Page 111 of The Woman Left Behind

He abruptly stopped talking.

But fucking hell, Harry got where this was coming from, and he felt him.

“You can still be there for her,” Harry advised. “The services are Saturday. Come to them. It’ll mean a lot.”

Storm looked to his shoes and muttered, “Yeah.”

Harry gave him some time.

Stormy took it, then, still muttering, “Angelica did me so fucking dirty, got the best thing in the world out of it, but until I heard about you and Lillian, heard what happened to her parents, I didn’t realize the number she did on my head.” He turned again to the window. “You don’t want to hear this, but fuck me, I didn’t think I could get more pissed at Angelica, but I am, since, because of her, I didn’t recognize what I had with Lill, and now I’m out.”

He was so totally out.

Harry said nothing, even if he felt more for him, because Harry got it.

Holding on to his grief meant he didn’t even notice Lillian until she was right in front of his face.

Years, he’d lost. They’d lost.

But he was in a way better place than Stormy.

He gave the man more time, before he requested, “Can I call my deputy back in?”

Stormy looked at him. “Yeah.”

Harry opened the door.

Sean entered and closed it behind him again.

“We’re here about Muggsy Ballard,” Harry told him and watched Stormy’s dark brows shoot together. “He worked for you, yeah?”

“Yeah. Worked for me, and he was a friend.”

“Tight?”

“Everyone who knew Muggsy was tight with him. He was that guy,” Stormy replied.

“He was working for you when he died,” Harry noted to confirm.

“Yeah,” Storm said.

“Good worker?”

“Absolutely. He’d do anything for you. Was in early. Would stay late. Pissed me off because he never wanted to let me down, so he came in once with a flu, then half my guys got the fuckin’ flu and called in sick for a week. But that was how Muggsy’s mind worked. First thought, don’t let a brother down. The rest of the thoughts didn’t occur to him.”

Harry glanced at Sean to give him a chance at the floor.

Sean took it.

“Close to his death, did he seem to have any issues?”

Storm shook his head. “I’m no psychologist, but Muggsy took a lot of falls in his life, most of them by his own design, but he always got up. Never knew a man who could dust off the seat of his pants and get on with it like Muggsy could.”

“We’re now aware that Muggsy didn’t commit suicide,” Harry told him.

For a beat, Stormy froze.

Then his irritability came back, tenfold.

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