Public Secrets

remembered. “I took lessons awhile, but they gave me up as hopeless. I play the harmonica some, though.”
“Why don’t you get Michael a Coke, Emma?” Brian dropped to the arm of a chair, gesturing to the couch. The glint of his wedding ring caught a sliver of light. “Have a seat.”
“I don’t want to interrupt your work.”
“We live to be interrupted,” Johnno told him, mellowing the sarcasm with a smile. “What’d you think of the song?”
“It was great. Everything you do is great.”
Johnno’s brow lifted not so much in sarcasm now as amusement. “Here’s a smart boy, Bri. Maybe we should keep him.”
Michael grinned, unsure if he should be embarrassed. “No, really. I like all your stuff.”
“Not into disco?”
“Disco sucks.”
“A very smart boy,” Johnno decided. “So how’d you come to meet our Emma on the beach?” He continued talking, knowing Brian needed another moment to adjust.

“She had a little trouble with a wave and I helped her out.” He breezed over the incident with the skill of a teenager used to outwitting adults. “She’s got pretty good form, Mr. McAvoy. Just needs more practice.”
Brian managed another smile and toyed with his warm lemonade. “You surf a lot?”
“Every chance I get.”
“How’s your father?”
“He’s cool. He’s a captain now.”
“I’d heard. You must be out of high school by now.”
“Yes, sir. I graduated in June.”
“Going on?”
“Well, yeah. I thought I’d give college a shot. My father’s counting on it.”
Johnno pulled out his cigarettes, carelessly offering one to Michael. He took it, and the first pull of the strong, exotic smoke had his stomach bouncing. “So,” Johnno asked, mildly amused, “do you plan to follow in your father’s flat feet? Isn’t that what they call cops?” he continued. “Flat foots?”
“Oh.” Michael tried another small, experimental puff on the Gauloise. “I don’t think I’m cut out to be a cop. Dad, he’s great at it. Patient, you know. Like with your son’s case. He worked on that for years, even after the department closed the files.” He caught himself, appalled that he’d brought it up. “He’s like, dedicated,” he finished weakly.
“Yes, he is.” More at ease, Brian smiled the charming, heartwarming smile that made his fans love him. He wished he’d added rum to the lemonade. “You’ll give him my best, won’t you?”
“Sure.” It was with great relief that Michael saw Emma bringing in cold drinks on a tray.
An hour later, Emma walked him back to his car. “I want to thank you for not telling Da how stupid I was today.”
“No big deal.”
“Yes, it was. He gets … upset.” She gazed out to the high stone walls that surrounded the estate. Wherever she went there were walls. “I think he’d put me in a bubble if he could.”
The urge to touch her hair was so strong, so unexpected, that he’d lifted his hand before he caught himself and brushed it through his own. “It must be tough, with what happened to your brother and everything.”
“He’s always afraid, afraid someone will try to take me, too.”
“Aren’t you?”

“No. I don’t think so. The guards are always there, so I’ve never had a chance to be, really.”
He hesitated, one hand on the door handle. It wasn’t like he was stuck on her or anything, he told himself. She was just a kid. “Maybe I’ll see you at the beach tomorrow.”
A woman’s heart fluttered in her young chest. “Maybe.”
“I could give you some pointers on the board—you know, help you with your form.”
“That would be great.”
He got in, fiddling with the keys before starting the engine. “Thanks for the Coke and everything. It was really far out getting to meet your dad again and all.”
“Any time. Goodbye, Michael.”
“Yeah, See you.” He drove down the tree-lined drive, nearly steering onto the lawn because he was watching her in the rear-view mirror.

H E WENT BACK to the beach every day, but he never saw her there again that summer.

Chapter Fifteen

T HEY HAD AN hour before bed check. An hour before Sister Immaculata shuffled her way down the halls in her black, sensible shoes to poke her disapproving, warty nose in each of the rooms to make sure all music was off and clothes were neatly hung in closets.
They had an hour, and Emma was afraid it was going to be enough time.
“Are they numb yet?”
“I don’t think so.”
Marianne narrowed her eyes as she tapped her foot along with her