Chapter 14
Fourteen
The Stone Bridge Cafe buzzed with the usual Friday afternoon energy, but the table by the front window felt like an island of tension in the midst of cheerful chaos.
Bryson nursed his third cup of coffee, watching the police station across the street through the large plate-glass windows, waiting for some sign that Grant's questioning was finished.
Riley sat beside him, her arms folded tight, gaze fixed on the building across Main Street as though sheer focus might make her brother emerge faster. The set of her jaw told him she was one heartbeat away from marching over there and demanding to know every detail of this case.
"Just breathe," he murmured, resting his hand on her knee.
"I hate this waiting," she said, not taking her eyes off the station. "Not knowing what they're asking him, what he's saying."
"Harlan's with him. Grant's smart enough to follow his lawyer's advice."
Erin sat across from them, picking at the slice of pie she'd ordered but barely touched, while Kelly twisted the strap of her purse until the leather creaked. Her eyes kept darting toward the clock, toward the window, toward nothing at all.
"The kids are okay at your parents' place?" Kelly asked for the third time in an hour.
"They're having the time of their lives," Bryson assured her. "Mom's probably spoiling them rotten, and Dad's letting them 'help' with the afternoon chores. They're better off than any of us right now."
A slight movement across the street caught his attention. "There's Grant," he said, pointing as two figures emerged from the police station—Grant in his dark suit and Harlan with his distinctive silver hair and briefcase.
They were heading toward the crosswalk when a familiar SUV pulled into the station parking lot.
"Unbelievable," Erin muttered, her fork clattering against her plate.
Chad's vehicle came to a stop, and through the cafe window, they could all see the blonde woman in the passenger seat duck her head low, trying to hide despite being in plain view of half of Main Street.
"That's her. His mistress." Erin's voice was tight with barely leashed fury. "He didn't even bother parking somewhere else. She's sitting right there."
"Classy," Riley said dryly.
Chad got out of the driver's side, straightening his tie with the arrogance of a man who thought he was untouchable. But before he could make it to the station entrance, another car pulled up—Monica's pristine white Mercedes.
Bryson frowned. "What the hell is Monica doing here?"
They watched as Monica climbed out of her car, looking uncharacteristically rattled. Her usually perfect hair seemed slightly disheveled, and even from across the street, he could see the tension in her posture.
"Think she's here about the Main Street Beautification Project?" Kelly asked.
"Has to be," Erin said. "She was always working with Mom on budget approvals and funding requests. Makes sense they'd want to question her about the committee finances."
Grant and Harlan had reached other side of the street, but instead of heading to the cafe, they paused on the sidewalk, Grant's attention fixed on something behind them. Following his gaze, Bryson saw a third car pulling into the station lot.
Elizabeth stepped out with the regal bearing of someone who considered herself above such mundane concerns as police investigations. A deputy met her at the entrance, and she disappeared inside with the kind of practiced composure that had come from years of maintaining appearances.
"Oh my God," Erin breathed. "This is really serious, isn't it? They're questioning everyone connected to those committees."
The cafe had gone quiet around their table, other patrons stealing glances their way. Small towns thrived on gossip, and the Callahan family situation was quickly becoming the biggest story Stone Bridge had seen in years.
Grant and Harlan finally pushed through the cafe door, the little bell above it chiming cheerfully in stark contrast to their grim expressions.
"How'd it go?" Riley asked as they approached the table.
"About as well as you'd expect," Grant said, slumping into the chair beside Kelly. "They're asking very detailed questions about committee finances, about who asked for what and when. What I signed off on. What I didn’t. You name it, they asked me. Including stuff about the morning Dad died."
Harlan set his briefcase on the floor and signaled the waitress for coffee. "I'd prefer not to discuss specifics in public," he said quietly, glancing around at the other tables. "But the scope of their investigation is... broader than we initially thought."
"We saw Monica go in," Bryson said. "And Chad's here with his—" He gestured toward the window where the blonde woman was still trying to make herself invisible in the passenger seat.
"And now Mom," Erin added, her voice hollow.
"Monica makes sense," Grant said. "She worked closely the beautification committee. If there are questions about how those funds were managed, Monica would have had access to the records."
"What about Dad's death?" Kelly asked in a whisper. "Are they still—"
"Kelly," Harlan interrupted gently but firmly. "Let's not speculate about ongoing investigations in a public place."
The next twenty minutes crawled by with stilted conversation and coffee refills.
Bryson found himself watching the station entrance, noting every person who went in or came out.
When Monica finally emerged, she looked worse than when she'd arrived—pale beneath her flawless makeup, her usually confident stride replaced by something that looked almost like panic.
"I'm going to talk to her," Bryson said, standing.
"Don't—" Riley started, but he was already heading for the door.
He caught up with Monica in the parking lot, her heels clicking rapidly against the asphalt as she hurried toward her car.
"Monica," he called. "Are you okay?"
She froze for half a second, spine stiff, but didn't turn around. "Yeah. Fine. Don't have time to make small talk." She waved a hand over her shoulder dismissively.
"You don't look fine."
This time she did turn, and he was struck by how genuinely shaken she appeared. Gone was the polished, predatory confidence he'd come to expect from his ex-wife. In its place was something that looked almost like fear.
"Just leave it alone," she said, fumbling with her car keys. "Just leave me alone."
Before he could respond, she was in her car and pulling out of the lot with more speed than necessary.
When he returned to the cafe, Riley raised an eyebrow. "Well?"
"She's rattled. More than I've ever seen her. Even more than when I handed her a check and told her to go back to her maiden name." Bryson retook his seat, troubled by the interaction. "Monica's a lot of things, but she's not easily spooked. Whatever they asked her in there really got to her."
Another half hour passed before Elizabeth and Chad emerged from the station. Neither looked pleased. Elizabeth's mouth was a thin, hard line, and Chad's expression was that of a man who'd just been told he wasn't as clever as he thought.
Bryson enjoyed that last part. Chad's arrogance had always grated on him, and the way he treated Erin was inexcusable.
They watched through the window as Elizabeth and Chad had what appeared to be a heated conversation in the parking lot. Then, to everyone's surprise, they both headed toward the cafe.
"Oh, great," Erin muttered. "Here comes the drama."
Elizabeth pushed through the cafe door first, her heels clicking sharply against the tile floor. The entire restaurant seemed to hold its breath as she surveyed the room, her gaze landing on their table with the kind of calculated precision that suggested she'd known exactly where to find them.
She walked straight to Grant, stopping in front of him with a slow, deliberate shake of her head. "I warned you that morning," she said, her voice quivering with the kind of fake emotion that might have fooled someone who didn't know her. "I raised you better than this."
Grant stared up at her, something bitter sparking in his eyes, but he didn't respond. He just sat there, holding his mother's gaze without flinching.
Impressive, Bryson thought.
But Kelly, on the other hand, had clenched her fists, looking like she might explode.
"You have some nerve, Elizabeth. My mother warned me about you.
Told me what kind of woman you are and always reminded me to watch my back.
If she didn't think my husband was the kindest, most loving man.
.. well, she would have told me to run."
"Watch your tongue, young lady," Elizabeth said, taking a step back. "Are you threatening me in a room full of witnesses? In front of my lawyer? Tsk, tsk. Not a good idea."
Kelly jumped to her feet, but Grant was already up, curling his fingers around his wife's forearm. "Sweetheart, not the time or place. Ignore her."
Kelly eased back into her seat, holding onto Grant like he was a flotation device, and she was drowning.
Chad had been hanging back near the door, but now he stepped forward. "Elizabeth, maybe you should wait outside. I need to talk to Erin about representation."
"Leave," Erin said, her voice tight with controlled anger. "Your girlfriend is waiting in the car. I'm sure she needs your attention."
Chad's jaw tightened. "I'm here as your lawyer. You should be thanking me for—"
"For what?" Her voice rose, drawing stares from other tables. "For coming home whenever it's convenient? For pretending to care about your family when you have other priorities? Do you even know where the kids and I spent last night?"
Chad moved toward her, reaching for her arm, but Grant was on his feet again in a flash. "Get your hands off my sister."
Bryson stood too, stepping closer. "Not my sister, but what he said."
"What are you two? Best friends all of a sudden?" With a scowl twisting his features, Chad glanced between them with what looked like fear behind his eyes.