Dad came into Jay’s kitchen and refilled his mug with coffee while Sophie loaded the dishwasher with their brunch dishes. “Want some?” Dad held the carafe in her direction.
“Sure.” She pushed down her sweater sleeves and picked up her near-empty cup so he could pour.
A cheer sounded from the living room, where Matt and Jay watched the Patriot’s game while her sister-in-law, nephew, and Tia played Scrabble in the dining room.
“You and Jay okay?” Dad lifted his thick white brows. Today he’d worn his navy Patriot’s jersey, which made his broad chest seem even wider. “You both seemed quiet.”
“Just a small issue. Everything is fine now.”
She’d phoned Jay right after Duncan left yesterday. He’d apologized right away. Apologies were his kryptonite, so one offered quickly had to be sincere.
He stirred sugar into his coffee. “Nothing like one of Jay’s brunches, huh? Thank God someone paid attention to Mom’s cooking tips.”
“No chance that was going to be me.” She paused. “Mind if I ask you a personal question?”
“I suppose.” He poured a dollop of half-and-half then offered her some.
She took the container. “Remember when Mom used to share the story of how you two met?”
His mouth crumpled. “Of course I do.”
“How come you were so quiet whenever she brought it up?”
He shrugged. “What more could I add?” His gaze averted to the avocado refrigerator in Jay’s dated kitchen, where a few years back he’d spent a small windfall on a used twenty-year-old gas-powered Viking stove but ignored his wife’s request they replace the other appliances first. “Guys don’t talk about that stuff, honey.”
She poured and put down the container. “You felt the same way as her, right?”
“I sure did. The first time I saw your mother, she took my breath away.” Tenderness radiated from his voice. “Whenever she shared the story about those bells ringing, I liked to tease that she needed to get her hearing checked.”
Sophie warmed. Her mother would act annoyed over the remarks but had never seemed to be too upset.
Dad took a slow sip of coffee. “I never told her, but I swore I heard them too.”
She reached out and squeezed his forearm. Over twenty years had passed since Sophie’s mother died, but his deep love for her stood strong.
He stared into his mug. “I suppose I should’ve said something. Guess I did, in my own way.” He looked up. “Men are different. Words don’t come easy to us.”
“What?” She blurted a laugh. “When I was a kid, you had plenty to say to me. Jeesh, seemed like Ann Landers raised me some days.”
“Then how’d I raise such a smart-alec?” He grinned. “You know what I mean. We show how we feel. Gifts or small gestures.”
Friday night, Duncan had arrived with those beautiful flowers. Saturday morning, she’d come downstairs to a set breakfast table. At her napkin, a little smiling heart key chain had been propped against the plate, which lit bright when squeezed. A tender smile had crossed his lips as she attached the token to her keys right away.
She sighed. “All right. That helps, I think.”
Dad’s light brows lifted. “Who’s the lucky guy?”
“Duncan Jamieson.”
Dad gave a noncommittal head-bob. “He’s a nice man, honey. Even though Jay has his knickers in a bundle over the land issue, you’re more sensible than your brother. Go with your heart. You deserve to this time.”
Jay walked in wearing the long-sleeved T-shirt his wife had given him this past Christmas with a chubby, mustached cartoon chef and the words Never Trust a Skinny Chef above his head.
“Dad, you missed a great play.” He looked between them. “What’s going on?”
“We’re discussing how lucky we are Mom taught you to cook.” He cast Sophie a conspiratorial grin on his way out and patted Jay on the shoulder. “Great brunch, Son. Back to the game.”
Sophie returned to the dishwasher task, adding a few more glasses to the top.
Jay plunked his mug in the sink she’d cleared. “What were you really discussing?”
Sophie pointed to the mug then cast Jay the same disbelieving look she’d have given her kids as she motioned to the dishwasher.
“Oops. Sorry.” He stuck the mug in the top rack. “So, the real topic?”
“Love.”
He wrinkled his nose, opened the refrigerator, and removed the bowl of fruit she’d just put away. “Then he knew about you and Duncan?”
“He does now.”
Jay put the bowl on the counter and removed the plastic wrap. “Are you guys that serious?”
“Maybe.”
Jay’s lips pulled into a thin line. “Hmm.”
“Hey.” She tossed a dishtowel at him. “We okay?”
Jay reacted fast and caught it with one hand. “Yeah. Eileen told me I made a big deal out of nothing and you had your reasons for not telling me about the offer. I’d stopped in yesterday morning to tell you something else, though.” He plopped the towel near the sink and dropped his voice. “Remember when I said I’d contact my high school buddy Andy Murray? He used to work at the Northbridge police station?”
“Yeah.” Dread wormed through her. She’d hoped he’d forgotten the request.
He took a cereal-sized bowl from the cabinet. “Andy is living in and working outside of Hartford. Anyway, we met for lunch Friday. I asked if he remembered anything about the gunshot at Buzz’s house. Turns out your instincts are right. The incident involved the Jamiesons. Did you know Duncan has a brother named Trent who’s adopted?”
“Uh-huh.”
“How’d you—” He waved a hand. “Never mind. So you probably know there might be another reason the Jamiesons have returned to Northbridge.”
Even though Duncan had told her plenty, years of interviews had taught her to wait to hear what others said first, sometimes not what she expected. “What’d you find out?”
“The gunshot in the article happened when Trent Jamieson paid a visit to Buzz and Marion’s house. Andy told me a neighbor reported she saw Trent running from Buzz’s house right after a gun went off. She called the cops. A little later, they found Trent downtown hanging out with some kids and took him into the station.”
This confirmed the old dispatcher’s story. “Did Andy know why Trent showed up there?”
“He said the guy wanted to find out the truth about his birth parents.”
“So he went to them?”
“Have I out-scooped the ‘queen of the scoop’?” Jay smirked with too much glee.
“Come on! Don’t torment me.”
His grin disappeared. “Get this… Marion Harris is Trent’s real mother.”
Marion’s strong reaction when Sophie had uncovered the newspaper story and spoken to Buzz took on new meaning. In the hallway at the December zoning board meeting, she’d had that strange, almost fearful, reaction to Duncan, too. An uncomfortable wave rushed at Sophie. At the bowling alley, when he’d mentioned Trent was adopted, her question about Trent’s birth mother had been quickly glossed over.
She leaned against the counter and crossed her arms. “Are you positive?”
“You want me to do blood work? No, I’m not. I’m repeating what Andy said.”
“Sure explains a lot.”
Jay’s eyes opened wide. “Like what?”
“Between us, okay?” Sophie raised a warning finger. “I’ve never been more serious.”
He nodded.
“Duncan’s purchase of the Tates’ land wasn’t only for the resort. Elmer Tate is Trent’s birth father. So he’s kind of the de facto heir to the land.”
Jay’s lips pursed. “Did Duncan tell you that?”
“Of course.”
“I’m not sure it’s true.”
“Why?”
“Andy said Trent went there to ask Marion the identity of his father.”
“So what? Maybe he didn’t know Elmer was his dad in those days.”
“At the station, Trent confessed he believed Marion had lied about his real father. Claimed the birth certificate wasn’t true. He refused to leave their house until Marion told him the truth. When Buzz got home, he pulled the gun to make him leave.” Jay shook his head and his short ponytail bobbed. “Freaking Buzz is crazy. Anyway, Trent went to grab the gun and a shot fired. Luckily, nobody got hurt.”
“Did Andy say who else Trent might have believed to be his dad?”
“That’s the real rub. You won’t like this.”
A sick feeling settled in Sophie’s stomach. The problem with snooping was sometimes she got answers.