“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.