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enough—to deal with this.
    There was so much to say, so much he didn’t know, and she wasn’t sure how to stick to the Chris-related parts. “I don’t know anything. Where it happened, or how, or where he is now. Your parents are with Jessica. She’s in bad shape.”
    “Of course she is,” Brady murmured, the words thick with sympathy.
    Molly hated the twinge of jealous annoyance that generated. This was not the time, for God’s sake. But she’d known all along where Brady’s focus would go. He’d need an outlet for his own grief, and Jessica needed him. Molly would be on the outside. Again.
    It’s not about me . She forced herself to continue. “No one would tell them where you were or how to get in touch with you. Your parents didn’t want you to hear the news from a stranger.”
    He shifted and reached for her hand, his head coming up so his hazel eyes, now a desolate gray-blue, met hers knowingly. “ You didn’t want that. I can calculate travel times, Moll. You were on your way here as soon as you heard and knew I was out of touch.”
    She shrugged a little, not sure what to say.
    “Thank you.” He took a deep breath and wrapped his arms around her. She closed her eyes and clung to him, feeling his body shudder.
    After a few seconds he pulled away. “I know there’s a lot more to this. You have a lot of questions to answer. But we need to get home.”
    “Yes. They need you.”
    “Us. They need us.”
    She didn’t dispute his assertion, but she wasn’t part of the family anymore. She was a friend. One who could help them, but only on the fringes. When they got back she’d be shuffling condolence casseroles, making funeral arrangements, ensuring everyone ate and slept and took their medications. She didn’t mind that. She wanted to do those things, but couldn’t help feeling it was inadequate, that they needed, and that she could do, so much more. But that was probably just because of the lack of answers.
    “Let’s go.” He took her arm, started out of the alcove, then stopped again. “Wait. Dammit. I have a meet. I should keep it.”
    She frowned. “Your parents need you home.”
    His jaw flexed. “I know. But this is important, and a lot of effort will have been wasted if I don’t make this last meet. It won’t take long.”
    She wasn’t going to be able to convince him otherwise. “When?”
    He glanced at his watch, swiping away the rain that beaded on its face. “An hour.”
    “Okay. That won’t significantly hold us up. I can go gather your stuff and meet you. Airport?”
    He thought a second, then shook his head. “No. Here.” He hunched over a small pad he pulled from his jacket’s inside pocket, writing down information with a tiny pen. “The first address is my hotel and room number. Everything’s in the closet.” He hesitated like he was going to tell her something else, but continued, “The second address is where to meet me. I’ll have a car there. We’ll drive to the next city. It’s about two hours away, but we can get more direct flights from there. It’ll be faster overall.”
    “Okay.” She took the paper and shoved it into her pocket, though she’d memorized the addresses as he wrote them. “Be careful.”
    “I will. You, too. This country—”
    “I know.” She hugged him, then even harder, betraying her worry over his meet. “How long before you’re done?”
    “The meet itself should be quick. So give me an hour and a half.”
    “And if you don’t show up, take off without you?” It was a lame, half-hearted joke, and he didn’t smile…or answer.
    Walking away from him felt like ripping out part of her heart. But she focused on her tasks.
    His hotel was small but high-end, the concierge eyeing her suspiciously when she entered the front door. She waved the key card Brady had given her, and he nodded, looking appeased. In a place like this, she hated being cornered in an elevator, so she took the stairs up one flight to Brady’s floor.