The Parks Empire: Secrets, Lies and Loves: Romancing the Enemy. Marie Ferrarella
of bookstores for clues to the missing relative.
“I wonder what he’s like,” Sara said when the men were leaving. “He was twenty-two when it happened, according to Mother. That would make him around forty-seven now. I wonder if he ever married and had a family.” She looked at Tyler. “His children would be our first cousins. We may never meet them.”
“We will,” Tyler vowed, looking stubborn. “We’ll find Derek. This time he won’t slip away before we can question him. We’ll make him tell us the truth.”
The Thursday-afternoon traffic was heavy when Cade and Stacy started for home after taking care of their shopping. He took the coast road, a much more pleasant drive than going directly through the city.
Even here, the street was more congested than usual. However, maintaining an even thirty-five miles an hour, he got through the traffic lights without having to stop after passing the Cliff House.
At the duplex, he parked in the driveway and noted that Sara’s car was in the other one. A tightness invaded his chest, while hunger and a yearning he couldn’t name clamored inside him. He hadn’t expected a lot from the meeting with her brother and friends last night, and he hadn’t gotten a lot. Given the circumstances, he could hardly blame them.
For himself, while he knew his father was ambitious and competitive, those traits were far from the calculated ruthlessness it would take to murder someone.
On the other hand, the circumstances surrounding Jeremy Carlton’s death were too strange to be ignored. He, too, felt a need to delve into the past and sort truth from fiction and supposition.
If they did prove Walter had murmured his partner, then what? Cade saw only a black hole where the future should be.
“Sara’s home,” Stacy announced. “I’ve got to show her my kitten. She can help me name her.”
Cade started to tell his daughter to leave their neighbor alone, but thought better of it. Stacy considered Sara her friend. There was no sense in expecting a child to understand adult complications. He would let the girls work it out between them.
Stacy carried the basket that contained the eight-week-old black-and-white kitten while he opened doors for her. She rushed through the town house to the deck.
“Sara, look what I have,” Stacy called as she exited and left the door open behind her. “A kitten. What shall we name her?”
“Let me see her, then maybe we can think of something really good,” Sara said. “Oh, how pretty. Look at those blue eyes, Stace. What’s something that goes with them?”
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