she drifted back off.

Somewhere, deeper in the house, a woman wept. Somewhere, deeper yet, one cried out in pain.

“Everybody quiet down,” she muttered.

Then she shot straight up when she felt a hand on her shoulder, when she heard a voice whisper, urgently: Sonya.

Pulse racing, she fumbled for the light. Alone in her room, she rubbed a hand between her breasts so her heart wouldn’t just leap out. No panicking, she ordered herself. Absolutely not again.