Cover-Up. Ruth Langan

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      All that was missing to complete this cozy picture, Emily thought with a quick flash of pain, was her father. When she’d left Devil’s Cove to pursue a medical career at University Hospital, he’d been so proud that one of his children was following in his footsteps. It had never occurred to her that he wouldn’t be around for years to offer sage advice.

      Emily had thought her days in her grandparents’ house, like those of her three sisters, would consist mainly of occasional visits. Yet here she was keeping a deathbed promise to her father to carry on his practice until a replacement could be found, and living once again in her childhood home.

      It hadn’t been easy giving up her hard-won independence. Still, her family seemed to understand, and worked hard at giving her the space she needed to make the adjustment.

      Her grandfather looked up from the grill. “Emily, we could use those fine surgeon’s hands to fillet this salmon.”

      That brought a round of laughter from the others.

      Though Frank Brennan had traded in his judicial robes for a golf shirt and casual slacks more than a dozen years ago, he still had a commanding courtroom presence, which he used to his advantage whenever it suited him.

      Emily joined in the laughter. “I always knew my medical training would come in handy for something, Poppie.” Her childhood nickname for him rolled easily off her tongue.

      “That’s my girl.” He brushed a kiss over Emily’s cheek as she picked up a knife and neatly sliced through the fish.

      He arranged the fillets on the grill and was rewarded by the hiss and snap of the fire as they began to cook.

      “Trudy,” he bellowed, and turned to find their housekeeper standing right behind him. “Why do you always sneak up on me like that?”

      “I don’t sneak.” Trudy Carpenter was as wide as she was tall, with big capable hands and a voice, after a lifetime of smoking three packs a day, that sounded like a rusty hinge. Her face was deeply lined, her hair the color and texture of cotton balls.

      His tone was accusing. “You blindsided me.”

      “Easy enough to do, since you never look before hollering.” The old woman sniffed and held out a tray of glasses. “Judge, Miss Bert says you’re to drink a tall glass of water before lunch.”

      “Let Bert drink the water.” He picked up a tumbler of his favorite Scotch and winked at his granddaughter before lifting it to his lips.

      “Beats me why you always try to fight it.” Emily gave him a quick nudge with her elbow. This was an argument these old people had been waging for a lifetime. One they seemed to thoroughly enjoy. “You’ll just have to drink the water later.”

      “Later is better than now.” He grinned. “I’ll have food in my stomach later.”

      Overhearing him, Hannah gave a throaty laugh. “You’d better hope you never have to give Poppie any medicine, Em. If you think he’s finicky about water, wait till you see him try to swallow something nasty.”

      Emily grinned. “I’ll make sure it’s cherry-flavored, like the medicine we give the children.”

      “That’ll work,” his wife called from across the patio. “Since he’s just a big kid at heart.”

      “And you like me that way, Bert.” He blew her a kiss before turning the salmon, all the while muttering that he needed to invent a better spatula.

      His family had no doubt that would be his next project.

      When the fish was ready, he transferred it to a platter and the family took their places around the glass-topped table. Frank Brennan was in his favorite wicker chair, sporting the contented look he always wore when surrounded by his women. His handsome Irish face was deeply creased with laugh lines. His lion’s mane of white hair showed off his ruddy complexion, made even deeper by the summer sun.

      His wife was seated at the other end of the table, her soft cap of gray curls dancing in the breeze that perpetually blew off the waters of Lake Michigan.

      Charley sat on one side of the table, between Hannah and Courtney, while Emily and Sidney sat across from them.

      Emily passed a basket of rolls to her grandmother. “I still can’t believe your retirement party is this week. Are you ready for your big kickoff night?”

      “Probably more so than you. I hear the tribute committee has been pestering you with calls all morning.”

      Emily sighed. “Now I know why they asked me to be the chairman of this tribute. Every time they need something done, they call their chairman and dump it all in my lap.”

      Hannah looked around the table and grinned. “That’s because you have Sucker written on your forehead.”

      Emily joined in the laughter at her expense and accepted a piece of salmon, then held the platter while her grandmother selected one for herself. “I didn’t have a clue what I was signing up for.”

      “It’ll soon be over and you can get back to a normal life.” Frank took a taste of salmon. Pleased with his efforts, he tucked into his meal.

      “I have a bit of news.” Charley paused to glance at her family. “You know the developer that bought that last big chunk of Prentice Osborn’s lakeside property?”

      The others nodded.

      “The rumors were all true. The town council approved his plan to build homes and condominiums around a world-class golf course, yacht club, restaurants and shops.” She paused a beat before saying softly, “My agency will be representing it.”

      “Oh, Mom.” Hannah gave her mother a fierce hug, before Courtney pressed a kiss to her mother’s cheek.

      Sidney and Emily were on their feet and racing around the table to do the same.

      “Christopher would be so proud of you, Charley.” Frank lifted his glass in a salute and the others joined him.

      Charley glanced at her daughters. “Actually this development has been a boon for all the Brennans. The architect’s interior designer has already given Courtney a list of some of the things he’ll be wanting for the models. And when he saw some of Sidney’s work, he decided to commission her to paint a mural on the walls of the foyer. There’s talk of having her do the ceiling of the dining room as well.”

      At the news, Sidney beamed. “Mom, are you sure?”

      Charley grinned at the sweet redhead who had always been the dreamy artist in the family. Since losing her young fiancé to illness two years earlier, she’d become even more introverted and reclusive. Though her family was concerned, they knew she had to work through the grief in her own time.

      “I’m sure. And I’m sure whatever you paint will be the talk of the town.” She sipped her lemonade before adding, “On top of that, Hannah has been given the contract for all the landscaping.”

      Her grandfather arched a brow at his granddaughter. “That ought to pay your greenhouse loan for a year or two.”

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