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but…“What
    were you doing all the way up in Peter’s neighborhood?”
    Wesley looked pained. “I rode up there to get in a card
    game. Sorry. The good news is that after playing all night, I
    broke even.”
    Carlotta pursed her mouth, even more suspicious now that
    he so readily admitted to going back on his promise to her
    not to gamble. She looked at Peter, who seemed to be
    looking everywhere but at her. She glanced at Jack, whose
    expression told her he didn’t believe Wesley’s story any
    more than she did. Then he shrugged, obviously wil ing to
    forget the entire incident.
    She was irritated with the lot of them. “We’l talk later,”
    she muttered to Wesley. “Meanwhile, you need to call
    Coop, who was out all night hunting for you, and your
    probation officer.”
    “Okay,” he said. Then he went over to shake Peter’s hand.
    “Thanks, man.”
    “No problem.”
    Okay, now she was real y suspicious. Peter and her brother
    barely knew each other, but Wesley had never bothered
    to hide his disdain for Peter’s actions when their parents
    left, dumping her and leaving her in the lurch. On the
    other hand, she had told him about their father calling
    Peter, so maybe Wesley had warmed toward her former
    fiancé. Or maybe he’d ridden to Peter’s house to talk
    about the phone call….
    Wesley disappeared into the house, taking his secrets with
    him for the time being. Hannah gave them a group wave.
    “Since the prodigal son has returned, I’m outta here.”
    “Thanks, Hannah, for staying with me,” Carlotta said to her
    friend. “I’ll cal you.”
    After Hannah pul ed away in her van, Carlotta was left
    standing between Jack and Peter, each of whom seemed
    to be waiting for the other to leave.
    “I need to talk to you,” Jack said to her pointedly. When
    Peter gave him a hard look, he added, “It’s business.”
    “Can’t it wait?” she asked, not in the mood for more
    sparring. “No.”
    Peter shuffled his feet. “I guess I’l be going.”
    “I’l walk with you,” Carlotta said, then fol owed him
    around to the driver’s side of the SUV, giving them some
    privacy from Jack.
    “Peter,” she said quietly. “What really happened?”
    “It happened just the way Wesley explained.” But his blue
    eyes were evasive, his tone practiced.
    Her heart swel ed with gratitude. “I have a feeling that I
    owe you a great debt.”
    “You don’t owe me anything,” Peter said, taking her good
    hand and lifting it to his mouth for a kiss that conjured up
    images of other things he used to do to her when they
    were younger. “I’l always be here for you, Carly, and for
    Wesley.”
    “Thank you,” she murmured. When Wesley had gone
    missing, it hadn’t even occurred to her to call Peter. In
    fact, she’d gone out of her way to conceal most of the
    Wren family doings from him. She didn’t want him to
    know that the warning his parents had given him ten years
    ago—that her family would go to the dogs—had pretty
    much happened.
    “Don’t forget that I’m holding something for you.”
    The ring. “I won’t forget.” And her heart was so ful of
    good memories and goodwil toward Peter for helping
    Wesley, she would have agreed to marry him at that
    moment if he’d asked.
    Instead he honored her previous request not to rush her,
    and climbed in his vehicle. She waved until the car
    disappeared, then turned back to Jack, whose disposition
    seemed to have further soured.
    “What did you need to talk about?” she asked. “If it’s
    about Wesley, I don’t believe his story for a minute—”
    “It’s about your father,” he interrupted.
    Her heart stuttered. “What about him?”
    “A Holiday Inn in Daytona Beach, Florida, was robbed at
    gunpoint a few days ago. When all the fingerprints were
    run, one set matched up to Randolph Wren.”
    Her entire body tingled. She shook her head in confusion.
    “What are you saying? That my dad robbed this hotel?”
    “No. All I’m saying is