No. Niall’s little boy had died on that fateful day? It was too much for Vic to wrap his mind around at that moment. He wasn’t sure that he ever would be able to—
“Yep. It was in Barrington all right. Niall was there.”
Vic stared at this man who was almost a complete stranger to him. It felt like ice water was being poured down over his head at a trickle but was reaching the inside as well, flowing slowly but steadily both down his skin and straight into his veins at once.
“Niall was there,” he repeated flatly. “On the day that some madman opened fire and killed her four-year-old son along with six other people?”
Evan nodded, obviously enjoying being the one to impart such juicy gossip. “Along with another dozen or so who were wounded. Yeah, Niall saw the whole thing. He fired into a crowd of people—the kids, parents dropping them off, teachers. I don’t know what happened to Niall’s husband after the boy’s murder, but he must have split or—”
“You know, you really shouldn’t talk about things that you haven’t got the vaguest clue about, Evan,” a feminine voice accused abruptly.
Vic’s head swung around. Kendra Phillips stood behind them, a wrathful look on her round face.
“Hi, Kendra. Don’t you look nice today,” Evan greeted her smoothly, taking only a microsecond to compose himself after getting caught spreading rumors like a teenage girl.
“One of Niall’s soldiers,” Evan muttered under his breath to Vic.
The scowl still lingered on Kendra’s usually amiable face when she turned to Vic. “Hey, Vic. Do you mind coming with me for a minute? There’s something I want to discuss with you . . . in private,” Kendra added with a pointed glance at Evan.
Evan shrugged insouciantly and took another draw on his martini. Vic stood and threw a twenty on the bar before he followed Kendra out of the restaurant. Once they were walking down the dimly lit corridors of the museum, she turned and smiled at him apologetically.
“Sorry for dragging you away like that. Evan Forrester is a real pain in the—”
“Yeah, I know,” Vic interrupted impatiently. “But he was telling me more about Niall than anyone else ever has, including Niall. Do you know where she is, by the way?”
Niall wouldn’t attend Matthew Manning’s execution by herself, would she?
Kendra looked startled. “I haven’t talked to her for two weeks, when she called to check in on things. Isn’t she on the farm?”
“She left yesterday. I’ve been looking for her, but she’s not at her loft and she’s not here.”
“Did something happen?” Kendra asked cautiously.
“We had a misunderstanding,” Vic admitted after a few seconds. He sensed Kendra studying him inquisitively. She obviously cared about Niall, and Vic knew that Niall considered her a friend. “Listen, Kendra . . . about what Forrester was saying back there . . .”
Kendra nodded suddenly, as though she’d just made a decision. “Just a second, Vic. There are some things I want to talk to you about,” she said. She went to her desk and unlocked a drawer, then pulled out a set of keys. She tilted her head for Vic to follow her.
Vic realized with vague surprise that Kendra led him back to Niall’s office.
A few seconds later Vic followed her into Niall’s office. The large, comfortable room was warm from lack of airing. Niall’s scent lingered. A pain went through him when he inhaled that singular odor. He suddenly wanted to be gone from there. Niall wasn’t here, and he was wasting his time—
“Sit down, Vic,” Kendra instructed. She sat down in one of the leather chairs in front of Niall’s desk and glanced significantly at the matching chair. When Vic lowered himself hesitantly, part of him wanting to be gone to search for Niall, Kendra reached for one of the frames on Niall’s desk.
“Niall never told me in detail how she felt about you. As you probably know by now, that’s not her style. But I’ve worked with her for years. There was something in her face when she used to talk about you, something in her smile . . . I think she’d forgive me for talking to you about her past, even though she is an incredibly private person,” Kendra said soberly.
Vic didn’t speak, but he’d gone very still when Kendra picked up the picture. He suddenly knew exactly whose photo was in the frame. It struck him as strange that he’d never noticed any mementos of Michael before, but then he recalled how Niall’s residence at Riverview Towers was a temporary one. She’d always said that she’d never unpacked the majority of her personal items.
When he held out his hand, Kendra passed him the photo without comment. Vic stared for several long seconds and abruptly set the frame back on the desk.
“Did she tell you about him?” Kendra asked, still studying his reactions closely.
“She told me that she had a child named Michael who died,” Vic replied hoarsely. The vision remained glued behind his eyelids of that beautiful little boy’s face with Niall’s smile and her big, hazel eyes. “Forrester just told me how he died, though.”
Kendra sighed and sagged back in her chair. “Well, that’s something that she mentioned Michael, that she even said his name, to be honest with you. I guess from your reaction to Forrester, though, she never said anything about Matthew Manning or how her husband, Stephen, went off the deep end during Manning’s trial?”
“What do you mean went off the deep end?”
Kendra grimaced. “I’m not saying it in the figurative sense, Vic. Stephen started drinking heavily after Michael’s murder and eventually vacated the world of reality and moved to an insane one. He’s been there ever since, and as far as I know, he doesn’t appear to have any plans on returning,” Kendra added sarcastically. “Sorry,” she amended after a moment. “I don’t mean to be judgmental against someone who is obviously mentally ill and can’t control his actions, but if you had seen the hell that Niall’s been through . . .” She shook her head.