Agnes because it was a reminder of her past and how no one stayed the same. Every time she looked at it she appreciated just how far she had come and what she had lost along the way.
Even without the print, Lucien was never far from her thoughts. She had looked into the man who had come to see her, even recruited Sister Margaret’s help, but they were never able to figure out who he was. He definitely had someone on the inside of St. Agnes who had gotten him in under the radar so that there was no record of him ever being there.
When Darcy had found herself in need of a job after leaving Sookie’s, she had given specific instructions to her headhunter that if a job became available in any of Lucien Black’s organizations, that she wanted to know of it. It had been fanciful and, she realized after the reality of their disastrous reunion, foolish, but she had hoped that he would recognize her name and they would take up where they left off. He hadn’t recognized her name, though; he hadn’t remembered her at all. And that reality was unimaginably painful.
Lucien returned his sax to its case. The jam session had helped keep his mind occupied, but now thoughts of her crowded out everything else. He thought about getting drunk, but that would only be effective if he stayed drunk, and becoming an alcoholic was not on his bucket list. When he heard his name, he was relieved to have the distraction. He turned to see Kyle walking toward him.
He and Kyle shared a love of music and, after Ember had introduced them, they often found themselves at the same clubs, jamming. Lucien had no delusions about his skill and played only as an escape, but Kyle and his band were a different story. They had the kind of stage presence that sucked an audience in. It was a crime that they were only playing the small venues that they were.
“That was amazing,” Kyle said in way of greeting.
“Thanks. Have you played?”
“I’m up later. You want to get a drink?”
“Yeah,” Lucien replied.
Halfway to the bar, Kyle stopped abruptly, which made Lucien look in the direction that he was staring.
“Kyle?”
“What the hell is he doing here?”
“Who is that?” Lucien asked.
“Todd Samuels. An acquaintance of Ember’s.”
“Ah, the gambler. There’s a back room here, poker mostly.”
Kyle responded by shaking his head in disgust before he continued on to the bar. “Two beers,” he called to the bartender.
“So how’s the music? Getting any new gigs?” Lucien asked.
“Yeah, we have a few more, but we still aren’t at the stage where I can give up my bartending job and focus completely on the music. We’re working on it, though.”
Lucien studied the other man for a minute. He knew how hard it was to get a break; even talented musicians like Kyle struggled for that one gig that could change everything. Someone once gave him a nudge in the right direction, and it was time for him to pay that forward. “I have some friends in the industry. I could give them a call.”
“Are you serious?”
“Absolutely.”
“Man, that would be awesome. Anytime and anywhere. We’ll drop everything for the chance.” Kyle’s excitement was almost palpable.
“Let me see what I can do.”
A ruckus broke out in the back of the place. Lucien turned to see Todd being physically removed from the club.
Kyle had noticed Todd too. “What the hell was that all about?”
“My guess—he was caught cheating. He must be pretty desperate to take the risk of cheating these card sharks,” Lucien added almost absently.
Kyle replied to that with a snort. “He made his bed.”
The heat of the summer sun never seemed to warm this place. Nature continually attempted to reclaim the stone paths that guided visitors through the maze of stone memorials. Lucien walked in long, unhurried strides through the overgrown tangles. The small stone angel was centered in a colorful garden—each season the plants reflected the time of year. He didn’t know who planted the garden and kept it, probably someone from St. Agnes, but he knew that Sister Anne would really have appreciated it.
He knelt down in front of her grave and rested his hand on the base of the angel where only four words were carved into the stone, “Gone, but not forgotten.” She hadn’t wanted a tombstone at all. She’d said the money should be used for the children. He’d wanted to honor her request, but he had