To Love and to Perish - By Lisa Bork Page 0,81

two people’s deaths. Even though we’d been in the pursuit of truth, the fact never got less painful.

“That’s a good idea.” Ray hit the left-hand turn signal, waited for an oncoming car, then made his turn.

“Cory said Beth’s parents were heartbroken at the funeral. Her mother couldn’t stop sobbing, and the doctor had apparently given her a tranquilizer.”

“They went through a lot with her, only to have her throw it all away.”

My secret fear was that could happen to even the most attentive and loving parents. “Well, at least Brennan and Matthew will have each other.”

“Matthew’s an adult. He doesn’t need a father anymore.”

“Then maybe they can be friends. That would be just as nice, wouldn’t it?”

“Sure.”

I glanced over my shoulder into the back seat. Danny’s eyes were closed, listening to the iPod. He didn’t seem to hear our conversation. “Danny’s been awfully quiet since he got home today. Did anything happen when he visited his dad?”

Ray glanced in the rearview mirror. “His dad has a black eye.”

“How did he get it?”

“He won’t say. I’m sure one of the other prisoners hit him.”

Frustration boiled in me. “Can’t you guys keep him safe? It’s the county jail. You work for the county.”

Ray frowned. “The guards do what they can, Jolene. They don’t have the manpower to watch him every second. He might get roughed up a little.”

“And you don’t care. He could get killed.”

Ray checked the mirror again. “I care, but I can’t control the situation.”

“We could pay Mr. Phillips’ bail and get him out of there.”

“And he might take off with Danny, especially now that he’s had a taste of jail again. Do you want to take that chance?”

I couldn’t answer Ray—because I didn’t know. Mr. Phillips had entrusted his son to us. Had his faith in our abilities changed? His situation certainly hadn’t. He was still a homeless car thief, as far as we knew. Danny was a well-behaved seventh grader with good marks who played on the football team. He couldn’t have any of that if his dad took him away. Mr. Phillips had made it clear Danny’s education was important to him when he stole my Ferrari to start Danny’s college fund—or so he said. Would he sacrifice his own needs for Danny’s?

Forty-five minutes later, I still didn’t have an answer when we pulled into the parking lot for the party house, which was so full Ray almost gave up and went home. He finally found one remaining spot at the far side of the parking lot.

We slid out of the car and headed toward the brightly lit portico.

Inside the lobby we left our coats with the attendant and entered the party room.

A wave of heat hit me in the face. Guests dressed in all their finery filled the room as bow-tied, white-shirted waitresses roamed, offering hors d’oeuvres and flutes of champagne. A band dressed in navy tuxedos played jazz softly. White Christmas lights glittered on topiaries placed strategically around the room, and magnificent bouquets of fall flowers graced every table, set off by flickering vanilla scented candles.

Jack must have invited every person he and Isabelle knew. I didn’t see either of them anywhere, but Jack’s brother stood on a dais, speaking into a whining microphone that pierced my eardrums.

“Everybody, can I have it quiet please?”

All the heads in the room turned toward him.

“Jack just texted. They’ll be here in a few minutes. We’d like everyone to form a line around the perimeter of the room. Then we’ll dim the lights. When they walk in, we’ll all yell ‘Happy Anniversary,’ okay?”

Everyone started to jockey for position around the perimeter. Since we were still in the doorway, we only had to move a few steps to stay close to the entrance yet out of the way.

The lights dimmed. We waited.

And waited.

A few people giggled nervously. Some started to whisper.

A man by the window called out, “They’re here. Shush.”

Moments later the doors flew open. The lights went up.

Isabelle stood in the doorway on Jack’s arm, wearing a stunning red satin dress with matching shoes and a diamond necklace that caught the light. Her eyes bugged out when we yelled.

A tentative smile—then a broader one lit up her face and spread to her eyes. She fanned herself with her clutch as her gaze moved around the room.

Jack, looking dapper in a black tuxedo, unhooked his arm from hers and stepped to the side. “Surprise, honey. Happy anniversary.”

Tears glittered in the corners of Isabelle’s eyes. She shook her head in wonder