Page 30 of When Summer Returns

Reece settled into his chair, the hint of a grimace revealing the old shoulder injury that still bothered him in damp weather. He took a sip of his coffee, eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Luke’s rigid posture.

“Something on your mind, brother? You’ve got that look.”

“What look is that?” Luke asked, his voice deceptively even.

“The one that says I should be checking my life insurance policy.” Reece leaned back, his expression shifting from friendly to wary. “What’s going on?”

“Fifteen years ago.” Luke planted his hands on Reece’s desk, leaning forward. “The night Jessie James left the island. She says she gave you a note for me.”

The change in Reece was instant and profound. His face went blank, a fortress slamming shut, the same expression he’d worn during poker games since they were thirteen. But Luke caught the flicker in his eyes—recognition, followed by something that might have been guilt.

“That was a long time ago,” Reece said carefully.

“Not long enough to forget, apparently.”

“We were kids.”

“And that makes it okay?” Luke’s voice rose despite his efforts to contain it. “She trusted you with that note, and you never delivered it. Do you have any idea what that cost? What it cost her? What it cost me?”

“Of course I know what it cost,” Reece snapped. “I had front-row seats to your self-destruction for months afterwards.”

Reece set his coffee down with deliberate precision, his movements controlled as if handling explosives. “You need to back up and take a breath, Mallory.”

“I need answers.”

“No, what you need is perspective.” Reece’s calm was infuriating. “You’re talking about something that happened when we were eighteen years old, like it happened yesterday.”

“It might as well have,” Luke said. “Fifteen years of thinking she just left without a word. Fifteen years believing she didn’t care enough to say goodbye. And all that time, you knew different.”

Reece stood then, slow and measured, his height matching Luke’s as they faced each other across the desk. “You really want to do this? Right now?”

“I want the truth.”

“Fine.” Reece’s voice hardened. “Let’s talk truth. Yes, she gave me a note. Yes, I said I’d deliver it. I was seventeen, half drunk and stupidly showing off for some tourist girl I’d taken to the cove. Jessie stumbled across us there—God knows what she was doing out that late. She looked scared, Luke. Really scared. Had a backpack with her, and she was in a hurry. Shoved this folded paper at me, said to get it to you first thing in the morning.”

“And you just forgot?” Luke’s knuckles whitened as he gripped the edge of the desk. “I was looking for her everywhere, and you had the one thing that might have explained where she’d gone?”

Something flashed in Reece’s dark eyes—regret, perhaps, or his own well-buried pain.

“No. I put it in my pocket. Planned to bring it to you after I took the girl home.” He ran a hand over his close-cropped hair, a gesture Luke recognized from childhood—Reece preparing to say something he didn’t want to admit. “But I never got the chance.”

“Why not?”

“Because Jesse James showed up at the cove not fifteen minutes later, looking like the wrath of God. He was half drunk, wild eyed, demanding to know where his daughter was.” Reece’s gaze locked with Luke’s. “He spotted the corner of the note sticking out of my pocket. Asked what it was. When I tried to lie, he grabbed it.”

The blood drained from Luke’s face, leaving him lightheaded. “He took it? Old Jesse took Jessie’s note?”

“Tried to stop him.” For the first time, a hint of shame crept into Reece’s voice. “But I was no match for him back then, not with a pint of tequila making my reflexes slow. He knocked me down, took the note, read it right there. His face—” Reece shook his head. “I’d never seen anyone look like that. Like he wanted to kill something. And then he told me if I ever mentioned that note to you or anyone else, he’d do worse than knock me down.”

Luke stepped back, his legs suddenly unsteady. He lowered himself into the visitor’s chair, trying to process what he was hearing. The pieces of the puzzle were finally falling into place, forming a picture far more sinister than he’d imagined.

“You should have told me anyway.”

“Yeah? And what would you have done?” Reece’s dark eyes flashed. “Gone charging over there like some avenging knight? Jesse James would have used your head for target practice, and you know it.

“Maybe I should have.” Reece resumed his seat as well. “But at eighteen, having Jesse James threaten me seemed like a pretty good reason to keep my mouth shut. By the time I worked up the nerve to tell you, you were…” He trailed off.

“I was what?”

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