LITMIR.BIZ

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      “Evidently, it’s a chocolate shop,” he said, focusing on his work.

      The man’s expensive Italian loafers made barely any sound as he wandered over and stood beside the ladder. “Why doesn’t she just call it that?”

      Carter reloaded the paint on his roller. He remembered what Liz had said about the movie, and he liked the idea. But Russell’s condescending attitude made him undeserving of an explanation. “I guess she doesn’t want to.”

      At the coolness of his response, Liz’s father propped his hands on his hips, splaying well-manicured fingers—one of which sported a large diamond. Either he had money or he liked to pretend he did. Carter was betting on the latter.

      “Who did you say you are?” Russell asked.

      “A friend of a friend,” Carter responded.

      “So you know Keith?”

      “Not really.”

      “In a town this size?”

      “I’m new.”

      Russell had to be nearing sixty, but the years had been kind to him. If not for the crow’s feet at his eyes and the subtle lines around his mouth, he could easily pass for ten, maybe fifteen years younger. He certainly took care of himself. Judging by his muscular physique, he worked out often. And he went to the added trouble of coloring his hair. It stuck up a bit as if he hadn’t showered after rolling out of bed this morning, but it was completely brown, without any hint of gray.

      “How well do you know Liz?” he asked.

      “Not very well,” Carter admitted.

      “You two aren’t dating, are you?”

      Russell said it as if he wouldn’t be pleased to see his daughter fall for a mere painter. Carter took exception to the implication but refused to reveal how much it bugged him. “No, we’re not dating.” He didn’t bother to explain that they’d had dinner together last night. One evening didn’t qualify.

      Liz’s father consulted the thin gold watch at his wrist.

      Carter sensed that his visitor was growing impatient, but Russell didn’t leave. He walked into the back rooms, poked around, used the restroom.

      “Maybe I should go back to the diner down the street,” he said when he returned. “The waitress who told me Liz would be here might be able to give me directions to her house.”

      “Probably,” Carter said. “But I don’t think your daughter went home.”

      “There’re only so many places she could be in this Podunk town.” With one foot, he tapped the wrapper of Carter’s new roller. “To be honest, I don’t know how you stand it.”

      “It has its benefits,” Carter said.

      Russell didn’t appear to be convinced. “Really?”

      “Sure. Depends on what you’re looking for, right?”

      “What are you looking for?”

      Carter needed the space. He’d lost the idealism that had once characterized him so strongly—the belief that good would eventually prevail. Because of that, he didn’t have the patience he’d once possessed, the kindness, the diplomacy or the understanding. Hell, he didn’t even have the desire to be close to anyone.

      Charles Hooper, who was now spending the rest of his life in prison, had seen to that.

      “A crab feed on the front page of the newspaper,” he mumbled.

      “Did you say crab feed?” The deep grooves in Russell’s forehead revealed his confusion at such an answer, but he didn’t have time to question Carter further. The door swung open and Liz walked in.

      “Sorry that took so—”

      Her words trailed off as soon as she saw her father.

      “Surprise!” Crossing over to her, Russell swept her into his arms.

      Liz didn’t push away, but neither did she respond to the embrace. She tolerated it—at least that was Carter’s interpretation.

      “Keith told me he saw you in town,” she said, her voice breathless and wispy.

      “Can you believe it?” Russell’s response was a little too loud to sound completely natural. “Me, all the way out here? I’m already going nuts without a Starbucks on one corner and a golf course on the other. What made you move to the boonies?”

      He acted as if Liz’s relocation was something that had just happened. But Carter was fairly certain she’d been living in Dundee for over a year. Maybe two.

      “I like it here,” she said simply.

      She didn’t mention what Keith had done to her—that she’d only come because of her children. Anyone even remotely connected to her knew about that scandal. So how was it her father didn’t?

      “To each his own, I guess.” He waved toward Carter. “Your painter wants a crab feed on the front page of the paper. He doesn’t ask for much, eh?”

      Liz offered Carter a quick, apologetic smile. “He’s not my painter.”

      “No?”

      “He works for Senator Holbrook. He’s just helping me out.”

      “There’s a senator in the area?” Russell said. Obviously that was the part that impressed him most.

      “A state senator,” Liz clarified. “He’s Isaac’s father-in-law.”

      At the mention of Isaac, there was a strained silence, but Russell’s pleasant expression remained stubbornly in place. “Isaac married, huh?”

      “Yes. A year ago.”

      “Good for him. Sounds like it’s about time I came out. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

      Liz clutched her purse to her side. She hadn’t taken a single step from where she’d been when her father had hugged her. “Where are you staying?”

      “I’m not sure,” he said. “Is there a motel around here?”

      Liz’s father must’ve passed the Timberline on his way through town. Carter guessed he was hinting—hoping Liz would put him up.

      “There is,” she said. “But…”

      “The Timberline’s only sixty-five bucks a night,” Carter volunteered.

      Russell blinked at him, but Liz made the offer anyway. “I guess you could stay with me. For a few days,” she added quickly.

      Carter shook his head. He couldn’t protect people from themselves. He’d learned that the hard way.

      “A few days ought to be enough,” Gordon said. “I’m just here to meet those kids of yours.”

      Had this guy been out of the country? Carter wondered. Liz’s children had to be six and nine, at least. Maybe older.

      “Right,” she said, but she seemed more confused than anything, and immediately launched into a series of questions. “So you’re retired now? You’ve sold your law practice or…or closed it down?”

      “I sold out to my two partners, coupla years ago. Got a good price, too. It’s nothing but traveling and golf for me. A whole new life.”

      “And Luanna?” Liz asked.

      A shadow fell over Russell’s face. Carter told himself to keep painting, that the scene unfolding beside him was none of his business. But he hadn’t felt so much tension crackling in the air since he’d arrived in Dundee. He slowed his paint strokes so he could hear clearly over the spin of his roller.

      “We split up.”

      “Does that mean it’s over?

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