More than fifteen years had passed since Jack had set foot in his childhood home. He’d moved out shortly after his mom died. He’d been to Josh’s place next door a few times, but he’d turned down all of his father’s invitations for holidays and birthdays over the years.

Josh answered the door and let him in. Jack stole a glance to try and assess how his brother was feeling. Josh was unshaven and looked tired, and his expression was grim but resolved. He wore an untucked flannel shirt and jeans and seemed entirely at home.

Jack, on the other hand, felt extremely out of place.

Stepping inside, he was startled by how different the interior of the house looked. He’d half-expected everything would be the same as when he’d left, frozen in time, and that he’d be flooded with memories of growing up in the familiar environment. He’d expected there would still be wood paneling in the den, Berber hide-the-dirt carpet throughout, oak cabinets in the kitchen, maybe even the faint smell of spaghetti sauce, which had been a weekly staple—but his dad had knocked down walls and turned the downstairs into an open-concept floorplan in the process. Jack was surprised to see that Bruce’s tastes ran to the modern.

“Wow,” Jack said, handing Josh his coat. The kitchen had sleek dark wood cabinets and a steel countertop, light walls, and contemporary, well-chosen furnishings. “Did he design all this by himself?”

“He did it while I was overseas, but I think he hired a designer. He did a lot of the physical work himself, though,” Josh said. “It’s been his retirement hobby, that and managing the kennel.” Josh was referring to the sled dog kennel he’d recently shut down and which Bruce had managed for him. “He’s even got in-floor radiant heating. You should take off your boots—it’s heaven.”

Jack did, and as his wool-socked feet hit the floor, he smiled. “Remember how it was always so drafty when we were growing up?”

“Oh, yeah. We had single-paned windows for too damned long.”

“I don’t know why, but I expected everything to be the same as when I left,” Jack said. “It’s disconcerting to see it so different.”

Josh shrugged. “Life goes on, you know? Come on into the kitchen. I’ve got coffee on.”

“Where’s Dad?”

“He just woke up. He’ll be out in a minute.”

“Claire’s on her way,” Jack said, a hard knot in his stomach in expectation of the tough conversation ahead. He’d gone to Claire’s house earlier, explained the whole situation to her, and asked for help. She’d been furious with Bruce, less so with Jack. Thankfully, in spite of her anger, she was willing to do what she could to steer the situation toward the best possible outcome. “She said she was going to see the Armstrongs first and get a sense of what needs to happen from their perspective.”

“Do you think they’re going to cause problems?” Josh asked, his brown eyes dark and troubled.

“They have every right to,” Jack said, thinking of Elizabeth and the things she’d said to him at the police station. “And I’ve heard Nate can be a real hothead.”

“Yeah, as evidenced by Dad’s bashed-in face,” Josh said wryly.

“Anyway,” Jack said, “where’s Hayley?”

“I thought I’d spare her.”

“Probably a good idea,” Jack said. He reminded himself that Josh and Hayley’s relationship was still quite new. They’d committed to each other in December, and it wasn’t even Valentine’s Day yet.

Valentine’s Day.

Jack felt a pang just thinking about it. Because of his previous tendency to restrict his relationships to women he met while traveling, he’d never had much reason to express romantic gestures, but at heart, he was a romantic guy. He would have loved to celebrate Valentine’s Day with Elizabeth. He would have taken her somewhere fancy for dinner—the Pioneer Hotel, maybe, or the new contemporary Asian restaurant overlooking the river. He would have plied her with chocolates and treated her to a massage and made her breakfast in bed. Or maybe he would have surprised her with a quick trip to somewhere sunny; he wanted to be the one to bring some sunshine into Elizabeth’s life.

Bruce came into the kitchen just as Josh was pouring the coffee. Bruce’s face was ugly-bruised and chagrined, with a large white bandage covering most of his nose.

“Hi, Jack,” Bruce said.

“Hi, Dad.”

All three Barnes men took their coffee black, and all three were silent, taking small sips, no one speaking or knowing what to say.

When the doorbell rang, Jack was relieved for the broken silence. He met Claire Roberts at the door.

“How did things go at the Armstrongs?” he asked, thinking only of Elizabeth.

“Things went as expected,” she said, removing her outer garments. “Naturally, they’re very upset, and if it were up to Nate alone, your father would be looking at … well, I don’t know what he’d be looking at—drawing and quartering, maybe? You’re extremely fortunate that Elizabeth and Emmett have level heads, or I expect this would be going in a far different direction.”

“How’s Elizabeth?” Jack asked.

“She’s a fine young woman, as I’m sure you know,” Claire said.

He nodded vigorously. “I do.”

They walked together into the house, and Claire continued speaking. “Elizabeth’s got the kind of strength that comes only from enduring hardship, and the kind of decency that comes only from having been treated indecently for much of her life. I think we both know who’s responsible for that.”

She slid a vexed look toward Bruce, who sat at the kitchen counter with his head hung low.

Claire’s eyes were cold when she turned back to Jack. “Having said that, it’s clear she’s been crying her eyes out for days.”

“I own that,” said Jack, feeling awful.

Claire’s look was sharp. “Yes, you do.”

They went to the kitchen, and Jack could hardly stand to watch as Bruce and Claire looked at each other. The two had known each other since childhood; as adults, she’d been on the city council that unanimously promoted him to be the chief of police.

“Hi, Claire,” he said.

“Bruce.” Her voice was thick with anger. “I was astonished when Jack told me what happened. What you did. You’ve played this entire community for fools, and I can’t remember ever being so disappointed in someone.”

Bruce nodded that he understood.

“People revere you!” she continued. “They think you’re the most honest, ethical police chief this city has ever seen.”

“I was honest and ethical as police chief,” Bruce said. “Ever since Helena died, I’ve spent my entire life trying to make up for what I did.”

“You also spent your entire life trying to make sure no one ever found out what you did,” Claire said, her voice rising. “How convenient it must have been to be the chief of police all the way through when the statute of limitations expired. I’ll bet you made sure no one ever tried to get to the bottom of the missing money, didn’t you?”

Bruce didn’t reply, merely gave a miserable half-nodded. Jack could feel his father’s anguish.

Claire looked like she had a lot more she wanted to say, but she pressed her lips together and shook her head in exasperation. “Well, the word of the day is restitution,” she said. “You will make restitution to the city for the money you stole, and you’ll pay it back with interest. This decision isn’t open for negotiation—if you don’t, we’ll sue you.”

“He doesn’t have that kind of money,” Josh said.

“He’s got equity in this house. I’m sure he has some savings, and we can work out a plan for him to pay the remainder over time from the pension he would never have gotten if we’d known what he did. The way I see it, Bruce, your entire salary all those years constituted theft because you should have been in jail for your crime, not running the police department. So you stole far more than half a million dollars from my point of view, and if we go to court, that’s what our lawyers will argue. Do you want to take a chance like that?”

“Dad?” Jack said. “What are you thinking?”

“It’s okay,” Bruce said, looking around at the house he’d called home for nearly forty years. “I think that’s fair. I’ll sell everything and leave town and finally close this chapter of my life.” He must have seen the same look of devastation on Josh’s face that Jack did because he patted his youngest son on the arm. “You know I’ve been intending to spend more time in Florida with my grandkids. Maggie even checked out some little apartment homes while she was down there over Thanksgiving so she could give me an idea of what’s available. This is not a bad thing, Josh. Not a bad thing at all. I don’t need much to live on. My needs are simple, and I’ll get a job if I have to. A few hours a week at a hardware store would be just fine by me. Claire, I accept your offer.”

“It’s not my offer,” she said. “I’m going to introduce this deal and the terms of repayment as a city council resolution, and it will go into the public record. I’m also recommending a formal censure against you and an exoneration of Nate Armstrong from any suspicion of the theft. Finally, the one condition Nate has is that you issue him a personal and formal public apology. I’ve suggested, and he agreed, it should occur at the same city council meeting.”

Public humiliation.

“We’ll be right there with you, Dad,” Jack said. “Josh will be on one side of you, and I’ll be on the other.”

“You boys are better than I ever was,” Bruce said.

“No one can deny that,” Claire said with a twist of her mouth.

“I don’t think my father should have to go before the council,” Josh said. “He can offer his apology in writing.”

“No, son,” Bruce said. “This will be one of the hardest things I ever do, but I won’t slink out of town like a beaten-down old dog. I want to apologize to Nate; I’ve wanted to do so for all these years. If apologizing in front of the city council is what he needs, that’s what I’ll do—especially if you and Jack are by my side.”

“I guess we’re all set, then,” Claire said. “I’ll be in touch later with all the particulars.”

“Will Nate be staying in town, then?” Bruce asked. “There’ll be no need for him to leave now, once the truth comes out.”

“My understanding is that he’s still planning on moving because he wants that fresh start,” Claire said. “But he’s welcome back anytime.”

“Unlike me,” Bruce said.

“I hope someday I can find it in my heart to forgive you, Bruce,” Claire said. “But in the meantime, no, you’re not welcome.”

Jack felt another pang of sympathy for his dad at this end of a lifelong friendship.

“I’ll walk you to the door,” he said to Claire. “Thank you for your help with all this.” He helped her on with her coat, and she paused before leaving.

“Elizabeth was adamant that your role in what happened stays quiet,” she said. “She doesn’t want your career prospects threatened by your … complicity. Myself, I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”

“I agree with you,” Jack said, although touched by Elizabeth’s graciousness. Her concern for him also ignited a flare of hardly-dared-for hope. “I have no intention of trying to take the easy way out. At this point in my life, I’d rather people hate me for who I am than love me for who I’m not.”

“I’m glad you feel that way,” Claire said. “I believe most people will forgive you in the end.”

“I hope so,” Jack said. “But there’s only one person whose forgiveness really matters to me, and that’s Elizabeth.”