Chapter 20: Table One

The Dayton Hotel ballroom had two chandeliers, twenty round tables and a banner across the stage in gold letters.

Arbogast Wealth Partners. Ten Years of Trust.

I stood in the doorway in my mother's green dress with Nolan's arm under my hand.

He wore a charcoal suit he had borrowed from the funeral director in Russells Point, and he had refused to let me straighten his tie.

On my other side, Grandma Ardis leaned on her cane and looked at the room.

"Gaudy," she said. "Is the bar free?"

"It's free, Grandma."

"Good. Then I'll behave."

Behind us, in the lobby, Alana waited with the lawyer and a plainclothes deputy I had last seen in Grandma's lane.

The deputy gave me a very small nod.

Nolan's arm tightened.

"Last chance," he said, low. "Car's by the door. He'll put that photograph on the screen."

"Let him. I'd like them to see who I kissed."

"Keeley."

"Walk."

We walked.

It started at the nearest table.

A woman in a sequined jacket turned to see who had come in, and her glass stopped halfway to her mouth.

Then the next table turned, and the next.

I heard my own name travel through the room.

Keeley, that's Keeley.

She's up, she's walking.

Oh, thank God, the poor thing.

Beside the stage, Corbin stood with a flute of champagne and two men in dark suits.

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