Page 53 of Say Yes to the Death

“Luke. Come on.” She stared at him earnestly until he met her eyes.

“Fine, but only because I know you won’t let this go. My dad’s dead. My brother killed him.”

“What?” she practically shouted. The fork fell from her hand and thudded to the floor. Another one appeared at her side as if by magic.

“I’m so sorry, Luke. What the hell happened?” She clutched her new fork like a lifeline. People at the restaurant were staring at them, but she didn’t care. She had found an obituary for Luke’s dad when she’d internet stalked him before agreeing to work with him for Nicole’s proposal. But that obituary sure as hell didn’t mention anything about George Islestorm II getting murdered by his son.

Luke set his fork down and turned to the window. He grimaced as if he was passing a kidney stone. “It happened while I was deployed. I was in Afghanistan and I got a call from my brother. He said my dad had been in a car accident. They weren’t sure he was going to make it. Meanwhile, I’m half a world away, suturing people and administering fucking flu shots. I applied for emergency leave, but the day it got approved I got another call. This time from my mother. That phone call was one of the only times in my adult life I’ve heard her show any kind of emotion. They were already divorced at that point, but I think she always loved him.”

He took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes, leaning back in his chair. He didn’t meet Claire’s gaze.

“She and my dad had set my brother up as medical power of attorney when they made their will. My brother made the decision to pull the plug on my dad. He knew I was trying to get home. He took away my last chance to see my dad alive.”

This may have been the longest string of sentences Luke had ever said to her.

“You never got to say goodbye,” she said softly.

“No. I came home for the funeral. We almost got into a fistfight. Never spoke to him since.”

“I am so sorry about your dad. Did your brother—” she hesitated, not wanting to push the subject. “Did he say why he did it?”

“Some bullshit about not wanting to keep dad ‘in limbo.’”

Her shoulders slumped. She stabbed her fork into the mystery dinner. Now she was the asshole for grilling him on a dark family secret. “That’s awful. You must miss him so much. I’m sorry for asking you to talk about it.”

Luke picked up his fork and resumed eating. “It’s okay. I should learn to talk about it. It almost felt kind of good.”

Wow. Mystery solved. No wonder he hated his brother. If god forbid something ever happened to Alice, Claire would never shut off her life support without Charlie. And yet, it sounded like his brother hadn’t had sinister intentions. It had been three years since his father’s death. Three years of his niece’s life missed. Time he would never get back. But she surely wasn’t going to bring that up to him. It wasn’t her place. Was it?

They chewed together in silence for a minute. Whatever he’d ordered for her was delicious. Duck, maybe?

“Have you ever considered reconnecting with your brother?” Claire asked quietly in between bites. She couldn’t help herself.

He shook his head. “He was a douche even at the best of times.”

Must take after Rachel.

“He sent me a few emails over the years, but I never responded,” Luke continued. “Every time I see a picture of him, all I can think about is my dad.”

“But he’s family,” she said, taking a sip of water. “And your niece?—”

“Have you ever tried reconnecting with your dad?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“Fair enough. Not my place. Sorry.”

They finished their meal in silence. A pall had been cast of the magic of Paris. It served her right for snooping, but at least now she knew the truth. He had been honest with her, even when it hurt. It was time to shake off the family trauma and recapture the magic of Paris while they were still here. Maybe the night could still be salvaged.

“How are you feeling?” Luke asked as they exited the restaurant and stepped under the stars. He took her arm.

“Great.” Claire rolled her shoulders back. For the first time in weeks, she wasn’t tense. Luke had finally been honest with her. She was an ocean away from paparazzi, from her attempted killer, from whomever had tucked the message under her pillow. Surely that was just someone playing a prank. Wendy was probably bored. There was no way Barney could be pulling strings from prison, right?

Did Paris have binder stores? Maybe she should start a list of suspects, just in case. With Luke in California, she would have an easier time doling out vigilante justice. “And you?”

“Good. I think the company helps.” He lifted her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss over her knuckles.

Her toes curled in her shoes. The note-leaver could wait.

“It’s amazing that you can see so many stars in the middle of the city.” She paused in the middle of a busy crosswalk and twirled around. The streetlights of Paris blurred around her like a strand of Christmas lights. She stopped mid-twirl and gasped.

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