spot. “Please, Troy, for my dignity’s sake, leave me a few of my illusions, okay?”
To her surprise he crossed the room and placed a hand on her shoulder, but his touch was tentative, as if he were afraid that she might do something as foolish as turn to him and bury her face in his shoulder. There was hesitation in his eyes, a guardedness that never allowed her, or anyone else for that matter, too close. Two years younger than Caitlyn and Kelly, Troy, the only surviving son of their parents, had a huge burden to carry on his muscular shoulders. “It’s not that easy, Caitlyn. Your illusions tend to get you into trouble. Today isn’t the first time. It’s just the most serious.”
“You’re right,” she admitted and felt a sliver of regret for her anger. “Look, Troy, thanks for coming today. I needed to talk to someone and I thought I could count on you. I suppose I could have called Amanda. Her office is nearby, but, well, as much of a workaholic as she is, she sometimes works at home on the weekends. Besides, she’s always so busy.”
“And I’m not?”
Caitlyn managed a smile, the remainder of her outrage dissipating. “You’re the boss at the bank.”
“All the more reason for me to be there. Even on a Saturday.” But the fingers resting on her shoulder squeezed her gently, reminding her that they had a bond. “You know I’m here for you . . . I’m just not very good at the emotional support thing.”
“That’s all that macho-male posturing you’ve been doing since you were around twelve,” she said. “You’re like a porcupine, though. Bristly on the outside, soft in the middle.”
“And Amanda’s pure steel all the way through?” he asked, then checked his watch and scowled at the dial. “Look, I’ve really got to get back to the bank. I’ve got a client coming in soon.”
“I know. I’ll be okay.”
He wasn’t convinced. “Why don’t you go stay with Mom for a few days, just until the police figure out what’s going on and the vultures outside”—he hooked a thumb toward the front of the house to the windows visible past the foot of the stairs—“find other carrion to feed on.”
“Nice analogy,” she muttered, but followed his gaze nonetheless. Through the curtains and glass Caitlyn watched the newswoman in the purple dress walk toward the van. The cameraman was stowing his gear in zippered cases.
“Don’t be fooled. The minute those guys leave, more will show up.”
“I’ll be all right.”
“Will you?” he asked, and the question resonated through the house.
He didn’t say what he really thought, what the entire family had decided, that Caitlyn would never truly be healthy, that there would always be the past chasing her, that tragedy would forever be her companion. She’d seen her siblings exchange glances, detected their gazes staring at her only to slide furtively away when they sensed she’d caught them looking her way.
“Caitlyn?”
“What?”
“You’re sure you’ll be okay here?”
“I’ve got Oscar. He’s a fabulous companion and security system and I can pay him in dog chow,” she said lightly, but noticed the frown etching its way across her brother’s smooth brow. She let out a sigh and turned more serious. “Really, Troy, don’t worry.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I mean it.” She jutted out her jaw. Tried to look tough.
Troy’s eyebrows rose skeptically as he reached for his jacket. “It’s impossible not to worry about you.”
“Give it a shot, will ya?”
He managed a bit of a smile. “You know you can call me anytime.”
“And you’ll work me into your busy schedule?” she snapped.
“Ouch.”
“The truth hurts.”
“I came today, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, you did,” she admitted, with the barest trace of a smile. “And I appreciate it. Really.”
“Just promise me one thing.” His eyes narrowed on her as he slid his arms into the jacket’s sleeves and shrugged the shoulders into
To her surprise he crossed the room and placed a hand on her shoulder, but his touch was tentative, as if he were afraid that she might do something as foolish as turn to him and bury her face in his shoulder. There was hesitation in his eyes, a guardedness that never allowed her, or anyone else for that matter, too close. Two years younger than Caitlyn and Kelly, Troy, the only surviving son of their parents, had a huge burden to carry on his muscular shoulders. “It’s not that easy, Caitlyn. Your illusions tend to get you into trouble. Today isn’t the first time. It’s just the most serious.”
“You’re right,” she admitted and felt a sliver of regret for her anger. “Look, Troy, thanks for coming today. I needed to talk to someone and I thought I could count on you. I suppose I could have called Amanda. Her office is nearby, but, well, as much of a workaholic as she is, she sometimes works at home on the weekends. Besides, she’s always so busy.”
“And I’m not?”
Caitlyn managed a smile, the remainder of her outrage dissipating. “You’re the boss at the bank.”
“All the more reason for me to be there. Even on a Saturday.” But the fingers resting on her shoulder squeezed her gently, reminding her that they had a bond. “You know I’m here for you . . . I’m just not very good at the emotional support thing.”
“That’s all that macho-male posturing you’ve been doing since you were around twelve,” she said. “You’re like a porcupine, though. Bristly on the outside, soft in the middle.”
“And Amanda’s pure steel all the way through?” he asked, then checked his watch and scowled at the dial. “Look, I’ve really got to get back to the bank. I’ve got a client coming in soon.”
“I know. I’ll be okay.”
He wasn’t convinced. “Why don’t you go stay with Mom for a few days, just until the police figure out what’s going on and the vultures outside”—he hooked a thumb toward the front of the house to the windows visible past the foot of the stairs—“find other carrion to feed on.”
“Nice analogy,” she muttered, but followed his gaze nonetheless. Through the curtains and glass Caitlyn watched the newswoman in the purple dress walk toward the van. The cameraman was stowing his gear in zippered cases.
“Don’t be fooled. The minute those guys leave, more will show up.”
“I’ll be all right.”
“Will you?” he asked, and the question resonated through the house.
He didn’t say what he really thought, what the entire family had decided, that Caitlyn would never truly be healthy, that there would always be the past chasing her, that tragedy would forever be her companion. She’d seen her siblings exchange glances, detected their gazes staring at her only to slide furtively away when they sensed she’d caught them looking her way.
“Caitlyn?”
“What?”
“You’re sure you’ll be okay here?”
“I’ve got Oscar. He’s a fabulous companion and security system and I can pay him in dog chow,” she said lightly, but noticed the frown etching its way across her brother’s smooth brow. She let out a sigh and turned more serious. “Really, Troy, don’t worry.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I mean it.” She jutted out her jaw. Tried to look tough.
Troy’s eyebrows rose skeptically as he reached for his jacket. “It’s impossible not to worry about you.”
“Give it a shot, will ya?”
He managed a bit of a smile. “You know you can call me anytime.”
“And you’ll work me into your busy schedule?” she snapped.
“Ouch.”
“The truth hurts.”
“I came today, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, you did,” she admitted, with the barest trace of a smile. “And I appreciate it. Really.”
“Just promise me one thing.” His eyes narrowed on her as he slid his arms into the jacket’s sleeves and shrugged the shoulders into
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