The years had given him something else as well—the rare, invisible aura of quiet, inner power that was the hallmark of a man in full control of himself.
He did, however, look considerably the worse for wear around the edges. She had a feeling he’d learned the hard way what every professional guardian angel probably had to learn—that you couldn’t save everyone. For a man as determined and unyielding as Mason, that would have been one very tough lesson.
In spite of her irritation, she felt herself softening. It was hard to stay mad at a man who was born to do the right thing when the chips were down. He really couldn’t help it, she thought. He was what he was, and there was probably no force on the face of the planet that could change that.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” she said. “Just to clarify, Aunt Sara did not want me to come back here after that last summer. In fact, she didn’t want anyone in the family to visit her in Summer River. We respected her wishes. And while I certainly don’t owe you any explanations, I can assure you that I saw a lot of her. She and Mary stayed with me several times each year. Sara knew that I find the holidays stressful, so she made sure to spend them with me. After she and Mary sold the antiques shop, I joined them on some of their cruises. I can assure you that Sara was not neglected in any way.” Lucy took a breath. “I loved her. And I loved Mary, too, because she loved Sara and Sara loved her. There. Satisfied?”
Mason had the grace to look apologetic. “Didn’t mean to imply you had neglected your aunt.”
She gave him her best fake bright smile. “Of course you did.”
His jaw hardened. “I understand that family dynamics can be complicated.”
“No kidding. Especially when viewed from the outside.”
Mason exhaled slowly. “Okay, you’ve made your point. I liked Sara. Mary, too. I was sorry to hear that they had been killed.”
“Thank you,” Lucy said. She hesitated, wondering if it was too soon to probe for answers.
“I suppose you heard it was a car accident?” she said.
“Yes. It’s always a shock. Aaron and I lost our parents in a car accident.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“It’s been a long time,” he said.
“Doesn’t mean it didn’t happen and that it didn’t leave some major wounds. You heal from wounds, if you’re lucky, but there are always scars.”
He looked as if the simple observation had caught him off guard. She got the feeling he was unsure how to respond.
“No,” he agreed finally. “Doesn’t mean there aren’t scars.”
She tightened her grip on the straps of the black tote she had slung over her shoulder. “Were you here in town when my aunt and Mary . . . ?”
“No, I arrived a couple of weeks ago. I’m taking some time off from work.” He eyed her with sudden, sharp curiosity. “Why?”
“Nothing. Just wondered.” She felt a little deflated. If Mason had been in town at the time of the accident, he probably would have asked any questions that needed to be asked. He had been a cop, after all. But he had not been in Summer River when Sara and Mary died. He didn’t know any more than she did. “Sara told me that you and your brother run a security consulting firm back in D.C.”
He looked first surprised and then amused. “Sara kept you informed of my whereabouts?”
“I gather that from time to time your uncle told her what was going on with you and your brother.” Lucy smiled. “Sara said he is very proud of both of you.”
“Deke and I always knew that Aaron would do something to change the world,” Mason said. “He wound up with degrees in math and computer science.”
“Impressive. What, exactly, do you and Aaron do as consultants?”
He gave her what was no doubt meant to be a charming consultant’s smile. “We consult.”
“Yeah, I get that. And for the record, the I’m-a-consultant-and-I’m-here-to-help smile needs an upgrade.”
Mason stopped smiling. “I’ll work on it.”
“I’m serious,” she said. “Who do you consult for?”
“We specialize in closing cold cases. Our clients are mostly small-town police departments that lack the expertise, the technology and the manpower to handle major crimes that have gone stone cold.”
“Do you go out into the field to investigate?”
“Sometimes. But our primary asset is a proprietary computer program we named Alice. Aaron created it to help identify patterns in an old case. If we can find a pattern, we’ve got a shot at helping the cops track down the perps.”
“Sounds exciting.”
“I’m not a cop anymore, I’m a consultant,” he said coolly. “I don’t see much action.”
He probably wasn’t lying, she decided. But he wasn’t telling her the whole truth, either.
“What can I do for you today?” Mason continued. “I assume you came in here to pick up some of the things you need to get your aunt’s house ready for the market?”
Whoa. Talk about hitting a stone wall, Lucy thought. Mason definitely wanted to change the topic of conversation.
“Actually, I stopped in to get some advice about local contractors from your uncle. I wasn’t sure who else to ask. I know Sara trusted Deke when it came to that sort of thing.”
“I can ask him for some names when he gets back. What kind of work are you thinking of doing?”
“The big-ticket item is the kitchen. It’s badly outdated. Dad says that bringing it up to date will add a few thousand to the value of the house.”
“He’s right,” Mason said. “Is your dad still a professor?”
“Yes. He’s head of the sociology department at the college where he teaches.”
“And your mother?”
“She’s still teaching psychology.”
Mason put the wrench down on the counter. “Both your folks remarried, didn’t they?”
“Yes,” she said, making the word very crisp. “About that contractor. I’ve got a limited budget.”
“Right.” Mason reached for a pad of paper. He pulled it close and picked up a pen. “Okay, you want someone who can update the kitchen without spending a fortune. Anything else?
“The outside needs painting.”
“That’s another major job.” Mason wrote a note on the pad of paper and then looked up. “You’re starting to talk big bucks here. I’m not sure it’s worth it, to tell you the truth.”