client, was she?”
Marian MacAdam flashed through her mind . Don’t go there, Kate.
Eddie stirred the pasta in the pot, studying its contents as if the answer lay in there. “No. This girl—Heather Rigby was her name—went missing the year my daughter was born. I remember cuddling this fragile, vulnerable baby to my chest and feeling horror-stricken that someone else’s daughter could just disappear like that. Heather was the kind of girl you’d want your own kid to grow up to be.” Eddie sounded as if he had known her. Kate suspected he had studied the case carefully, applying his incisive mind to the facts, parsing the details, trying to find an answer to a terrifying question.
And did your daughter grow up to be like her? Kate wanted to ask. But she didn’t. She never would remind Eddie of what he had lost. Thrown away, was how he put it.
“And this girl was never found?”
Eddie shook his head. “No. There was a lot of media coverage—and even more false leads.” He drained the pasta in a colander. “I wonder if this discovery will give them something solid.”
“Do you think it could be her?”
Eddie shrugged. “Hard to say. On the one hand, I hope it is—her family would finally get closure. They never gave up looking for her, you know.” He turned away, busying himself with the act of serving their meal. Kate took the garlic bread out of the oven, and placed it on a wooden cutting board. She now knew Randall’s kitchen as well as her own, having mooched more than a few meals from Eddie.
Eddie set the plates on the granite counter. A typical bachelor, he didn’t use the table. At least he sat down to eat, Kate thought. They settled down with steaming plates of Bolognese, topped with the freshly grated parmigiano.
“On the other hand, I hope it isn’t this girl,” Eddie said, as if he hadn’t trailed off five minutes before. He twirled spaghetti on his fork. “Especially if it turns out whoever was found in that peat bog met a violent death. I know many families want to have closure, but sometimes not knowing is better than knowing.”
Tell me about it.
“So,” Eddie mumbled through a mouthful of spaghetti, “what is your itinerary for your trip to Europe?”
Kate took a sip of water. Eddie never served wine and Kate never offered to bring any. “Well, Nat and I decided that we’d each choose a country and surprise each other.”
Eddie arched a brow. “That could either be a spectacular idea or…” He dug a spoon into the bowl of grated parmigiano and sprinkled even clumps over his meat sauce. “Let me guess, Italy was your pick?”
Kate grinned. “Uh-huh. I’m all about the food.”
“And Nat?”
“England. I have a feeling I’ll be tramping through a lot of old castles. She’s obsessed with the history there. And the whole royalty thing. She’s hoping to see Kate Middleton’s wedding gown.” Kate rolled her eyes. She would never admit it, but she wanted to see it, too.
“From the sounds of it—” Eddie shook the saltshaker vigorously over his pasta “—each of you choosing a country to plan the itinerary falls into the ‘spectacular idea’ category. You are each passionate about different things—could be very educational for both of you.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to come?”
Eddie snorted. “Kate, you don’t need a fat old fart like me trailing you around the streets of Italy.”
Kate put down her fork and stared at Eddie. “What are you talking about? You are not an old fart.”
Eddie shook his head. “I am, Kate. I’m overweight. I chain-smoke. I’m fifty-three years old. Not only that, I’m a recovering alcoholic—”
Kate tried not to let her concern show on her face. Eddie rarely sought sympathy, but he seemed to be fighting the blues tonight.
“Who still has a full head of hair—” Darn, that didn’t even garner a smile. She plowed on. “Who is also a brilliant criminal defense lawyer, and a pretty mean cook.” She bit into her garlic
Marian MacAdam flashed through her mind . Don’t go there, Kate.
Eddie stirred the pasta in the pot, studying its contents as if the answer lay in there. “No. This girl—Heather Rigby was her name—went missing the year my daughter was born. I remember cuddling this fragile, vulnerable baby to my chest and feeling horror-stricken that someone else’s daughter could just disappear like that. Heather was the kind of girl you’d want your own kid to grow up to be.” Eddie sounded as if he had known her. Kate suspected he had studied the case carefully, applying his incisive mind to the facts, parsing the details, trying to find an answer to a terrifying question.
And did your daughter grow up to be like her? Kate wanted to ask. But she didn’t. She never would remind Eddie of what he had lost. Thrown away, was how he put it.
“And this girl was never found?”
Eddie shook his head. “No. There was a lot of media coverage—and even more false leads.” He drained the pasta in a colander. “I wonder if this discovery will give them something solid.”
“Do you think it could be her?”
Eddie shrugged. “Hard to say. On the one hand, I hope it is—her family would finally get closure. They never gave up looking for her, you know.” He turned away, busying himself with the act of serving their meal. Kate took the garlic bread out of the oven, and placed it on a wooden cutting board. She now knew Randall’s kitchen as well as her own, having mooched more than a few meals from Eddie.
Eddie set the plates on the granite counter. A typical bachelor, he didn’t use the table. At least he sat down to eat, Kate thought. They settled down with steaming plates of Bolognese, topped with the freshly grated parmigiano.
“On the other hand, I hope it isn’t this girl,” Eddie said, as if he hadn’t trailed off five minutes before. He twirled spaghetti on his fork. “Especially if it turns out whoever was found in that peat bog met a violent death. I know many families want to have closure, but sometimes not knowing is better than knowing.”
Tell me about it.
“So,” Eddie mumbled through a mouthful of spaghetti, “what is your itinerary for your trip to Europe?”
Kate took a sip of water. Eddie never served wine and Kate never offered to bring any. “Well, Nat and I decided that we’d each choose a country and surprise each other.”
Eddie arched a brow. “That could either be a spectacular idea or…” He dug a spoon into the bowl of grated parmigiano and sprinkled even clumps over his meat sauce. “Let me guess, Italy was your pick?”
Kate grinned. “Uh-huh. I’m all about the food.”
“And Nat?”
“England. I have a feeling I’ll be tramping through a lot of old castles. She’s obsessed with the history there. And the whole royalty thing. She’s hoping to see Kate Middleton’s wedding gown.” Kate rolled her eyes. She would never admit it, but she wanted to see it, too.
“From the sounds of it—” Eddie shook the saltshaker vigorously over his pasta “—each of you choosing a country to plan the itinerary falls into the ‘spectacular idea’ category. You are each passionate about different things—could be very educational for both of you.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to come?”
Eddie snorted. “Kate, you don’t need a fat old fart like me trailing you around the streets of Italy.”
Kate put down her fork and stared at Eddie. “What are you talking about? You are not an old fart.”
Eddie shook his head. “I am, Kate. I’m overweight. I chain-smoke. I’m fifty-three years old. Not only that, I’m a recovering alcoholic—”
Kate tried not to let her concern show on her face. Eddie rarely sought sympathy, but he seemed to be fighting the blues tonight.
“Who still has a full head of hair—” Darn, that didn’t even garner a smile. She plowed on. “Who is also a brilliant criminal defense lawyer, and a pretty mean cook.” She bit into her garlic
Similar Books
