Letters from Peaceful Lane (New Americana 3)

“All right. You can trust me.”

In the simplest terms possible, Allison told Brianna about the Edgeway Group, their Mob connection, and why Burke was refusing to sign with them. She left out her suspicions about Garrett. There was too much risk that Brianna wouldn’t believe her, or worse, that she would warn the man she thought of as a friend.

“So how does my dad plan to save the theater?” Brianna asked.

“He’s working on a bank loan for enough to repay the short-term loan and remodel the theater. But we’re talking a lot of money. If the bank agrees, he’ll need to put up collateral—amounting to almost all the property he owns. Do you understand?”

“I’m not stupid. I know what collateral is. If he can’t pay the money back, he’ll lose everything. That’s why you’re saying I can’t have a new convertible.”

“Right. Then there’s that bad decision you made tonight. Lawyers don’t come cheap, and you’re going to need one.”

Brianna gazed down at her hands, saying nothing. Allison was about to start her car and pull away when she spoke again.

“What about school? That costs money, too.”

“School’s important,” Allison said. “It’s a lot more important than a car. I know your father will do everything he can to keep you at Northwestern—and if the money becomes an issue, you can always get a job or take out a student loan. There’s just one problem. The court may not allow you to leave the state until your DUI case is resolved—and not even then if you’re on probation.”

“No! That’s not fair! I wasn’t even drunk!”

“I’m sorry, Brianna. But fair or not, I’m not the one who made the laws.” Allison felt genuine pity for the girl.

“But Northwestern has one of the best journalism programs in the country!” Brianna argued. “I was lucky to get in. And if I have to drop out, they might not let me come back. I’m talking about my future—my career!”

And her boyfriend, Allison thought as she turned the car around and headed back to the main road. Brianna had made a youthful mistake and been unlucky enough to get caught. The consequences could change the course of her life. But all Allison could do was get the girl a good lawyer and hope for the best. Burke had suggested she contact Gentry and Smith about the divorce—something she had no intention of doing. But maybe they could help Brianna. She would call them in the morning.

Brianna was crying again, weeping quietly in the shadowed passenger seat. With nothing left to say to her, Allison drove on toward Peaceful Lane and home.

* * *

Back in her childhood room, Brianna wheeled her suitcase into a corner, fished her phone out of her purse, and collapsed on the bed. She had cried her eyes out in Allison’s car. But she was still hurting. How could she have been so careless—and so unlucky?

One of her friends had brought a couple six-packs of beer to the party. Laughing and talking with her old schoolmates, Brianna had lost track of how much beer she’d drunk, but she certainly hadn’t been impaired. Certainly she could drive home.

Blast that crappy Crown Victoria. Its broken taillight had turned a simple lapse in judgment into the worst mistake of her life!

Lying back on the bed, she used her phone to call the one person she needed most.

“Brianna?” Liam sounded muzzy from sleep. She pictured his tawny hair tangled on the pillow, his blue eyes barely open beneath thick, golden lashes. What she wouldn’t give to lose herself in his arms and drown her senses in his warmth and in the clean, leather aroma of his skin. The longing stabbed her, triggering a fresh surge of tears.

“Brianna, are you all right?”

“I’m . . . fine,” she muttered.

“You’re not fine. I can tell you’re crying,” he said. “What’s wrong? Is it your dad?”

“My dad’s in the hospital, getting better. It’s just—” She broke down. “Oh, Liam, I’ve made such a mess of things!”

Little by little she told him what was going on, leaving out nothing. She and Liam had no secrets from each other.

She finished and waited for his response. For the space of a breath he was silent. Was he going to berate her, or worse, hang up and never speak to her again?

When he spoke, his voice was almost gentle. “Brianna, remember when I told you how I was in a teenage gang? We did some pretty stupid stuff—shoplifting, vandalism, beating up kids we didn’t like. I’ve smoked pot. I’ve been in court, and I’ll probably be going to AA meetings for the rest of my life. Hell, I’ve served time in jail, more than once. You know that. And you know that I was about your age when I decided to turn my life around.”

“Yes, I know all that. Why are you bringing it up now?”

“Because you’ve just made a mistake. But I’ve learned that one mistake isn’t the end of the road. It might cost you some time and cause you some pain, but you’ll survive this. We’ll survive this and move on.”

“Even if my dad loses everything he owns? Even if I have to drop out of Northwestern and they won’t let me back in?”