Page 99 of Deception

“How about any of the men that were there?”

“No. Why is it important?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “The woman I bought dinner for was shot and critically wounded right after she left the Guest House, and I believe it could have been someone at the restaurant.”

Jen gasped. “That’s terrible. Is she all right now?”

“She’s improving.” If someone didn’t get to her and finish the job.

“I tell you what. I’ll think about it and sketch the people I remember. Will that help?”

“Yes! That would be great.” Jen had been sketching and painting since she was a kid, and she was very good at it. “And I’ll text you a photo of a man I think may have been there. See if you remember seeing him.”

“Okay.”

“Thank you. And Jen, I’m really sorry about last night. I...” He took a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have said some of the things I did.”

“Thank you. And I promise, Jake has changed. You’d know it if you talked to him.”

Talk was cheap, but he managed to bite back the words. “I hope you’re right.”

Jen promised to get the sketches to him by Sunday, and he breathed a sigh after they hung up. He truly did hope Jake had changed. He didn’t know why she loved the sorry excuse for a man, but she did.

The same reason I love you.She sees potential in him.

Clayton winced as God laid the impression on him. He had the potential to be an addict just as much as Jake. Not “potential to be”—he was an addict, and he better not let himself forget that. Clayton had seen the destruction caused by gambling in the meetings he attended, and it was every bit as real as a drug addiction. That it hadn’t destroyed his life was only grace.

Reach out to Jake. He needs a friend.

Clayton resisted the impression on his heart, but it persisted.

Okay. First chance he got, he’d talk to Jake.

He checked his watch. Time to pick up Madison. A few minutes later, he rang the front doorbell. When she opened the door, he almost lost his breath. “You look...”

“Mah-velous, darling?” she supplied in a Billy Crystal voice.

He laughed. “You’re good with that accent. And yes, you look marvelous.”

And she did with her blond hair framing her face. The blue shirt matched her eyes perfectly. And she wore a smidgeon of makeup. For him?

He’d like to think that, but it was probably to impress her dad, not that she would admit it. People did it all the time—tried to impress the difficult people in their lives.

“You do have body armor on?”

“Of course. And you?”

“Same.” He held out his arm. “Your carriage awaits.”

He opened the door and breathed in a light, clean fragrance as she climbed into the SUV.

“I miss your five-o’clock shadow.”

Clayton ran his hand over his clean-shaven face. “I’ll keep that in mind. Shaving every day gets to be a hassle.”

An easy silence fell between them as they drove the short distance to King’s Tavern. A car pulled out from in front of the restaurant just in time for him to grab its parking spot. “Wait until I—”

“Come around,” she finished for him. “Yes, sir.”

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