fingers he had to look away and think about baseball. “Where’d you get the recipe?”
“Uh, Candee. She made it for me once.” He felt himself blush, remembering the circumstances.
“I thought you said the cookware didn’t include benefits.”
“Just forget it, okay?”
“You two,” she said, shaking her head in amusement.
When they finished eating, she wiped her hands on the napkin. “I’ll go get my iPad so we can go over the clues.”
She started to rise, but he caught her hand. “Wait.”
Tara sat, looking at his hand on hers, then at his face, her eyes gleaming, pupils large. “Yes?” she asked breathlessly. She couldn’t possibly think he was going to yank her into his arms and kiss her, could she? Though the idea sounded damn good to him.
But he’d had a point to make. What was it? Oh. “How about you just talk me through it?” He released her hand.
“Sure,” she said, taking a sharp breath. “Yeah. Okay. Let’s see. Where to start?” She tapped her lip. “How about this? Someone broke into my dad’s desk and stole all his files. I think it might be Joseph.”
“Why?”
“I had to ask him for the car insurance agent’s number and he got defensive about it. He warned me not to do anything that might delay the settlement our attorney will be working out with the insurance company. Bodily injury, lost earnings, pain and suffering. It’ll be millions. He got this gleam in his eye about the money. That made me wonder more about the finances at Wharton.”
“What does that have to do with him stealing the files?” Her thought process seemed convoluted to him.
“He’s been handling things for Mom—insurance, our estate attorney, even the clothes for the funeral—so maybe he was afraid something incriminating was in the files.”
“You didn’t accuse him of any of that, did you?”
“No. I’m not an idiot. Well, despite picking a fight with Fallon and harassing Jim Crowley at a birthday party.” She smiled ruefully. “I simply asked if he’d seen them and he got excessively defensive.”
“You’re not thinking Joseph had something to do with the accident, are you?” That would be way over the top.
“No. But something’s up with him, for sure. I’ll see what I can find out when I’m at Wharton.”
“What are you going to do at Wharton?”
“Investigate a little, but mostly help out.” She pushed her plate forward and back, frowning, thinking hard, abruptly upset. She lifted her gaze to his. “Faye wanted to hire me. She called a few weeks ago and said she’d like my perspective on the transition Wharton’s going through.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She steadied her gaze on him, regret clouding the clear blue of her eyes. “But I didn’t take her seriously. I joked about Joseph being too cheap to pay my fees. I totally blew it. I should have dropped everything and come out. Maybe if I had...”
“What? You think you could have prevented the accident?”
Tara shrugged. “Faye started seeing a shrink around the time she called me. She was taking pills for depression and anxiety. She was worried, Dylan. Really worried. But I didn’t pick up on that. I let her down.”
He stayed quiet, knowing there was more she had to get out.
“Faye was always there for me. Always.” She swallowed. “And what did I do? I harassed her for trying to please our father instead of going to art school. I told her marrying Joseph was a mistake. Who does that to someone they love?” She looked so anguished he had to intervene.
“Someone with strong opinions and big feelings.”
“You mean a spoiled brat? Don’t you dare pity me. You’re supposed to give me hell.” She gave a twisted smile. “I can’t stop thinking that the last talk I had with Faye was her begging for my help and me blowing her off. Why didn’t I listen? That’s one of my strengths with clients. Faye is the dearest person in my life and I barely paid attention.”
“She wouldn’t see it that way.”
“That’s because she’s too kind.” Tara grimaced, then grabbed her neck, so he knew her muscles had gone tight.
“You’re knotting up.” He moved his chair beside her and motioned for her to turn so he could rub her shoulders. He gripped the muscles at the base of her neck. They twisted like snarled rope under his fingers.
“You haven’t lost your touch,” she breathed, relaxing under his hands.
He focused on easing the knots, not how right it felt to be touching her again, how much he wished he weren’t so damn adult, that