Something about the way he asked the question made Natalie think Liam had spoken to his brother about her.
“I was, yes,” she said.
Rylee waved an arm toward the crowd and said something that sounded like “Enny.”
“He’s inside,” Marc said a little distractedly as his daughter continued to wave her arm.
“Enny,” Rylie repeated more energetically.
“Okay, okay. We’ll go find your cousin Jenny. Sorry,” he told Natalie. “I’m nothing more than her highne
ss’s chariot. I move at her command. It’s good to see you here, Natalie.”
“Thanks. I’ll see you later. ’Bye Rylee.”
Rylee watched her with big eyes over her father’s broad shoulder as they walked away. Natalie smiled and entered the air-conditioned interior of the Family Center. She couldn’t help but think that Marc didn’t seem half as imposing or intimidating when he held his daughter in his arms.
Natalie had been inside the Family Center several times to do some bookkeeping and other paperwork. She usually came during regular business hours, so she wasn’t used to the silence that reigned at the moment. Now that she’d entered the premises, she started to realize how intrusive it might seem for her to interrupt Liam and his mother. She paused in the hallway, feeling uncertain. She started when Liam spoke, his voice much closer than she’d expected.
“You knew him, didn’t you? You knew Lincoln DuBois.”
Her heart seemingly leaped into her throat when a closed office door just three feet away from her jostled in the catch, as if someone had just leaned on it…or placed a hand on it, preventing it from opening?
“Don’t walk away,” she heard Liam’s quiet voice warn.
“Who do you think you are, asking me these questions?” Brigit Kavanaugh spoke for the first time, her voice cold with fury.
“I’m your son. I’m Derry’s son, too. And I have every right to ask about Lincoln DuBois after seeing Dad’s reaction to him on that videotape. DuBois grew up in South Lake Tahoe. So did you, Mom. You went to the same private high school for two years before grandpa got transferred to Chicago. He’s a famous man—a billionaire I don’t know how many times over. You’d think you would have mentioned at least once that you went to school together. Are you still going to deny knowing him?”
“I’m not denying anything,” Brigit replied.
“So you’re admitting you did?” Liam asked slowly. “Why didn’t you ever mention it before?”
“Why would I? He means nothing to me. He was a childhood friend,” Brigit spat.
“Why did he mean so much to Dad, then?” Liam persisted.
Natalie had slowly started to back out of the hallway, but her feet kept stalling. She knew she was intruding on a charged, private conversation, but her curiosity seemed to glue her shoes to the floor.
“Stop it, Liam. I’ve told you half a dozen times now that I’m not going to play this game with you. I’ve never seen you behave this way. You’re acting like a spoiled brat.”
“You’re acting like someone who has a secret,” Liam returned so quickly, so coldly, that Natalie’s feet came to a dead halt.
The silence that followed was so tense—so awful—that Natalie cringed inwardly.
“What if I do have a secret?” Brigit finally said. “That doesn’t mean you have the right to harass me about it. Maybe I’m keeping that secret because you’re my son, and I don’t want to burden you with it. Do you have so little faith in me? Why would you automatically assume I’m keeping something from my children with malicious intent? Do you really think that poorly of me?”
“I don’t think you’re being malicious. If you kept something from us when we were kids, I can understand that,” Liam replied, sounding vaguely contrite now. “But we’re not kids anymore, Ma. If you know why Dad was so upset on the night of the crash, why don’t you tell me? You don’t have to shoulder the truth alone. At least tell me what Lincoln DuBois has to do with anything.”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m a criminal, Liam. Do you think the world began on the day you were born? I was young once. I had a life that didn’t revolve exclusively around my children.”
“Don’t try to make me feel guilty,” Liam said, his voice once again like steel.
“We all have secrets,” Brigit continued as if he hadn’t even spoken. “Marc does. You do. Your father certainly did.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s just the truth, Liam. That’s what you’re so fond of, right?”