not to look at Kyle. I was embarrassed for asking about Adam at all. I didn’t care.
I. Did. Not. Care.
You keep telling yourself that, kid.
“I get that. Sorry,” I muttered.
Kyle cleared his throat, feeling the awkwardness as much as I was. “So. Um. How’s Whit these days? Your mom says she’s in Paris?”Kyle was about as subtle as a kick to the groin.
It was my turn to flip the tables. “I don’t make it a habit to gossip about my sister, Kyle.”
He laughed, easing the weird tension that the mention of Adam had created. “Touché, Galloway.” He reached out to give me a one-armed hug. “I’d better get going, but it’s great seeing you. Don’t be a stranger. I’m still over on Walnut Street. I took over the house when my parents decided to retire to Florida. I’ve got a kick-ass smoker in the backyard. I’ll make ya some brisket.”
“I’d like that. Just let me know when you want me. Maybe I’ll give Skylar a call. Make it a reunion of sorts.”I walked Kyle to the front door, following him out into the late evening sun. The street was quiet. I thought I’d hate the silence, but actually, it was sort of peaceful.
Kyle unlocked his truck and climbed up into the cab, sticking his head out the window as he started the loud engine. “Kinda hard to have a reunion if you don’t include all the players, am I right?” He gave me a stern look. “It’d be nice to have the whole gang together again. As in everyone.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I don’t know, Web. One thing at a time. I just got into town.” I laughed, but it wasn’t very convincing.
“And it’s a small town too, Galloway. Don’t forget that.” He revved his engine, and with a wave, pulled out of the driveway into the street.
It’s a small town, Galloway.
“As if I could ever forget it,” I murmured, watching my friend drive away.
Chapter 5
Adam
I didn’t have time to get a shower before heading to my parents’. I had spent the afternoon playing eighteen holes with Rob at the course in Burlington over an hour away. I barely had time to get home, change into a pair of khaki shorts and a clean T-shirt. I splashed my face with cold water and rinsed my pits before dousing myself down with body spray and hoped it was enough to pass the eagle-eyed scrutiny of Marion Ducate.
Rob and I often used golf as a way to process our cases. He and I were two of the same—dedicated to our work. Rob was a crusader for change. It was one of the things I had always admired about him. His arguments in the courtroom were legendary. He could fire up a jury better than any attorney I had ever witnessed, and he was damn smart too. One of the most intelligent people I have ever met. When I was having a particularly tough time with a case, he was typically the first person I turned to for advice or to bounce ideas off.
I ended up having a hell of a week, topped off with a continuance on what I thought would be an open and shut assault and battery case. Judge Radner had been in a particularly pissy mood and had taken it out on me. Dick Radner had never been a fan of mine, not since I was caught tee-peeing his house when I was in the seventh grade.
Kyle and a few of the other guys on our parks and rec basketball team thought it would be a great idea to do some low-key vandalism. We had draped half the block in pink tissue before Judge Radner turned on the floodlights. Kyle and the others ran off, and I was left literally holding the bag.
He hadn’t been amused and threatened to call the cops. But after my rather embarrassing, snot-filled blubbering plea, he opted to call my dad, instead. I was grounded for a month and made to single-handedly clean up every scrap of toilet paper from the street.
Kyle, feeling guilty for bailing, helped me out.
But Judge Radner had labeled me a troublemaker ever since, even after going to law school and returning to my hometown to start my own practice. Once Dick Radner made up his mind about someone, it was damn near impossible to change it.
The thing about Southport was that memories were long and grudges even longer.