“Not a soul. Gotta go!” I waved and ran for my SUV. I put the pedal to the metal, narrowly missing an oncoming car as I blew onto the highway toward my grandfather’s house.

Steam billowed out my ears. Candice hadn’t so much lied to me as much as she’d sheltered me from a few important details, such as the fact that Frank Majestic—the man my father had turned in so long ago—also considered me a threat. It sure would have been nice to know that information before I took the box from Candice with a promise to deliver it to my grandfather. And what about her claim that she was a professional photographer? I hadn’t realized she meant behind the lens of a spy-cam.

I glanced at the box of photos on the seat next to me. Candice had obviously catalogued a couple decades of incriminating evidence, including the night my mother met with my father at the Watering Hole. I wish Candice would have told me she’d been there. She must have known that Baker and Johnson were the men my dad saw waiting for him before he ran out the back door. And the two deadbeats had been at the edge of the quarry when there was nothing but taillights showing at the bottom. No wonder Homer Johnson had been so certain my mother had killed herself. He’d actually witnessed the crash and had the gall to lie about it.

I took the curve past Port Silvan. The pictures in the black box had been Candice’s life insurance policy. What would happen now that they were out of her hands?

I stared at the road ahead. Why did I even care?

The lake house looked serene as ever against the blue backdrop of Silvan Bay. I parked in the circle drive, one front tire cockeyed on the curb. Inside, Great-Grandma Olivia sat on her high-back chair in the living room.

“Hi, Grandma.” I gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Have you seen Puppa around?”

She looked at the box under my arm. “What’s in there? A gun? Have you come to kill your old grandmother as well?”

I shook my head. “Don’t be silly. I haven’t killed anyone.”

“That’s not what I heard. It’s all over town. Drake Belmont’s dead and you killed him because of that Melissa woman.”

I plunked onto the couch, the box of photos burning a hole in my lap. “Oh, Great-Gram. It’s all just a bunch of gossip. Why do you even listen?”

“I make it my business to know what’s going on in this town. The Belmonts and Russos were among the founding families. It’s my duty to see that Port Silvan stays civilized.”

I looked at the frail old woman. Her shoulders were hunched with the weight of her obligation.

“Grandma Olivia,” I said softly, “did you overhear me telling Puppa about Melissa that day in your bedroom?”

She nodded and looked to the floor. “I knew a good girl like Melissa would never leave her husband. I made an anonymous call to the state police and told them what Drake was doing—and what he was doing to her.” She played with the gold locket dangling from her neck. “I remember how hard it was to look in the mirror every morning when someone you loved was so cruel.”

“Making that call must have been hard. But it gave Melissa the chance she needed to try to get her life together.” I set the box of photos aside and kneeled next to her, patting her shoulder.

She clenched a fist in her lap. “I didn’t know I’d start all this trouble. I just wanted to help Melissa. But then you tried to help and now you’re in trouble too. First they burned down your little barn. Now Drake’s dead. It’s just like the time your mother tried to help Jacob. Look what happened to her.” She wrung her hands in her lap. “I feel so terrible, Patricia. I know your mother didn’t turn in Sid. I’m the one that made that phone call. I figured time in jail would convince him to stay out of the drugs. How was I to know Sid’s drug boss would start that house fire? The police didn’t even have a chance to arrest him or he’d still be alive today.”

“No, Great-Gram, that fire had nothing to do with you. You aren’t to blame for any of that. Okay?”

“I’ll always feel responsible. And now I’ve put you in danger too. I should have learned.”

I couldn’t tell her about Candice’s part in the fire and Drake’s death without upsetting her more. “Listen.” I took Olivia’s hands in mine and looked her straight in the eye. “I’m a Belmont and Russo too.” It felt good to claim my full heritage. “How about if I take over your job? If you hear of anything going wrong in this town, you tell me about it and I’ll fix it. Okay? You deserve some time off.”

Olivia’s lip quivered. Her eyes teared up. “Yes. I think that will be okay. You handled Drake, didn’t you? And that was the right thing to do. Melissa shouldn’t have had to live like I had to all those years.”

I hugged her from the side. “You’ve been so brave your whole life. You made it through so much. I’m so proud of you.”

She was all tears by now and couldn’t even open her eyes. She clung to my shoulder. “Thank you, Patricia.”

After she calmed somewhat, I grabbed some tissue from the dispenser on the end table and helped her dry her face. “I’m so lucky to know you.” I dabbed at the deep crow’s feet around her eyes. “I’d like to hear more about your life sometime. How about Thursdays we get together?”

Olivia nodded.

Then, despite the crushing urgency of the box of photos, I boiled water and made two cups of tea.

We were laughing over a horse named Sarge that once belonged to Olivia’s father, when Puppa, Joel, and Brad walked into the room.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

My grandfather answered. “I just got a call from Candice.”

“Is she okay? I was just at her house, and—”

He cut me off. “She says you have a box that belongs to her.”

“Yes. She asked me to give it to you. I have it right there.” I pointed to the sofa.

Grandfather’s eyes darted to the box and back to me. “Did you look through it?”

I swallowed. “That would be like opening somebody else’s mail.”

“We’ll take it from here. You better get back to the lodge,” Puppa said.

“Why? What’s going on? Is Candice going to be alright?”

Brad gently steered me out the front door and to my vehicle. “I’ll drop by later and fill you in. Everything’s going to be okay.” He dipped his head and kissed me. My lips tried to keep his as he pulled away. He slammed the door shut. “Hurry home, Tish.”

37

In my rearview mirror, I watched Brad walk into the house. The newly awakened adult in me felt indignant at the treatment I’d gotten from the men, as if I weren’t mature enough to handle the details regarding Candice’s situation. Puppa hadn’t spoken to her in years. And what did Joel and Brad even know about her? Maybe she’d lied to me, killed a few men in her life, and told me to get a new boyfriend, but we’d also had a lot of good times together. If she needed help, I should be the one to give it.

I drove up Puppa’s drive toward the highway, slowing to see my gentle mare. Heaven Hill Gold grazed in green pastures by still waters, a place I hoped to land someday. I smiled with excitement. Tomorrow Brad and I would go to town, he’d pop the question, and then perhaps I’d begin to see glimpses of my own green pastures.

I pulled onto the main road. I hadn’t spent as much time as I would have liked to with my pretty pony. Life always seemed to get in the way. I made a promise over my shoulder as I drove off that I’d be down to visit every day—starting tomorrow.


Back at the lodge, the gang was just finishing supper. I took the last of the chicken-and-dumpling soup and grilled myself a ham and cheese sandwich. I helped with the cleanup while Missy and Gerard took the kids for a stroll on the beach.

As I waited for the sink to fill with water, the little family of four walked past the kitchen window. Hannah swung between the two adults while Andrew roughed up Gerard’s five-o’clock shadow from his perch on the man’s hip.

“So when did Gerard start doing daylight duty, anyway?” I wasn’t sure I cared to see the very pregnant and newly widowed Melissa looking so content with my rascal cousin.

“I think it’s cute.” Samantha soaked a dishcloth and wiped down the counters. “He’s so good with those kids. And she seems happy when he’s around, not afraid all the time like she used to be.”

I scrubbed the soup pan. Missy was fortunate to have a protector, after what she’d been through. But was my cousin Gerard really a suitable candidate? She’d be going from one drug runner to another. Anyway, it seemed like a woman should know how to be content on her own, without a man around, before getting all cozy in a relationship.

I putzed around with the fry pan, coating it with bubbles. I scrubbed with a wire pad, wondering if my logic applied to my relationship with Brad as well. Had I ever been content on my own, or was I always looking for something more, something better, something to fill the empty ache within? Something Brad might or might not be able to provide?

I flipped the pan over and washed the back, distracted by a butterfly outside the window. It bobbed and swirled and dipped and jogged, apparently headed wherever the breeze blew. It seemed satisfied with its carefree existence. It had nothing to do, nowhere to go, no larger purpose in the universe. And yet, God cared for it and directed its path, however meaningless and circuitous the route appeared from my place at the window.

I picked up a towel and dried the pan. Was God directing my path too? I wondered if I could be happy going wherever the Spirit of God blew me. Could I accept the next situation and place God directed that I go, even if it was jail?