Page 23 of A Vintage of Regret
“Grant told me that he worried about Dad. He was always tired. Erin agreed and also said that our mom mentioned that my father had complained of shortness of breath lately,” Riley said carefully. “But my dad never said anything to me.”
“He didn’t say anything to us, either.” Walter shook his head. “Sean was private. Always had been. However, he and I have been friends since grade school, and we’ve shared a lot over the years. I’d like to believe that if he’d been ill, he would’ve confided in me. But, I’ll admit he’d been acting a little strange the last few weeks.”
“I’ve learned that my dad often kept a lot of things to himself, like knowing about my mother’s affair,” she said quietly, even though she’d always been able to speak freely in the Boone residence.
“Walter told us about the problems he’d been having with your mom long before they got divorced,” Brea added softly. “We’ve been friends a long time. He stood up for us at our wedding.”
“I’m really not surprised my father would confide in you.” Riley palmed her mug. “Over the years, he did fill me in on the issues. It’s not like I didn’t sense they were unhappy. But I also didn’t know the details.”
“I’ve known your mom a long time.” Brea smiled. “She often forgets we grew up on the same side of town. I don’t mean to speak badly of her, but she wanted Sean to be something he wasn’t, and money, prestige, and power have long been things she desired. Things Parker has been able to provide—and he’s a good and kind man.”
“I do like Parker. He’s always been nice to me.” Riley let out a dry chuckle. “But my mother and I have always struggled. She wanted me to be some sweet little girl who wore cute pink dresses, patent leather shoes, and pretty clips in her curly hair, like my sister. Not some wild tomboy who preferred to crush grapes with my bare feet during harvest with this guy.” She jerked her thumb at Bryson. “She’d always complain my feet were purple for weeks.”
“And she’d call us, griping about it, telling us you weren’t allowed to play with Bryson anymore.” Walter sighed. “It was always a delicate dance, and I’m sorry if we caused you any grief at home.”
“You never did. It was just always that way,” Riley said.
“But something was going on with Sean,” Bryson said, setting down his mug. “I don’t think it was his health. He’d been distracted lately, but he was still sharp. And the day before he died…” He looked over at Riley. “Well, we never did get the chance to have that chat. I have no idea what it was about, but he mentioned it was personal.”
Riley’s stomach tightened. “Personal? Did he say anything else?”
“No, but it felt urgent.” Bryson hesitated. “Now, I can’t stop wondering what he didn’t get the chance to say.”
Brea reached out and placed her hand over Riley’s. “None of this is to upset you, sweetheart. We all cared about Sean. He was a good man. If he had something to share, I believe it mattered.”
Riley’s throat grew dry. “Thank you. I… I’ve had this feeling. That something was unfinished as well. During our last few phone conversations, I heard a tension in his voice. I asked him, and he said it was nothing for me to worry about. I actually called my sister to see if she knew. We got into one of our usual fights about me abandoning the family. About turning my back on everyone. I suppose she’s not wrong in some ways.”
“I’m certainly not going to sit here in judgment of your decisions. You did what you needed to do for yourself. No one can fault you for that,” Walter said gently. “This will be a difficult time for you and your family. But know that we’re always here if you need us.”
The fact that Bryson had told his father about the baby—their baby—sent an unexpected pang of guilt, sorrow, and regret through her. She’d carried that loss alone for so long, she’d almost forgotten it belonged to both of them.
There was a long silence, broken only by the soft buzz of Devon’s cell phone. He jumped right out of his chair. “Sorry,” he muttered, tapping his screen. “Excuse me. I need to take this.” He stepped from the kitchen.
“Dad,” Bryson said behind clenched teeth. “He’s not talking to Emery Tate, is he?
“Not the time or place. We’ll talk about it later.” Walter arched brow. “Sorry about that, Riley. Were you going to say something else?”
She glanced between the two men, wondering what that was all about, but it wasn’t her business. “I’m concerned about the whole autopsy thing,” she managed. “When I last spoke to Grant about it, he said they were still waiting for the ME to make a decision. I could hear my mother in the background whispering about it, and Grant feeding off that. The thing is, my dad really did have an aversion to being cut open. But I’m still confused as to why it’s just not being done.”
“I don’t know a lot about how these things work, but I suppose when a family member, or the deceased doesn’t want one, I would think, unless there’s a specific reason for it, the ME could honor that,” Walter said, leaning back, crossing his arms over his chest. “And even though Grant tossed a ridiculous accusation at Bryson, I don’t believe the police are taking that seriously.” Walter's gaze steadied on her,something understanding in his eyes. “But everyone handles grief differently, and there’s no right or wrong way to deal with the death of a loved one. They’re hurting same as you.”
“If he voiced his suspicion, I suspect they’d have to look into it,” Bryson said.
Riley snapped her gaze back to Bryson. “What? Grant blamed you? Why?”
“He’s upset that your father died on our vineyard. He snapped at me because he didn’t like your father doing what he thought of as manual labor.” Bryson gave her what she suspected was meant to be a reassuring smile, but it fell flat, especially since Bryson and Grant hadn’t ever really been friends. “But it happened on our property. I’m the one who found him and couldn’t save him.”
“Still, my brother shouldn’t have said that.” Riley lifted her mug but only stared at the liquid.
Bryson shrugged. “Your brother and I have always had our issues, and that’s no secret.”
“I overheard some ladies gossiping in the lobby of the hotel. They mentioned the police came out here. Is that because of what Grant said?”
“Sandy Kane, you might remember her from school. She’s the police chief. She came out here late yesterday, asked a few questions, walked the property,” Walter said.
“Sandy’s a cop?” Wow. Not that it was that far of a stretch. She had a weird obsession with true crime shows throughout high school.
“She went to the academy right after college. Worked her way up the ranks and became chief last year,” Bryson said. “She wanted to speak to me. Get a picture of what happened. It’s standard procedure when someone dies alone. I don’t thinkit had anything to do with Grant’s remark in the heat of the moment.”
