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the pub as fast as he’d entered it, Luke had zipped his emotions deep inside and focused on practical matters instead. But at night the memories had come out to taunt him.
    Adele spoke into the silence. “You said you wanted to go over information about the pub.”
    “That’s right.”
    “Look . . .” She twisted her fingers awkwardly. “I, uh, I know you and your dad never got along. And I feel badly for not saying anything about the situation when you were a kid. But I was raised not to stick my nose into other folks’ business, you know? So I looked the other way when I saw the way your dad treated you those times he thought no one was around. Maybe I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know. I’ve never said anything to another soul, and I never will. I just wanted you to know that . . . I guess just that I wish things had been different.”
    Her words had caught him totally by surprise. He didn’t think anyone knew what had been going on. He wasn’t sure that her knowing was a good thing. The bottom line was that it didn’t change anything. “The past is gone. My only concern now is the present.”
    “So you’ve come back?”
    Luke nodded. He would have loved to have added, I’ve got to stay here for six months before I can sell this place .
    But the terms of his father’s will were clear. He had to run Maguire’s Pub for six months and not tell anyone that he wasn’t back for keeps. If he did, he’d lose it all.
    “I never thought I’d see this day,” Adele noted.
    “You and most of the folks in this town.”
    “Don’t be angry with them. They had no idea how things really were. I’m sure even I only had a glimpse of how bad things got.”
    Luke hated this. Hated talking about this stuff. Hated remembering anything to do with this place.
    But he’d lived through worse. He’d survive this, too. And then take the money and run.
    “Here’s a pile of mail I kept aside for you.” Adele handed it to him. “I’ve been paying the bills out of the business account since your dad’s death. I was actually doing most of that, the bill-paying, before he had his heart attack.”
    Luke looked over the account books Adele showed him, wishing he’d paid more attention to those damn math classes in school.
    When she left him alone with the paperwork, his thoughts wandered. He’d called the meeting with Adele here, in the two-bedroom apartment above the pub where he’d grown up. There was nothing left from his old bedroom, which was now a home office with a table and a computer. And a depository for the beer can collection. His dad’s pride and joy.
    Luke had packed them all up last night. No way was he looking at those. Or the talking mackerel hanging on the living room wall. They had to go.
    He’d used a dozen boxes from the pub’s storeroom, dropping stuff in as fast as he could. And he’d called a charity first thing this morning to come pick up most of the furniture.
    It was bad enough stepping into his father’s shoes at Maguire’s. No way was he sleeping in his bed.
    Luke had actually spent much of the night sitting out on the metal fire escape, like he had as a kid. He’d covered a lot of ground since leaving town. He’d joined the Marine Corps right after high school and had gone into the Special Forces as a Force Recon Marine.
    After that, he’d eventually ended up as a Special Agent in the FBI, where he’d gone undercover so many times he’d lost himself. And maybe that was no great loss, but it left him with a raw emptiness inside that ate away at him.
    Luke had been good at what he did. Too good. He’d started thinking like the people he was infiltrating. The lines between black and white, good and bad became blurred. To keep his cover, he’d had to do things that seared his soul until, burnt-out and broke, he’d had to leave.
    Yeah, he was a real success story all right.
    Enough wallowing in his past. Luke gathered up his empty coffee mug and headed downstairs to the