have a son graduating from high school, much less the academy. The woman was obviously not his mother, going by the introduction and subsequent interaction. He obviously hadn’t expected them to attend the graduation ceremony. And the most obvious thing of all? Their surprise appearance was not a welcome one for Swain.
Judging strictly by the visible evidence, Daddy Swain did pretty well. Maybe Marc didn’t want people knowing he came from money? Whatever the reason, it was clear from every rigid line of his body that his answer to the unexpected invitation remained a hard no. He wanted them gone as quickly and quietly as possible. It was equally clear to Eden that, much like her own father, Swain Sr. wasn’t used to taking no for an answer and didn’t do quick and quiet unless it suited him.
Perhaps compassion for what she perceived as a shared personal burden got the better of her, but without stopping to think, she peeled away from her group and waved to Swain. “Hey. There you are.” The sun bounced off the dark lenses of his glasses as he turned his head her way. His expression remained unreadable. Still, she’d decided to throw him a lifeline. He could take it or leave it. “We’re about to head out. Are you ready?”
For a good five seconds, he simply stood there, staring at her, or past her, or through her. It was hard to tell with the glasses. Then his lips curved into a ghost of a smile. “Almost. Give me one sec.”
“Is this one of your classmates?” the older man asked, coming closer. Eden heard a New Orleans clip in his southern accent.
“I’m one of her classmates,” Swain said without a hint of irony. “Cadet Brixton set the curve. The rest of us just tried to keep up.”
“Really?” He raised his brows as if impressed. “Congratulations. I gotta say, law enforcement officers have gotten a lot prettier since the last time I had me a ticket.”
“Gosh, thanks. Were it not for the personal presentation portion of the training, who knows how I would have made the grade?” Extending her hand, she added, “You must be Marc’s father.”
Beside her, Swain laughed in a way that acknowledged the insult. “Eden Brixton, Gerome Swain.”
“Romy,” his father corrected, shaking her hand. “Pleasure to meet you. This lovely lady”—he turned to the willowy brunette with artful blond highlights—“is my fiancée, Suzannah.”
At close range, Eden could see that the woman, though meticulously maintained, was closer to sixty than thirty. The paraffin-soft hand she shook boasted a sapphire cocktail ring large enough to choke a horse, plus at least three carats, total weight, in stacked diamond bands. They exchanged “Nice to meet you”s before Romy explained, “Suzie and I came off an absolutely amazing trip to this fantastic place she keeps in Positano, and I find out my only child is graduating from the police academy. Naturally, we jumped in the car and hightailed it up here to congratulate him. I promised my betrothed lunch at Cardinal Hill,” he went on, naming one of the area’s most exclusive country clubs. “Now I’m working on convincing Marc to let us make it a party. Maybe you’d join us as well, Eden?”
“I’d love to, but I can’t. Neither of us can, actually.” She glanced at Swain, then over to where her parents stood in the shade of a red maple, chatting with Shaun and Ginny. “We have a prior commitment. It was really nice to meet you, though.”
“Same,” Romy responded smoothly and offered up a faster, slicker version of the smile he’d passed along to his son. To Marc, he said, “Call me when you get settled.” He eased his arm around his fiancée’s shoulders again. “Suzie and I are about to close on a gorgeous little cottage just off Lakeshore Drive. We’ll have you down for a long weekend, so we can spend some time together before the wedding. I’m sure we can find you a comfy spot in one of the eight bedrooms.”
Marc made a very noncommittal sound. “The County Sheriff’s Department has dibs on my time for the next little while. Good luck with the close. Y’all should have a good real estate lawyer look the deal over. My criminal investigations class detailed all kinds of fraud a lowlife scum can commit under the guise of a legitimate transaction.”
Suzie nudged Romy. “That’s exactly what Annabeth said! And she knows a thing or two about real estate.”
Romy shot his son an odd look