Page 66 of Lethal Danger

“I know you weren’t always as happy here as we would’ve liked. It was hard for you, being away from your dad, and we didn’t always know how to help you with that.”

Love and acceptance would’ve worked. She held in the comeback. If Uncle Pierce was going to start being nice, she didn’t want to ruin it by insulting him.

He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “I was so busy with work, I’m afraid I didn’t do a good job stepping into your dad’s shoes and being what you needed.”

Was Uncle Pierce apologizing? She fought to keep her mouth from hanging open.

“I’m sorry for that.”

Wow. There it was. An apology. Maybe the world would stop turning next.

“Losing Joan…your aunt…has made me see some things for the first time.” He turned his head away. “Family is everything.” His voice thickened.

Was he about to cry? No way.

He sniffed as he turned and headed back to his desk. “Here I am, going on like a lonely old man. Please,” he gestured to the chair on the front side of his desk, “have a seat and tell me what brings you by.”

She cautiously walked to the leather armchair and sat. “I thought you might like some old photos I have of Aunt Joan.” She scooted forward and set the shoebox on the edge of his desk. “A few of us at the fair with some vendors. And there are others of the time she directed our school choir when Sandra and Crystal were in it.”

He reached for the box and opened it, sifting through the photos. A smile lifted his mouth as he brought his gaze up to her. “These are wonderful. Thank you, Jazz.” His attention lowered to a photo in his hand. “It’s hard to see her. But comforting, too.”

A lump formed in Jazz’s throat at the obvious weight of grief in his voice. He and Aunt Joan had argued a lot when Jazz had stayed with them, but overall, she knew they were a team. Both career-driven and focused on success for their daughters and themselves. They stuck together more years than most married couples these days. And they’d definitely made something of themselves and their children.

Their daughters must be coming for the funeral. And to be there for their dad. He’d need support. More than Jazz had realized until she saw him.

He was so changed by the loss. Even his posture was different, the usually proud stature slumped now, like he was weighted down by the burden of grief. But maybe the girls were already there, helping with funeral preparations.

“Are Sandra and Crystal here?”

“No. Not yet.” He returned the photos to the box and pressed the lid down. “They aren’t sure when they’ll arrive. Possibly Wednesday.” He met her gaze, a glint of pain in his eyes. “The funeral is scheduled for Saturday. I hope you’ll be able to come.”

Hadn’t thought she’d be invited. But the Cracklens did always like to keep up appearances, so maybe that was why she was being included. She was Aunt Joan’s biological family, after all.

“These photos might make a nice addition to the funeral.” He rested his hand on the lid of the box. “Sandra and Crystal are considering a commemorative display for Joan. Perhaps they’d like to add a personal element with these.” A small, sad smile settled on his face. “Do you have other items, maybe from Lawrence, that we could include? He may have kept mementos from their childhood.”

“I don’t know. I haven’t really looked through Dad’s things yet.” And she didn’t plan to, now at two years after his passing or twenty years later. Much easier to move on and try to forget.

“I’d be happy to help you look.” Uncle Pierce’s eyes filled with understanding as he watched her. “Though I know how it is with loss. Thanks to this experience.” He winced and dropped his stare to the desktop. “Things you didn’t think would be hard seem impossible when you lose someone you love.”

He focused on Jazz again. “I don’t mean to pressure you to do something you’re not ready to yet. But it would mean a lot. There might be photos of Joan’s childhood or other keepsakes that could be precious to me and her girls.”

The pain in his eyes, the desperation to find comfort somewhere, twisted her heart. “Okay.”

“You mean you’ll let me help you look?”

“Sure. I guess.”

“Thank you, Jazz.” Warmth she’d never heard in his voice before softened his usually commanding tone. “Let me buy you dinner. I can bring takeout to your place, and we can walk down memory lane together.”

Walk down memory lane. Sharing family history with a member of her family. Was that what normal people did? Longing tugged at her heart.

But Uncle Pierce wouldn’t want to go to her tiny middle-class apartment. And did he even eat takeout? Nerves shooed away the dreamy spell. “Um, my apartment isn’t much. And it’s a total mess right now.” Thanks to the thugs who’d just trashed it and were now warming the inside of a jail cell.

“No problem.” He tapped his smartphone that lay on the desk and scrolled through something on the screen. “Let’s make it two days from now. Tuesday at noon. I’ll bring lunch.” His commanding tone was back, though colored with a friendliness that she didn’t remember.

“Okay. I guess that works.” Since she had zero social life outside of Nevaeh. And maybe a handsome famous author, if she was lucky. Only problem was her patrol shift at the fair until four. But she could trade shifts with Sof and take the late night. She kept the complication to herself. Uncle Pierce didn’t like complications.

“Wonderful.” He set down his phone and stood.

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