Page 161 of Share with Me

“It’s Valentine’s Day. Don’t you have a date or something?”

“No, I don’t.”

He didn’t say more. Brinley was in no position to suggest that the widower change his status. Malik had his reasons for deciding not to remarry, and there was nothing Brinley could do about the war wounds and angst he still carried from his Special Forces days in Afghanistan nor about his lovely wife who had died of a brain aneurism a few days after their first wedding anniversary. Some things were best left buried.

“I’m busy running Brooks Security.” Somehow Malik felt the need to explain. “There’s no time for frills.”

Perhaps he was rationalizing his life to himself, Brinley thought. “Frills, Malik? All right. No need to explain.”

“I was thinking that if you wanted to drive a hybrid crossover—or whatever you said you wanted—off the lot today, I could drop you off. Save you a trip.”

“And maybe hang around to make sure they don’t mess with me?”

“That too.”

“Okay, Malik. I accept. Pick me up anytime.”

“How about now? I’m outside.”

The security office was in the guesthouse next door, but surely someone else had the weekend shifts. “Tell me you didn’t work today.”

“I gave some of my people the day off so they could spend it with their sweethearts.”

“How thoughtful. You need a raise, Malik. I’ll see to it.”

“Why, thank you, Miss Brinley. I should hang out with you more often.”

“Give me five minutes to be decent.”

“I’ll be right here.”

It didn’t take five minutes. Brinley ran upstairs two steps at a time, grabbed her purse from her bedroom, threw on a winter coat, and she was outside locking up the front door before Malik could finish his fries.

“Want some?” Malik pointed the cup of fries in Brinley’s direction.

“Sure. I don’t think it’s good for us, though.”

“Speak for yourself, Miss Brinley. I’ve had fries since I was a little kid.”

The drive to the Brunswick dealership was greasy. Brinley wiped her fingers off on a paper napkin as best she could. “Any word from Helen about my Strads?”

“I talked to her last week. She’s still tracking it. I don’t know why she can’t do it from over here. Costly for her to be over there in person, don’t you think?”

“Sure was, but now that my Mom and Dad have decided to join her, I’d rather she be with them than someone else. You never know what sort of things my parents will get into.”

“Ain’t that the truth. Tell me, is it true Ned used to be some sort of amateur sleuth?”

“In their twenties, before they had Dillon, he and Mom roamed the world, solving crimes. Not sure if they were paid, but Grandpa Brooks used to say that they spent a fortune living the high life.” Too much money in the family. Too little to do after college.

“How romantic.”

“Getting into trouble was more like it. I wouldn’t be surprised if Dad tracks down the Damaris soon. All he needs is one lead. After so many years, he has it now.”

“And so much money spent on recovering one old violin.” Malik didn’t say anymore.

Brinley could guess what was going through his mind. “You’re thinking there are hungry people in the world and all that money could be spent feeding them.”

“Something like that.”

“Well, we do feed the hungry and clothe the poor too. Grandpa’s foundation has contributed close to a billion dollars to that over the years.”

“I know and that’s good.”

“Glad you approve, Malik. I do agree, though. Maybe we can do more. Show more of God’s love.” Help people at church and in the community. There were poor people on St. Simon’s Island too, people in poverty—

Ivan.

Why won’t he let me help him?

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