I turned as they approached.
“Now you two sure do look familiar,” Richards said. “Were you students of mine?” He snapped his fingers. “Wait a minute now.” He pointed at me. “You’re one of the Paisley boys, isn’t that right? One of the twins.”
“Cole Paisley, sir.” I rose to my feet to shake his hand. “Nice to see you.”
“This is my wife, Sharon.”
“Sure, I remember you at practices,” I said.
“Yes, I loved watching my man in action back in the day.” Sharon shook my hand.
“Now, this young lady must not be from around here,” Richards said.
“I am,” Carlie said as the corners of her mouth twitched in a nervous smile. “I’m Carlie Webster.” She straightened her shoulders, waiting for the moment when he realized who she was. The murdered girl’s sister. This was what had driven her away from here.
Richards hesitated and paled under his perfect tan, perhaps as the truth of Carlie’s identity hit him. His wife recovered faster. “Carlie Webster. Of course. It’s good to see you back in town. Are you visiting your mother?”
“I am,” Carlie said.
“What a gift she’s been to our local campaign,” Sharon said.
“What?” Carlie’s gaze fluttered over to me for a second before returning to the pillars of the community who stood before us.
“Didn’t you know she’s working on our campaign?” Sharon asked.
“Doing what?” Carlie asked.
“Whatever needs doing. That’s your mom,” Sharon said. “Salt of the earth.”
“She’s been tremendous.” Richards cleared his throat. “A real go-getter.”
Sharon smiled as she touched Carlie’s shoulder in a disarming manner, the way people did when trying to create a sense of kinship and intimacy. “My goodness, after what she’s been through. She just soldiers on.” With her medically enhanced tightened skin, precision-cut blonde bob, and studied casual wear, Sharon Richards looked more Beverly Hills than Logan Bend, Idaho.
I scratched the back of my neck, wondering how this would go over with Carlie. The stoic set of her jaw and flash of annoyance in her eyes told me she didn’t care for Sharon or her patronizing account of Mrs. Webster’s soldiering on. Carlie had never been one to suffer fools.
“How’s your family doing?” Richards asked me. “We sure missed you boys on the football field.”
“Darling, don’t be insensitive,” Sharon said in a teasing tone. “No one cares about football games from thirty years ago.”
Richards gave his wife an indulgent smile. “My wife doesn’t understand why coaching the high school football team made me happy.”
“Not when I know what good you’ve done since joining politics.” Sharon put her hand on Richard’s upper arm. “Football seems silly compared to solving homelessness.”
“True enough,” Richards said. “I hope your brothers are well?”
“Luke’s a surgeon, and Drew’s a stuntman,” I said. “They’re both doing great.”
“Wonderful to hear,” Richards said. “I didn’t care for how things were handled back then. I’m sorry for how it hurt your family.”
No one said anything for a moment. I sensed genuine kindness and remorse coming from my former coach. “Luke thought a lot of you,” I said. “Our father had some issues, and you were a good role model for us.”
Richards looked out to the trees before answering. “Luke talked to me about your dad one time. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to do anything to help. Things were different back then. We weren’t able to protect kids like we wanted.”
The old shame of our family secrets swarmed me. All I could do was nod.
“It’s nice to see you both,” Richards said. “We’ll let you get back to your lunch.”
“Two old friends catching up?” Sharon asked.
“For the first time,” Carlie said with an edge to her voice, “since the Paisleys were run out of town.”
“Well, have fun,” Sharon said. “We’ll hope to see you at our fundraiser. Your mother has all the details.”
“Sure, thanks,” Carlie said.
“Bye now.” Richards tucked his wife’s arm into the crook of his arm and they walked across the patio and into the dining room.
“How strange. My mother always hated politics.” Carlie’s brow wrinkled as she returned her gaze to mine. “But if it keeps her busy, I guess it’s fine.”
“What was bothering you about Sharon Richards?”
She raised one brow and glanced toward the door they’d just walked through. “She’s fake.”
“You hate that.”
Her eyes widened. “Yes. Always have.”
“I remember. People don’t change. Not their core values, anyway.”
She considered me for a moment. “It feels good to be known.”
“Agreed.”
We smiled at each other for longer than was normal for two people who’d only just found each other after three decades. Finally, she broke away, bringing me back to reality. “I should probably go. Mom needs me to pick up something from the pharmacy.”
“Let me walk you to your car.” I tossed a five-dollar bill on the table for a tip.
Carlie slipped out of the booth. “I’d like that.” She picked up her purse and gestured toward the back parking lot. “I’m out there.”
I followed her down the stairs. The driver of the town car leaned against the trunk while smoking a cigarette.
“Don’t see that too often in Logan Bend,” I said. “We’re more of a truck kind of town.”
“Speaking of things that don’t fit in, I’m the red Lexus.”
I opened the door for her and let her slip behind the wheel. Before I could close her in, she put up a hand. “Thanks for lunch. This is the best time I’ve had in a long time.”
I leaned over and before I knew what I was doing, I kissed her softly on the mouth. “I’m sorry, but it had to be done.”
She touched the side of my face. “I’d like to go to dinner sometime, if the offer still stands.”
“How about I cook for you?”
“You cook?”
“I don’t mean to brag, but I’m pretty spectacular in the kitchen. Do you like risotto?”
“Almost as much as pizza.”
I handed her my phone. “Would you put your number in here?”
She nodded as she reached into her purse to give me hers. “Do the same?”
“If you insist.”
I added my name to her contacts.
“Should I put myself in
