She studied his profile and wondered what he was thinking. Surely it hadn’t been easy for him to hear what Roger had said. Regret trickled into her awareness.
“You seemed surprised,” Natalie murmured, her voice barely audible above the raucous music of the band. “You don’t have any idea why your father was so upset?”
“Not a clue,” Liam said.
“Your…your mother never mentioned any reason why he might have been in such a state on that night?”
He turned. His eyes were a dark, cobalt blue in the dim light as they flicked over her. He shook his head.
“I’ll tell you one thing, though,” he said.
She leaned toward him.
“I never saw my father cry a tear in his life. Never.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
“Something happened to him that night,” Natalie whispered.
“Something,” Liam muttered in agreement. He transferred his gaze to the empty seat across from them as his thigh shifted beneath the table, brushing her skirt against her thigh. “Maybe the video from the bar will tell me something more about what happened to my dad that night.”
“So you haven’t seen it yet?”
“No. I’m scheduled to go to the police headquarters Thursday morning. A friend of mine is going to get the video out of storage.”
> Natalie was quiet for a moment. “Has your mother ever spoken to you about the last time she saw your dad?”
Liam shook his head. “The only thing she ever told us is that he came back from Chicago earlier than she’d expected. He usually stayed in the city from Monday to Thursday night and joined us at the vacation house for a long weekend during the summer months.”
“The crash happened on a Tuesday night,” Natalie recalled. “And your mother never said why she thought he showed up unexpectedly?”
“No. Like I’ve told you before, we don’t make a habit of standing around at family barbecues, reminiscing about the crash.”
She recoiled slightly at the hard edge to his voice. He must have noticed, because he sighed and slumped back in the booth. His thigh pressed tighter against hers, but Natalie doubted he noticed. He seemed so deflated.
“Sorry for snapping at you,” he mumbled. He started to flip a spoon that had been sitting on the table between his long, agile fingers.
“It’s okay,” she said, meaning it. She recalled what Roger Dayson had said about Derry Kavanaugh on the beach.
He seemed like someone had just told him his best friend had been killed.
“I know this can’t be easy for you,” she said quietly as she watched the movement of his fingers.
“I’m sure it’s not a picnic in the park for you, either.”
She glanced up, surprised because his low, gruff voice sounded closer to her ear than she’d expected. His goatee looked so trim and sleek up close. It highlighted his firm mouth to perfection. The thought of what those whiskers would feel like beneath her fingertips rose in her mind to taunt her. She still could hear the rowdy music in the distance, so she couldn’t explain why it suddenly felt as if the two of them were encapsulated in an airtight bubble.
“Are you sure you want to do this, Natalie?”
“Yes. Are you regretting it? Taking the job, I mean?”
His expression remained impassive, but his eyes seemed warm as they flickered across her face.
“I don’t regret it enough to make me stop doing it.”
She just nodded, unable to glance away.
“I wish you’d take off those glasses.”