“And what was your relationship with Mr. Galbraith when he asked for your professional input?”
Liam leaned toward the woman on his left. His elbow appeared to be resting on the nearest arm of her chair.
“We were friends,” Anna said. “Are friends.”
“Did you and Mr. Galbraith have a sexual relationship?”
Liam looked at Anna fully for the first time since the call had started. The woman sitting at the table stared at him in turn, visibly irritated. Or upset. Anna couldn’t pinpoint what the woman felt, but her body language conveyed something akin to surprise. And maybe annoyance.
“Yes, we did,” Anna answered.
“And were you and Mr. Galbraith engaging in sexual activity while the boat was taking on water?”
Liam interjected, “And what does that have to do with anything related to the insurance claim?”
“It is simply their contention that,” the lawyer continued dryly, “had you not been otherwise engaged in activities that had nothing to do with boat renovations, you might have noticed something was very wrong with the boat. Earlier action would have meant a far less costly repair bill, Mr. Galbraith.”
Agitation showed loud and clear in Liam’s body language, while Anna’s skin continued to prickle and flush. She didn’t want to lie, but Liam’s clients had been sold a less-than-seaworthy vessel, one that should never have been put in the water in the first place, not until it had been given a much more thorough inspection and the needed repairs.
She coughed discreetly and took the reins. “Mr. Galbraith and I were not engaging in sexual activity aboard the boat. We were assessing the condition of the front stateroom when we noticed water on the floorboards. It is my recollection the boat filled very quickly. It was also the professional opinion of the harbor master that our presence on the boat in no way caused—or compromised—the issue with the drainage system.”
Phew. Hold on boys, there’s more.
“In fact,” she continued, “because Mr. Galbraith and I were on board at the time of the system failure, repairs to the scuppers were underway much faster and the boat suffered far less damage than it would have, had the boat sunk or been underwater for any length of time.”
Liam offered Anna a discreet wink, to the consternation of the female lawyer. Anna’s curiosity was piqued. Who was this person? And why did it seem like her interest in Liam was more than lawyer to client?
“Cassidy, do we have the follow up to the initial damage report?”
The lightbulb blazed in Anna’s head. She had been nervous and distracted when introductions were being made and the lawyers’ first names hadn’t registered. The woman sitting next to Liam was Cassidy Archibald, of the law firm Archibald and Archibald. And the body language between her and Liam wasn’t giving her much of a clue about their current relationship status.
Cassidy passed a paper to the other lawyer. A series of fairly innocuous questions followed. Unsure of etiquette in these situations, Anna kept her engagement with the others to a minimum, refrained from volunteering information, and stuck to answering the other Archibald lawyer’s questions. When they finished, he thanked Anna for her time and dismissed her. She closed her laptop and remained seated, replaying the forty-five-minute interview in her head. She and Liam had not directly acknowledged one another, but neither had they avoided each other’s gaze, as much as one could when using laptop cameras.
His ex-girlfriend was a lawyer. And they looked close on camera, like they were together. Romantically together. Maybe. She never actually saw them touch.
Anna rose from the chair and moved to her bedroom. She changed out of her interview outfit, into an old long-sleeved cotton shirt and a worn pair of jeans. She folded the memory-laden sweater and returned it to its protective zippered bag.
Her belly begged off breakfast, even as the house nagged her to finish any of the sorting, tossing, and packing projects she’d started. The bare, wood-paneled walls were tired of living in a state of constant chaos, and with a few hours’ effort Anna could box up everything she wasn’t keeping. She made a pot of coffee and started back in, the pangs in her heart threatening to derail her focus for the rest of the day.
She was still sorting belongings late in the afternoon when incoming clouds spurred on by feisty gusts of wind darkened the sky. Her phone rang. She eventually located it inside one of the un-taped boxes.
Liam. He’d left a message.
“Anna, I need to see you. I’m …” was all that made it onto the message before his voice cut off.
She returned his call, but when his phone kept going to voicemail, she sent a text. “Got part of your message. Try again.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Liam hadn’t called by the next morning. Anna pocketed her phone and a measuring tape and left for the other family cottage. An early morning group email informed her that Gary Jr. and Gigi had come to an agreement about the renovations and had a list of projects they hoped she would be willing to supervise. The détente in the tension between them was a relief, and the work would distract her from the loose ends at her own cottage.
Finished with measurement-taking and list-making, she drove to a hidden harbor and parked her truck. One of her favorite trails started near the rotted boat ramp and continued uphill through stands of fir trees, a field of lichen-covered boulders, and a Garry oak forest. Edged by dried grasses and filled with scavenging birds, the trail ended at a ridge overlooking the Gulf and San Juan Islands and the mountains of British Columbia and Washington state.
She wanted a clear head and a clear way forward, and every one of her questions circled back to Liam. The view offered no answers.
On the drive home, her phone beeped with message alerts, and a light snow started to fall. Wide, lazy flakes, the kind that melted moments
