“I think we’d like that,” he said finally.
“Thanks again for bringing us out and going through this,” I said, keeping the warm feelings going.
“I wouldn’t have missed it. And do call me if you need anything during your stay in London.”
Nick drove us back to the train station—he had the timetable memorized and the next departure was scheduled in fifteen minutes.
Ben had to go and break the cheerful mood. “I don’t mean to be unfriendly, but as one lawyer to another I have to ask if you’re going to let him walk away with that box or if you’re going to claim some kind of ownership. You’d have every right to. We can’t prove any of this about Amelia in court.”
Nick smiled at him in the rearview mirror. “Mr. O’Farrell, I’m a criminal prosecutor. I think my legal talents are better spent in other pursuits.”
“Great, I’m in criminal defense. We should talk.”
“Oh dear,” he said, laughing.
We said our farewells, and Nick Parker drove off to his meeting. As promised, we were on the train back to London within minutes.
Cormac put the box on the table in front of him and went through the contents again: along with the journals the box held homemade charms made of scrap metal, nails, and the like; lengths of knotted yarn; nuts, acorns, shells, pebbles with holes in them, sea glass in blue and green; dried leaves carefully preserved between folded sheets of paper. They might have been the odds and ends and found treasure that any girl would keep secretly in a box hidden from all prying eyes, especially those of a domineering older brother. But I didn’t think so, or I didn’t think that was all. It all seemed vaguely familiar—they looked like charms, amulets, talismans. Bits and scraps of magic stored away.
When he finished looking at the pieces and skimming the journals, he put them carefully back in the box, which he sealed, then went back to staring out the window. I couldn’t guess what he was thinking.
“You going to be okay?” I asked.
Glancing over, he seemed thoughtful. “Yeah. It’s weird. There’s Amelia, now her family—a lot more family than I ever thought I’d get.”
“Like acquiring in-laws,” Ben said, and feigning offense I said, “Hey!”
He backpedaled. “I didn’t say there’s anything wrong with your family, just that there’s a lot of them. Cormac and I were both only children, and our folks weren’t exactly gregarious. The screaming kids thing takes getting used to.” My sister Cheryl had two kids who were firmly into the running and screaming phase. I actually sympathized.
Cormac added, “That, and you see your father killed in front of you you start to think you don’t deserve a family.”
The train hummed along during the long pause before I ventured, “What do you think now?”
He gave an offhand shrug, glanced at the two of us before looking back out the window. “I think I’m doing okay.”
Ben had tensed beside me, watching his cousin. After his answer, he let out a sigh and relaxed again. I smiled, because I thought he was doing okay, too.
I had a sudden thought. “Hey—you should come to dinner tonight. We’re meeting Luis and his sister. Just a small group thing. It’ll be fun.”
“No, I don’t think so,” he said reflexively.
I looked to Ben, pleading for help in persuading his cousin.
“It’s up to you,” Ben said. “But you have to eat sometime, might as well get a good meal out of it.”
“I just don’t think I’m up for much more togetherness right now.”
“Mr. Badass hunter guy who isn’t scared of anything is scared of dinner?” I said. He just looked at me sidelong, smirking.
“She’s got a point,” Ben said.
“You’re supposed to be on my side,” Cormac grumbled. “I just don’t see the point in trying to … domesticate me.”
Interesting choice of word. I considered for a minute and realized I would probably never stop worrying about Cormac. “I’m not trying to domesticate you. Just … don’t you think you should get out more?”
“I’m okay. I’ve always been okay.” He almost sounded like he was trying to convince himself.