Page 28 of Doyle

You up, Pen?

Dots, and then they vanished. The phone buzzed and Tia pressed speaker. “Hey.”

“How’d the party go?”

She imagined Penelope dressed in a fuzzy robe, at her kitchen table, maybe nursing a coffee too and reading through the latest murder headlines on her tablet. Her dark hair would be tangled and messy—and of course, her little sister wouldn’t care in the least because she possessed a sort of easy beauty, although she knew how to glam up too.

Tia was more practical, utilitarian with her approach. But being on the island had sort of given her the easy beauty of her sister—she’d cultivated a tan, raised a few freckles, and added a glow to her skin.

“It was good, I think. I have a couple donors coming by later today to tour the clinic. And it’s an all-week event. Declan invited them for both fun and fundraising, so we’ll have more chances to talk.” She glanced at the clinic. “I did have another run-in with Sebold.”

“What?”

“Yeah. He broke into the clinic, took the X-ray and the ultrasound machines.” She touched the wound at her neck, glad she wasn’t on video.

“You’re kidding. What did the police say?”

“I haven’t talked to them. Stein said they wouldn’t be a big help—they’re afraid of the S-7 gang.”

“Stein—as in Conrad’s older brother?”

“Yes. He’s here with Declan Stone—I think working security.”

“Where was Doyle?”

The question stirred the image of Doyle, horrified, desperate, standing in the reception area, a look of fury in his blue eyes.

The man just fueled something in her.

Like, frustration. “He was there. Told Sebold to take the ultrasound and go.” She still couldn’t believe he’d said that.

Then again, Doyle didn’t have his entire future riding on this gig. Sure, she could return home, take over running the family’s charitable organization, EmPowerPlay, but the truth was... she needed to break free of the trauma hovering over her life in Minneapolis. Even the stigma of being a Pepper. She wanted a career that she made on her own, without the favor of her family connection.

Although, clearly Doyle knew who she was. However, maybe he didn’t know about Edward.

“How well do you know Doyle?”

“He was at Boo’s wedding in January, but we didn’t really talk. The family sort of drew a circle around him. They’re pretty protective.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it has something to do with his fiancée dying a few years ago. Conrad told me that she was in an accident on the way to the wedding.”

“You’re kidding.”

“That’s all I know. Conrad doesn’t talk much about it.”

She sat back, drew up one knee. “Doyle said he was going to be a doctor. And a missionary. Do you think the accident is why he dropped out of medical school?”

“I don’t know. But you certainly put your life on hold after Edward was murdered.”

Her entire body jolted at that word—murdered. Especially since, for the better part of the last three years, she’d believed his death to be an accident in a fire.

“Yes, but I’d broken up with him before that,” she said quietly.

“I know. But it was still devastating. You loved him.”

Had she? Of course, yes, but three years had given her clarity. Maybe she’d loved him because he was the sensible, convenientyes. Theyesthat had made her feel safe.

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