See You Again

by Kait Nolan

  Kane lifted a brow, the equivalent to a shock on his usually impassive face. “Thirty years, sir?”

  “We go back a long way.”

  The other man studied him with the kind of flat, assessing stare Trey felt certain he’d used in interrogation. “This isn’t your usual kind of request.”

  “No. It’s personal. I believe he’s a threat to my wife.” No reason to keep that a secret. Kane could ferret the information out in less than five minutes, if he’d a mind to.

  “I didn’t realize you’d remarried. Congratulations, sir.”

  “Thank you. It’s recent and we haven’t announced it yet.”

  “And would your blushing bride happen to be the former Mrs. Crawford?”

  Trey had reason to know Kane’s observational skills rivaled those of Sherlock Holmes, but it probably didn’t take a former spy to suss that out from the current situation. “Yes.”

  The silence stretched out as they stared at each other.

  At last, Kane nodded. “Okay. Might take some time to dig back that far.”

  “His current location and reason for being here is priority. He’s up to something, and I want to know what. By Saturday morning. Her son is getting married, and I want to be certain Crawford doesn’t crash the wedding.”

  “I’ll do my best, sir.”

  Trey scribbled down Sandy’s old address on Maple Street and handed the paper over. “Per usual, discretion is paramount. My wife isn’t aware I’m looking into this.”

  “Understood.” Kane rose and prowled toward the door as silently as he’d entered. “I’ll be in touch.”

  ~*~

  Joseph Burke hadn’t changed a whit since college. He was still as long-winded as ever—if eloquent. But he failed to display his daughter’s sensitivity to audience as he continued to wax poetic in his toast to the bride and groom. Sandy resisted the urge to check her watch to see how long he’d been going and instead slowly turned her wine glass by the stem. Thank God, they’d saved toasts until after the main course was served.

  At least he wasn’t being critical. Poor Norah had been on edge since the moment he’d gotten off the plane. She sat at the center of one of the long tables set up for the rehearsal dinner, hand clasped with Cam’s, her face set in stiff, polite lines, clearly waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  As waitstaff silently cleared away the dinner plates and began to serve dessert, Sandy saw Norah’s mother, Margaret, reach up to tap her ex-husband on the arm, making a clear wrap it up gesture.

  “In short, I wish you both all the happiness in the world. Cheers.” Joseph raised his glass.

  Short, my ass. But Sandy raised her glass and murmured “Cheers,” along with everyone else before sipping and shoving back her chair. Hers was the last toast.

  She skimmed her gaze over the assembled group, smiling at the groomsmen she’d known since they were boys and the bridesmaids who’d become as close as sisters to Norah, nodding to her brothers, their wives, her mother, before settling on her son and his bride. Trey wasn’t among them. He’d sent his regrets for the dinner and the wedding via Louis, saying he didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable or take attention off the happy couple. They hadn’t spoken in two days, not since the fight at her mother’s. She’d wanted him here beside her to share in the joy of this wedding. His absence had a presence, an invisible weight that left her keenly aware of what she was missing. She felt awful. Yes, he was angry with her, but he’d never have missed Norah’s wedding just because of that. He was making the sacrifice for her comfort, to eliminate any awkwardness and keep the focus on Norah and Cam.

  Cam’s brows drew together in concern, and Sandy realized she’d been standing there saying nothing for far too long. She pasted on a smile. “I’ll keep this brief because I know we all want to get to our dessert. Norah, I told you once, when you first got involved with my son, that it’s a smart thing for a mother to learn to care for the woman her son chooses, and it’s a real gift to legitimately like and respect her. But I had no idea how much I’d grow to love you. You have brought immeasurable joy to Cam’s life and to mine, and I couldn’t be more delighted to be making you a formal part of the family. Welcome.” She raised her glass. “To Cam and Norah.”

  The sentiment was echoed around the room.

  Sandy drank and sat.

  Liz leaned close and whispered, “You okay?”

  “Fine.” She amped up the smile, knowing it was a little strained around the edges. “Weddings just make me emotional. I’m so happy for them.”

  Her sister-in-law put an arm around her shoulder and squeezed. Sandy knew Liz didn’t believe her, but she’d let it slide.

  The remainder of the dinner passed in a blur. The kids kept conversation lively and the general mood was jubilant that the wedding was finally happening, despite scheduling conflicts and storm damage. When the party broke up, they wandered en masse out to the parking lot, exchanging hugs and farewells. Sandy couldn’t wait to get home and get out of this suit and these heels. More, she wanted away from the prying eyes of her family. Maybe Trey would be ready to talk.

  Reflexively, she dug into her purse for her phone, to check whether he’d called. “Oh, I left my phone inside.”

  Jimmy and Anita paused by their car. “We’ll wait for you.”

  Sandy waved them off. “No need. Go home. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day and we all need some rest.”

  “Are you sure?” Anita asked.

  “Positive. Go.”

  “We’ll see you in the morning,” Jimmy promised.

  Inside Tosca, Sandy retrieved her phone from the private room in the back. Trey hadn’t called. Biting back her disappointment, she detoured through the bar, for a quick trip to the restroom before heading home. Of course, that meant she got snagged by three different acquaintances and forced to make polite conversation about the upcoming wedding. By the time she emerged from the bathroom, her nerves were shot and her politician’s mask was in pieces. She needed to get home.

  “Hello, Sandy.”

  Her heart jolted and she stumbled to a stop as a tall figure peeled off the wall in the short hallway. Irritation replaced the instinctive fear. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Her ex-husband smiled the broad grin she’d once found charming. “Saw you were here and wanted to say hello.”

  “Goodbye.” Sandy shoved by him, striding with purpose toward the door.

  Waylan followed. Fine. She’d rather say what she had to say to him in the parking lot. Automatically, she scanned the cars, looking for witnesses. It wouldn’t do for her constituency to see her lose her veritable shit with her ex. Seeing no one, she rounded on him. “I don’t know what you think you’re up to, Waylan, but I told you four years ago, and every other time before that—you will not get another penny from me. So, drag yourself back to whatever rock you crawled out from.”

  He pressed a hand to his heart. “You wound me, sweetheart.”

  “Don’t you sweetheart me. Just get the hell out of my town.”

  “It may shock you to hear, I’m not here for money or for you.”

  That left only one thing. “Cam doesn’t want you at the wedding.”

  Surprise cracked his charmer facade. “Cam’s getting married?”

  Sandy cursed herself for letting that spill. But if he wasn’t here for the wedding or for money from her, then why was he here? “That’s none of your business.”

  “He’s my son. That makes him my business.”

  “He stopped being your business when you abandoned him. You were no kind of father to him. You had nothing to do with the raising of him and did everything in your power to avoid a relationship with him. So, no, Waylan, he’s not your business. Nothing about his life is your business, and I’m telling you, you can’t be here.”

  “It’s a free country, Sandy. I have a right to see my son get married.”

  The blood drained from her face. Dear God, if he showed up, the wedding would turn into a riot.
“Don’t do this. If you love him at all, don’t ruin his wedding day by crashing it.”

  “I’m not going to ruin anything. I just want to see him get hitched and wish him well. Where’s this whole shindig going down?”

  Unbelievable. Abruptly, she thought of Trey. He’d removed himself from the entire event he’d helped orchestrate and largely funded just because he didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. And here was Waylan, who gave not a damn about how Cam or anyone else felt. Per usual, all he cared about was himself.

  “You won’t be hearing it from me.”

  “Doesn’t matter. It’s a small town. Someone else will tell me.”

  Sandy wasn’t going to continue this conversation. She needed to get out of here before she did something radical, like planting her fist in his face. Apparently, her family’s aggression had bled over. Digging out her keys, she unlocked the driver’s side door and opened it. Before she could slide inside, Waylan reached out and shoved it closed again.

  For the first time, a trickle of unease bled through her temper. “What are you doing?”

  “We’re not done with our conversation.”

  “We most certainly are.” She yanked on the door handle, but he didn’t move out of the way. For the first time in years, she registered her ex-husband as more than an irritation.

  A few spaces away, a car door opened and a hulking man slid out. “You okay, ma’am?”

  Sandy chanced a glance in his direction. She didn’t know him. By his neutral accent, he certainly wasn’t from around here. How long had this guy been sitting there? Why had he just been sitting in his car? It didn’t matter. He had her gratitude because as soon as he took a few steps toward them, Waylan eased back, lifting his hands in the universal gesture of no threat, a smile of apology creasing his cheeks.

  Sandy called herself a fool for giving in to Trey’s paranoia. Of course, Waylan was no threat. She yanked open her car door. “I’m fine, thank you.”

  The stranger nodded, his eyes staying on Waylan.

  Sandy slipped into the car.

  “I’ll see you at the wedding,” Waylan called.

  “I’ll see you in Hell,” she answered, and slammed the car door.

  Chapter 11

  Trey wanted to escape. The town he loved felt like a prison without the woman it represented. He knew a single phone call would have his chopper ready to go. In an hour, he could be leaving the tarmac of the Lawley airport on his jet, headed back to Denver or to London or any number of his other ventures. He had business all over the world, projects that could and probably should demand his attention. He could get back to real life and away from this dream that had turned into a nightmare.

  But throwing himself into his work to avoid his marriage was something he’d done before. He couldn’t leave without talking to Sandy. They had to resolve things, one way or the other. He had a feeling the resolution would be dissolution—whether he liked it or not. Because as much as he wanted to give her the world, it was not in his power to be the guy who stood aside. That wasn’t who he was and wasn’t someone he was willing to become. Not even for her.

  Neither of them were likely to come out of that conversation unscathed, so it would have to wait. Trey didn’t want to do anything else to upset her or otherwise ruin Norah and Cam’s wedding. They all deserved better than that.

  Preparations were proceeding apace down on the town green. He watched the bustle of people going to and fro. The tents were already put up for the reception and a small army was attaching bows and greenery to the rows and rows of folding chairs lining the sidewalk up to the fountain. The day had dawned sunny and promised to be a balmy sixty degrees—perfect for an outdoor ceremony. His hotel manager had been informed this morning that local law enforcement would be blocking off the roads around the green for the ceremony. One of the perks of the groom’s mother being mayor, he supposed. With all the people pitching in to make this happen, the guest list had swelled to encompass most of the town, so they’d need all the space they could get.

  He wished he were still on it, but he’d have to settle for watching the proceedings from here in his office.

  The intercom buzzed. “Mr. Kane to see you, sir.”

  At last, answers. “Send him in.”

  Trey turned from the window to greet the private investigator. “What have you got for me?”

  Kane looked calm as ever and Trey had the absurd thought that he never wanted to meet the guy across a poker table.

  “Our Mr. Crawford has been a naughty boy.” He pulled a thick folio out of his messenger bag. “I didn’t quite make it back thirty years yet, but the past decade should certainly make for interesting reading.”

  “Highlights?”

  Kane dropped into a chair. “He’s a guy always out to make a quick buck, and he doesn’t seem to care much off who. For years he’s toed the line, staying just this side of legal, engaging in smarmy business practices but nothing outright criminal.”

  So far, nothing Trey hadn’t expected.

  “Crawford has moved around a lot. Big cities, mostly. He’s a smooth talker and has associates that range from stock brokers to grifters. Where he falls on that spectrum is unclear, but the man can’t seem to hold on to money. He’s got expensive tastes. As soon as he gets his hands on any cash, he’s spending it on high end liquor, clothes, lodging. There was a brief flirtation with gambling a little over four years ago, but after losing his shirt—literally, according to the security footage I saw—he’s stayed away from that.”

  “Relationships?”

  “Shallow at best. His parents are dead, and he is, as I assume you know, not involved with his son. He’s had no serious relationship with a woman since his divorce, and he occasionally touches base with his ex-wife. Including last night.”

  Trey snapped to attention. “Excuse me?”

  “He cornered her in the parking lot at Tosca, after the rehearsal dinner. She was clearly annoyed by him, trying to convince him not to crash the wedding. The wedding he had no idea was going on until she mentioned it. They argued and Crawford got into her personal space.”

  Trey’s hands fisted, aware of the question Kane wasn’t asking. Why hadn’t he been with his wife? He’d considered trying to mend fences in the name of the wedding. But knowing the steps he’d taken by hiring Kane and that Joseph Burke would be there, he’d decided it would be all around easier on everyone if he gave his regrets and kept himself out of it. But he hadn’t truly thought Waylan would show up.

  When he didn’t fill the silence, the PI continued. “I intervened before the situation could escalate. She was perfectly safe.”

  The band around his chest loosened a fraction. “What about Crawford?”

  “I hung around and trailed him back to his lodgings. An apartment on the east side of town. Looks like an AirBnB rental.”

  Convenience, Trey wondered, or an attempt to stay off-grid?

  “Any idea what he’s really doing here?”

  Kane leaned toward the folio and opened it. “My guess is running from this.”

  Trey read the document. Baltimore Police Department. Known associates. Racketeering. Wanted for questioning.

  “It seems he’s gotten involved with the wrong people,” Kane said mildly. “The FBI has a file on him, BPD is pretty eager to talk to him, and I wager the people they want to talk to him about are just as eager to keep him quiet.”

  Trey had suspected…something. But ties to organized crime hadn’t been it. What kind of danger had Waylan brought with him? “Is there any evidence anyone has tracked him here?”

  “Unclear. It took a fair amount of digging for me to unearth his tracks, and it’s unlikely either BPD or the Scafidi family has my particular skillset in that department. But he has not, historically, been the sharpest knife in the drawer. If he hasn’t slipped up yet, he will.”

  Trey turned back to the window, looking down at the green and all the people. “Where is he now?”

  “He left hi
s car—a rental—parked down past the Baptist Church and was, last I saw, headed into the diner, presumably to acquire information on the location of the wedding, since your wife refused to tell him. Not that it’s hard to guess given the setup going on down there. The whole thing is a tactical nightmare. No way to secure the area, certainly not without alarming the populace. And neither of us has the authority to do that anyway.”

  No. His money could buy all sorts of things, but full control of the town wasn’t one of them. “In your professional opinion, do you think there’s a legitimate threat?”

  Kane didn’t hesitate. “Unlikely. But if Wishful PD were to pick up and detain Crawford until the FBI agents I tipped off last night could get here from Baltimore, I imagine that would earn them considerable goodwill.” He flashed a rare smile. “I still have a few friends.”

  Was this really so simple? And was it the right thing? Waylan had made his metaphoric bed. Was it so wrong to make certain he had to lie in it? This certainly seemed the easiest solution to ensuring he couldn’t crash the wedding.

  Trey picked up the phone and dialed. “I’d like to speak with Chief Greer, please.”

  ~*~

  “God, you look so handsome.” Sandy pinned the red rose boutonniere on Cam’s lapel and just looked at him—her sweet, steady son—tears pricking her eyes. He’d grown into such a good man.

  Never one to miss the subtleties, he cupped his hands beneath her elbows and frowned. “Mom?”

  She sniffed. “Don’t mind me. I’m just having a moment. You were six years old yesterday, and now you’re about to walk down the aisle to marry a wonderful woman and start your life together. I’m a little emotional.” She brushed imaginary lint off his tux jacket shoulders.

  Cam looked to his groomsmen. “Can y’all give us a few minutes?”

  “Sure thing,” Tucker said. He and Brody headed for the door.

  Mitch paused, slapping a hand on Cam’s back. “You’ve got five minutes before you need to head down to the fountain, cuz. Make it quick. If you’re late, I just might marry Norah myself.”