“Whoa, slow down. One step at a time.” He steepled his fingers together and frowned. “Let’s figure out a plan.”
She felt a small beat of panic even as she nodded. I’m not ready, she thought. I can’t do this. Then she reminded herself that these were Crystal’s children. It didn’t matter how ill equipped she felt for the disaster. “I can stay through the weekend,” she said slowly. “I’ll take next week off from work to be with the children.” She studied his face, his troubled eyes. “Are you all right with that?”
“I…yeah, thanks. For now, we’ll go with that plan.” He glanced toward the stairway. “Sleeping arrangements?”
“I’ll take the guest room,” she said swiftly. She couldn’t possibly sleep in Crystal’s bed.
He looked at the stack of publications the social worker had left for them to go through—Growing Strong, Grief Counseling for Children, Adjusting to Foster Care, Tips for Transitions. They were the sort of things Lily saw in the faculty lounge or professional library at school, and until now, they’d always seemed remote and theoretical. Now the very titles frightened her.
“I wonder, um…” Sean paused and swallowed. “Maybe you could help me with her room.”
Lily knew exactly what he was asking. “Let’s change the sheets and clear out a space in the closet. I know where she keeps everything.”
His expression softened with gratitude. Lily went through the motions like a robot, getting fresh sheets from the linen closet and making up the bed. There was a curious, discomfiting domesticity to the situation and she hurried through the motions. Then she filled a big tapestry suitcase with dresses and scarves, skirts and blazers and shoes. She worked swiftly, trying not to think about what she was actually doing—putting these things away because Crystal was dead. As she zipped it up, she noticed the luggage tag, Handle With Care.
“Just put it up on the shelf for now,” she told Sean. “It’s much too early to—” She cleared her throat. “We’re not getting rid of anything for a while.”
“Fine with me.” His phone rang and he stepped aside to answer it.
Lily finished up in the closet, surrounded by the familiar scent of Crystal’s perfume. The packed suitcase made it easy to imagine that Crystal wasn’t dead, but merely away on a trip.
She picked up a book from the bedside table. Sins of the Father by Gail Goodman. The page was marked with a business card with the Laurelhurst School logo. It was a card for Greg Duncan, the PE teacher and golf coach. Lily flipped the book open. Crystal had been right in the middle of the novel. She’d never know how it ended.
Sean flipped his phone shut. “Derek’s agent is coming in. He caught a plane from L.A. as soon as I called him,” Sean said. “He takes care of all of Derek’s business.”
Will he take care of his kids? Lily knew she didn’t need to ask that.
“His name is Red Corliss,” Sean continued. “He, uh, he scheduled a press conference.”
“A press conference?” Lily was incredulous. “Tell me you’re joking.”
“I don’t like the idea, either,” Sean said, “but Red knows what he’s doing. He says that way we can control the information, and if we’re lucky, get the press to keep their distance.”
She shuddered at the very idea of announcing Crystal’s death as though she’d won another pageant. Turning to Sean, she searched his face, feeling a curious and unexpected intimacy with this stranger. They’d known each other less than twenty-four hours, yet there was a terrible connection between them, forged of the unthinkable.
“Do you know how much I hate this?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “I do.”
chapter 18
Saturday
3:20 p.m.
Red Corliss steamed into town like a freight train, shouting into a cell phone while issuing orders as he cut a swath through everything in his path. When Sean was younger and a client of Red’s, he’d been a little in awe of the sports agent’s aggressiveness and his brusque manner. Now, a dozen years later, he saw Red for what he was, an ambitious, confident professional whose attitude masked an unexpectedly tender heart.
Within a short while, Red had somehow managed to round up the key players and assemble them at Echo Ridge, Derek’s home course. An hour later, Red arrived at Crystal’s house.
“How’d it go?” Sean asked, holding the door for him.
“It went. I gave them the facts, released the statement we drew up, told them to respect the family’s privacy, yada yada yada. They’ll make of it what