If I Can't Let Go. Beth Kery

in his intensity.

      A thick silence settled. Natalie resumed eating as well, even though her taste buds didn’t seem to be working any longer. Liam had undoubtedly remembered the purpose of their meeting wasn’t fun and laughter. It wasn’t as if they were old school friends or lovers. No, they were members of two families with a shared history of tragedy and strife who had joined together, albeit warily, for a very somber mission.

      Natalie was glad Liam must have realized that as they sat together, eating dinner while rain spattered on the windows.

      She’d do well to recall the same.

      The rainstorm blew out as quickly as it had rolled in. By the time Liam had loaded the dishwasher and Natalie had straightened the counters, the sun was poking through the clouds, making the wet rocks on the beach and breakwater gleam.

      The uncomfortable tension that had settled between them had never really faded while they finished their meal. Natalie found herself longing for escape. She was about to tell Liam she needed to stop by her office to see to a few important items when Liam shut the dishwasher and stood to his full height.

      “Now that the rain stopped, let’s go out on the terrace. I’ll tell you the other thing that might—” he threw her a warning glance “—or might not, be important.”

      “Okay,” Natalie said, her curiosity piqued, despite his attempt at downplaying things.

      The lounge chairs were still beaded with raindrops so Liam and Natalie remained standing, both of them gazing out at the lake which was mostly gray except where shards of sunlight created bands of light blue. The quick storm had brought a drop in temperature. A breeze off the lake caused Natalie to shiver. She rubbed her hands up and down her bare arms to warm herself, all the while noticing that Liam seemed unaffected. He stared out at the lake, his arms crossed below his chest, his bold profile fixed and thoughtful.

      “I guess you probably know that my dad was at the Silver Dunes Country Club bar before the accident.”

      “Yes,” Natalie said softly, aware of the sensitivity of the topic. “The Club was investigated for overserving him.”

      “The club was cleared of that charge,” Liam said. “My father had several drinks there, but witnesses and the bartender said he didn’t appear drunk, just quiet. Sullen.” He glanced swiftly over at her. “The Silver Dunes had a video camera mounted over the bar. The film was used to investigate whether or not the bartender or the Silver Dunes had any culpability in my dad’s intoxication and allowing him to get behind the wheel of a car that night.”

      “Your father’s insurance company’s attorneys used the video in the hearings as well,” Natalie added in a hushed tone.

      Liam nodded, his expression rocklike. “Right. The insurance company tried to use the tape to say it wasn’t possible that my dad was as intoxicated as the suit suggested, and therefore was not as reckless as was alleged. The bartender served him three drinks in the span of an hour and a half. Not ideal, but not enough to make a six-foot-four-inch, nearly two hundred pound man looped out of his mind. But the lab reports don’t lie. If my father hadn’t gotten tanked at the Silver Dunes Country Club that night, he’d poured enough booze down his throat later on to get a platoon ripped.”

      Natalie closed her eyes briefly when she heard his bitterness.

      “Where’s that video now? Does it still exist?” she asked breathlessly.

      “It exists. I just found out for sure this morning. I have a couple of friends who work for the Michigan State Police. The videotape is still catalogued in evidence storage.”