Possess

brushed the back of her hand, then slowly, purposefully, slipped his fingers between her palm and the chair. She gave way to the pressure and released her death grip as Matt’s fingers laced between hers. Strong. He felt strong. Like someone she could finally lean on. She dropped her head as her eyes started to tear up.
    “See, Mom?” Sammy had his left hand shoved into the brand-new baseball mitt. He reached his arm up like he was catching a fly ball in center field. “See? Matt says it’s the same kind the pros wear.”
    Her mom cleared her throat. “That’s lovely, Sammy. Now finish your—”
    The doorbell pealed through the house.
    “Who could that be?” her mom said. Bridget noticed that all the color had drained from her mom’s face.
    “Shall I get it?” Sergeant Quinn asked, half rising from his seat.
    “No, no, Stephen. It’s fine.” Her mom stood up and excused herself. Beneath the table, Matt gave her hand a squeeze.
    “I’m so sorry to bother you, Annie,” a voice rang out from the hall. Hugh Darlington.
    “Oh, no, Hugh. It’s fine.” This time Bridget was amused to watch Sergeant Quinn fidget in his chair.
    “I was hoping you might have time to discuss the endowment I’m making in David’s name.”
    “Actually, we’re just finishing up dinner.”
    “I can wait in the downstairs office until you’re done,” Mr. Darlington said insistently.
    With an audible grunt, Sergeant Quinn pushed himself to his feet and strode through the swinging door into the entryway.
    “Sergeant Quinn,” Mr. Darlington said. “I didn’t realize you were here.”
    “It’s a bad time, Darlington,” Sergeant Quinn said. His voice sounded cold and professional. “Maybe you could come back tomorrow.”
    “I’m afraid,” Mr. Darlington said, sounding very self-important, “that it cannot wait.”
    “I’m afraid,” Sergeant Quinn said in a tone that made Bridget’s hair stand on end, “it’ll have to.”
    “How often is he here?” Matt whispered. He sounded uneasy.
    “All the time,” Sammy blurted out through a mouthful of mashed potatoes. “But not as much as your dad.” Sammy grinned, exposing rows of potato-covered teeth, while Matt stared at his plate, aimlessly pushing bits of food around.
    “I’m sorry, Hugh,” her mom said. “Can we talk tomorrow?”
    There was a pause, and though she couldn’t see them, Bridget pictured the tall, solid frame of Sergeant Quinn and the shrewd, handsome face of Mr. Darlington, staring each other down in the entryway.
    “Fine,” Mr. Darlington said at last. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow, Annie. Have a lovely evening.” Another pause. “Good night, Stephen. I’m sure we’ll talk soon.” Then the door clicked shut.
    It was a full two minutes before her mom and Sergeant Quinn reentered the dining room. Bridget wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know what happened during the interim.
    Her mom came in first, with slightly puffy eyes. She immediately began clearing plates even though no one was done. Only Sammy complained.
    “Mom,” he said, snatching his plate away.
    Her mom sighed.
    Sammy jumped on the opportunity. “Can I watch TV while I finish?”
    “Sure.” Bridget’s mom never gave up that easily. The confrontation between the two men in her life must have taken all the fight out of her.
    “Come on.” Bridget tugged on Matt’s sleeve.
    “Hmm?” he asked absently, like he was just coming out of a trance.
    “Mom, we’re going to do homework in my room, okay?”
    “Homework.” Her mom plopped down in a chair and stared out the back window. “Sure.”

Twenty-Nine
    M ATT FOLLOWED HER DOWN THE hall to her room, and it wasn’t until the door clicked shut that he seemed to snap out of his stupor.
    “Shutting me in?” he smirked.
    “Shutting them out.” Did he notice the tremor in her voice? She couldn’t help it with him in her room and their parents down the hall, completely absorbed in their own drama.
    They stared at each other. Matt was suddenly shy, and Bridget couldn’t decide whether she wanted him to kiss her again or just go back to the way he’d been earlier in the day when they drove up to Geyserville: silent and strong.
    Geyserville. That’s right. There was a reason why she’d invited Matt over in the first place. She spun around and opened her closet door, pushing the clothes aside as far as they would go.
    “The closet?” Matt laughed. “Really?”
    “Shut it, perv.” Bridget smiled. She