Page 58 of A Vintage of Regret
"This is harassment!" Elizabeth's voice rang across the parking lot like a dinner bell, and Riley's stomach dropped. Her mother swept into view as if she were making a grand entrance at the Met Gala, her midnight blue evening gown billowing dramatically in the night breeze. She positioned herself near the valet stand like she was claiming territory. "Sandy, you have no right to storm into a charity event and drag an innocent man away like some common criminal."
"Ma'am, Mr. Callahan isn't under arrest," Sandy replied, her voice carrying a maddeningly professional calm Riley hadn’t remembered from high school. "We're just going to have a conversation."
"A conversation that can’t wait until Monday morning?" Elizabeth's voice rose another octave. "At the police station, no less?"
Chad emerged from the crowd, his tuxedo jacket draped over one arm, sweat beading along his hairline despite the cool evening air, like a shark scenting blood. "Grant, you shouldn't say another word without legal representation. Let me handle this."
Kelly's laugh was sharp enough to cut glass. "If we needed a lawyer, it wouldn't be you." She turned to face Chad directly, and Riley was surprised by the steel in her sister-in-law's usually gentle voice. "Grant made it very clear he doesn't want you anywhere near this situation."
Chad pushed closer, ignoring Kelly entirely. "Sandy, what exactly are the charges here? Are you planning on booking my client?"
"Your client?" Grant's voice dropped to the dangerous quiet tone Riley remembered from their childhood fights. "Did you miss the part where my wife just told you that you're not my attorney?" He moved to the passenger side of his SUV and helped Kelly inside with exaggerated courtesy. "Besides, you've got bigger problems to worry about than my legal representation."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Chad's face flushed red in the security lighting.
Grant straightened slowly, and Riley caught a glimpse of the man who'd once been quarterback of the football team—confident, ruthless when cornered. "It means maybe you should spend less time chasing after other people's legal problems and more time explaining to your wife why that blonde in the red dress was practically sitting in your lap during the silent auction."
The parking lot went dead silent. Riley watched the color drain from Chad's face as every eye in the vicinity turned to him like spotlights.
"Time to go," Sandy announced, sliding behind the wheel of her patrol car.
Grant walked over to Riley and took both her hands in his—a gesture so tender and protective it made her throat tight. "I'll call you in the morning, little sis."
He turned to Bryson, and for a moment, the years fell away. They weren't two men with a complicated history—they were just her brother and… well Bryson. "Take care of her."
"You know I will."
Walter stepped forward, pressing a small piece of paper into Grant's palm. "Harlan Maddox. He's my attorney and a good friend. Call him—it can't hurt to have someone in your corner."
"I appreciate it." Grant pocketed the paper, climbed into his SUV, and followed Sandy's patrol car into the night, leavingbehind the acrid smell of exhaust and the weight of unfinished conversations.
Riley sagged against Bryson, feeling like all her bones had turned to water. The country club parking lot, which moments before had seemed with the elegant aftermath of a successful charity event, now felt like a crime scene. Groups of well-dressed guests huddled together in the fluorescent light, their voices carrying snippets of speculation and barely concealed excitement.
"Riley," Erin's voice cut through the chaos. She stumbled toward them in her emerald gown, holding up her hem with one hand, clutching a small, beaded purse in the other. "Did Sandy really arrest Grant?"
"No," Bryson said, his arm tightening around Riley's waist. "But honestly, we're not sure what's happening."
"This is absolutely ridiculous," Elizabeth announced to anyone within earshot, her voice carrying across the parking lot like a town crier. "Grant Callahan is one of the most respected men in this community." She fumbled in her purse, producing a delicate lace handkerchief that she pressed to her eyes with theatrical precision. "Chad, what are you still doing here? Get down to that police station, and make sure Sandy doesn't try to railroad him."
The parking lot had filled with curious onlookers—apparently half of Stone Bridge's social elite had abandoned the charity event to witness the drama firsthand. They clustered in small groups, pointing and whispering with the shameless hunger of people who'd just discovered the juiciest gossip of the year.
Erin found Riley's hand, gripping tight. Her sister's palm was ice-cold and trembling.
Chad dug into his pocket and pulled out a valet ticket, scanning the crowd with the desperate look of a man searchingfor an escape route. His eyes locked onto someone in the distance, and he raised his hand in a subtle signal.
Riley followed his gaze and felt Erin's grip tighten to the point of pain.
"Don't wait up," Chad said, his voice flat as he stared directly at Erin. "I have no idea how long this is going to take."
"It won't take any time at all," Bryson said, his voice carrying that deceptively casual tone that meant he was furious. "Since it was made abundantly clear that Grant doesn't want you there."
Chad's face twisted with something ugly. "Mind your own damn business, Boone."
He snatched his keys from the valet without offering a tip, slid into his silver Porsche, and peeled out with enough force to leave rubber on the asphalt.
"Come on, Erin." Elizabeth reached for her younger daughter with jewelry-laden fingers. "Let's go get the children. You can all stay with me tonight."
"No." Erin's voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried absolute finality.
