(See the first chapter for disclaimer, notes, spoiler, etc.)

Chapter Sixteen: "I'm Trying"

Morris

"Man, how does that even make sense? I'm going to need you to explain that to me."

Next to him, Rebecca took a deep breath and nodded. A moment later, a stream of rapid-fire Italian tumbled out of her mouth, rising in pitch as she translated his question. It was his luck, he supposed, that the one police officer who didn't speak much English in Florence was the one assigned to Gregory and Olivia's car accident. Sergeant Angelo Gori. It had taken days for him to get Gori on the phone. Apparently, he spent a lot of time in the field. Doing what, God only knew.

He shook his head, hearing Gori's reply but unable to understand a single word. The keyboard of the laptop clicked as Rebecca immediately transcribed the response into English and he leaned over her shoulder to read it. Blah, blah, blah – illegal immigration – blah, blah, blah. The phone line fell quiet and he let Gori sit in the uncomfortable silence as he read the rest of the transcription. "So, you and your boys are comfortable with a key witness giving you false information about who they are?"

Intervention from Rebecca.

A deep sigh echoed across the line and he suddenly had a vision of Gori rubbing his eyes, frustrated and exhausted. Well, join the club. "What you want us to do, eh?" he asked, his broken English dancing briefly in the tension before he switched back to Italian. Do more, he thought to himself as he continued to watch the laptop screen over Rebecca's shoulder. Do a hell of a lot more. Blah, blah, blah – yes, it is suspicious – blah, blah, blah – refugee crisis – blah, blah, blah. "Maybe," Gori concluded, switching back to English, "we build big beautiful wall like America, yes?"

Next to him, he saw Rebecca's spine stiffen as Gori chuckled, seemingly pleased with his own joke. He cleared his throat and pulled the speaker phone closer. "So, forget about Gianni Cappello – or whatever his real name is – for a second. Could he have managed to rescue Gregory Richards from the car too? Forget what he said happened. What does the evidence say?"

As Rebecca relayed his next questions, his cell phone vibrated loudly on the desk. He reached for the device, seeing an incoming call from Olivia. He typed out a text message reply, promising that he was on his way shortly. After he tossed the phone back on the desk, he rubbed his face and sighed. They said to get Gregory out. Douse it and light it up. He looked at the screen, reading Gori's response. He insisted the Italian coroner's report showed Gregory's burned remains were found inside the car in the driver's seat. "Why you ask?" he heard Gori say.

They said to get Gregory out. Douse it and light it up.

"Just curious," he murmured. "Listen, Gori, I'd like you to scan and email copies of all the reports about the car accident."

After Rebecca finished translating, he heard Gori immediately begin to stutter. "No. No. Assolutamente no!"

He leaned close, speaking directly into the speaker phone. "Yes, you can. And, you will. Mrs. Richards requested them months ago. She's done waiting. She'd like them. Immediately. What's it going to cost?" He stood abruptly, not caring to read the price of Gori's cooperation. Olivia would give him whatever amount he asked for without hesitation. He shrugged into his blazer, listening to the sound of papers shuffling and breathing from Gori's end.

They said to get Gregory out. Douse it and light it up.

He was right. They hadn't been told the truth about the car accident.

Or Gregory's death.


Evy

"Feels nice to be out of the house, right?"

She glanced up at Benjy and forced herself to smile, to nod. But, it wasn't nice. It was stressful. Mom was home – alone – and anything could be happening. Casey was spending the day with Diana and the kids in San Diego. She was still convinced that Caitlin and Sean were wrong. Mom was not drinking again. But, that didn't mean that there wasn't still something wrong. Mom just…wasn't herself.

"Liar," he sighed as he hugged her close and kissed her forehead. She glanced up, apologetic as he continued, "I thought you wanted a break from Van Morrison."

She frowned and glanced around the restaurant. But, no one within earshot appeared to care about what two college students at a corner table were whispering about. "You promised you wouldn't say anything about that," she hissed, leaning back against her chair. Mom listening to the same song on repeat for days was not something she wanted getting around town.

"Evy, of course I didn't say anything about it to anyone else. But, I didn't think that meant I couldn't say anything about it to you."

She shook her head as she sighed deeply, her elbows digging into the table as she hid her face in her hands. "Sorry," she murmured, peaking over at him. With another deep sigh, she admitted, "Being on eggshells is exhausting."

He leaned on the table, closer, and whispered, "Why are you on eggshells?"

"I don't think Caitlin and Sean are right about Mom drinking. But…"

His voice was gentle as he suggested, "You're watching her like a hawk, just to be sure."

She felt her eyes fill with tears, shame consuming her as she nodded. "Mom's so angry with all of us. She's furious." She was furious they thought she started drinking again. She was furious they didn't trust her. She was furious they were treating her like a child. Most of all, she was furious they didn't believe her. "And, she's not drinking, but there's something wrong with her. Like, really wrong."

Benjy reached out, rubbing her back. "You know, people handle grief differently. Really differently. And, how long were your parents married?"

"43 years," she murmured. She knew her parents story like the back of her hand. Mom had been her age when she met Dad. Nineteen. She couldn't even imagine her own life 43 years from now. She had a sudden urge to know if Mom had been able to see that far into her own future when she met Dad.

"So, she and your dad were together for more than 40 years. But, it's been barely five months since he died." She turned her face to him, listening quietly as he continued to rub her back and concluded, "I'd say it's only fair she get another couple of months to get used to living without him."

She nodded. He was right. Of course, he was right. God, why couldn't she think this logically when Cait and Sean were sending her text after text after text? "I should get her something," she murmured, her mind wandering as she closed her eyes. "Something to distract her. Something to surprise her and make her smile." She opened her eyes again, a wistful smile on her face. "She and Dad got me Tater Tot for my fifth birthday. It was a huge surprise."

He grinned. "Yeah?"

She nodded, remembering the way she burst into tears when she saw Tater Tot snuggled in Mom's arms for the first time. "I'd been begging for a dog for months. Dad and I were both allergic, but I didn't care. And then, at my party, Dad said a gift had been left inside and Mom went to get it. God, don't you remember? Weren't you at my fifth birthday party?" She watched him balk as she saw the thoughts wave across his face. "I remember going to your birthday parties. I always remember our parents forcing us to be friends when we were really little."

With a chuckle, he rubbed his face and shrugged. "I might have been. But you know, at your fifth birthday, I would've probably sulked in the corner because I was a mature lad of nine."

She rolled her eyes as she moved her chair closer and nuzzled against him. "I'm sure being at a five-year-old girl's birthday party really cramped your style."

"Totally," he laughed, kissing her softly as a teasing voice exclaimed, "Well, aren't you two just the cutest?"

She glanced over her shoulder, hearing Benjy clear his throat as she said, "Hi, Aunt Bette." She stood, hugging the older woman tightly as she noticed the older man staring as he neared them. "What are you doing here?"

"Having a lunchtime cocktail with an old frie- oh, AJ! There you are!"

She smirked as Benjy stood, his hands on her shoulders as Aunt Bette introduced the two men. Well, well, well. AJ Deschanel. She knew Mom dated AJ before she met Dad. She eavesdropped on Aunt Bette's conversation with Mom a few weeks ago about AJ being back in town for the town's centennial. "And, AJ, this Gregory and Olivia's youngest child, Evy."

AJ reached out, taking hold of her right hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "You don't look at all like Olivia," he marveled, his eyes moving over her and she forced a pleasant smile to her lips.

"Everyone says that. Mom always said I was a mirror image of Dad," she explained, gently pulling her hand back. "Sean and I both."

Benjy's chest was against her back as Bette chuckled. But, AJ's eyes never left her face. "Extraordinary," he murmured and she couldn't help the shudder that went through her. This guy was a total creeper. God, what had Mom seen in him?

"And, what are you two love birds up to this afternoon?"

She stood still, unwilling to break AJ's stare first. "Just…you know, stuff."

From behind her, Benjy chuckled. "That's Evy's way of saying 'Benjy has an afternoon of surprises planned'." Aunt Bette laughed in reply as he asked, "How about you, AJ? Any plans with Bette this afternoon?"

She smirked as AJ broke their stare when he heard Benjy say his name. With a pleased sigh, she watched the charming smile return to his face. "Unfortunately, young man, this is a business lunch."

Aunt Bette chuckled and looped her arm through his. "That's what he thinks. Ciao, you two," she called out as she gently pulled him away.

AJ's blue-gray eyes lingered on her for a long moment before he turned away. She frowned and turned back to him. "You think they're dating?" she asked, her mind working hard.

He shrugged. "Beats me." With a gentle tug of her hand, he pulled her back and said, "Come on. Let's finish up here and go for a walk on the beach."

She turned back to him, her eye brow arched. "Actually, I wanted to go somewhere else. Up for a drive?"

He grinned, melting her heart. "I'll go anywhere with you."


Olivia

I was supposed to be listening to Ken, but I wasn't. I couldn't. He was trying so hard to bring me back into the fold at the radio station, but I didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore. I nodded vaguely, pretending to follow along as a newfound memory flashed before my eyes. My arms around Gregory, hugging him in the tub. The way the steam curled around us. The way the almond bath oil perfumed the space. The way his chin felt against my arm. The way we laughed together, the sound echoing off the marble. The way my head rested against his.

"So, what do you think?"

I glanced up, finding Ken watching expectantly. With a sigh, I began, "Ken, I'm sorry. I'm trying. I really am, but-"

"You're not trying."

I blinked. His declaration hung between us, free from any anger or frustration. It was just an observation from a profoundly honest person. "I'm not," I admitted, leaning back into my leather chair. He sighed, running a hand through his silver hair. "I don't care," I continued in a whisper. "I just don't."

"I know," he replied.

With a framed photo of Gregory and I at the periphery of my vision, I asked, "Do you think Hettie Communications still wants to buy WHOC? They wanted it three years ago." But, I was stubborn then. I also wasn't a widow then.

Ken's face turned thoughtfully as he sat back. "I haven't heard any rumblings from them."

Our hushed voices seemed shockingly loud in my office, but this wing of the house was empty. Just my office, Gregory's study, and a small guest bedroom. "Put out a line," I suggested.

He watched me for a long moment before he sighed. "Are you sure this is what you want? You've owned the station for more than thirty years."

I only nodded in reply as he dropped his file folder back into his briefcase and snapped it close. "You deserve to work for someone who actually listens to you."

He reached for his briefcase and stood. "You always listen to me."

"I did before," I pointed out as I stood and led him out. "But, I'm finished now. I have nothing left." I felt myself sigh, but it was the only thing I felt.

As we walked into the foyer, Ken turned to me and asked, "Did I ever tell you I was going to quit when Gregory turned the station over to you?"

I smiled and leaned in. "You didn't exactly make it a secret that you hated me that first year."

He laughed aloud and shook his head. "I didn't hate you. But, it was frustrating to work for someone who didn't know what the hell they were doing." With a soft chuckle, I met his gaze as he continued in a low voice, "But, you never asked a question more than once. You listened. And, you quickly figured out what the hell you were doing."

My throat tightened as I nodded and reached for his hand. "Thank you for not quitting," I said softly as I squeezed his hand. "Gregory got me through the first year, but you got me through all the years that came after."

He nodded and cleared his throat and I pulled my hand back, not wanting to embarrass him further. "I'll take my time with Hettie, just in case-"

I shook my head. "I won't. I know I won't."

"Alright," he sighed, reaching for the door. "I'll be in touch when I hear from them."

"Thank you, Ken." He smiled over his shoulder as he left and I reached out and closed the front door behind him. With a deep exhale, I leaned back against the door and pressed my hands over my tight chest. Hettie would buy. They'd be making a mistake if they didn't. I trusted Ken to negotiate for the best deal possible. Gregory's voice echoed from deep within my mind. And then what will you do, Liv?

"Is he gone?"

I glanced over, hearing my daughter's voice from behind the door that led to the dining room. "Evy?" I called out.

"Obviously. So, is Ken gone?"

I frowned and stepped away from the door, watching as she poked her head out. "Yes. Why?"

She pushed open the door and came through, leading a hesitant looking spaniel on a leash. My stomach dropped as the dog looked up at me, its tail wagging slowly as my daughter explained, "Because I remember how much he hated Tater Tot. Like, more than Dad hated her."

Gregory didn't hate Tater Tot, my brain insisted. He just…was annoyed by her presence in our home. My jaw dropped as I glanced from her, to the dog, and back to her. "Evelyn, what is this?"

She laughed as she crouched next to the dog, scratching behind its ear. The dog immediately lay down and rolled over, belly up. "Mom! What does it look like?"

My lips pressed into a thin line as I watched her giggle and scratch the dog's exposed stomach. It was a female dog. "What's it doing here?"

"She. You mean, 'what's she doing here?'." She glanced up, smiling brightly. "She's lives here. I adopted her from the rescue shelter."

I frowned and folded my arms against my chest. "And, you're taking her back to school with you at the end of summer?"

Her face turned and I sighed. I knew it. The moment I saw her walk in with that dog, I just knew. "I got her for you!" I heard her explain as I sighed again, deeper and longer. "It's a surprise!" I tapped my foot, irritated, and the dog immediately rolled over and snapped to attention. She trotted over and promptly sat at my feet she looked up expectantly. "See! Look! She loves you already!"

"What am I supposed to do with her?" I asked as the dog continued to gaze up at me as her mouth parted and she wagged her tail energetically.

"The same stuff we did with Tater Tot!" She stood and came over to me, wrapping her arm around my shoulders. "Oh, look!" she gasped as the dog looked at her briefly before she turned back to me. "She's smiling at you!"

"For God's sake, Evy," I huffed as the dog continued to gaze up at me with adoration dripping from her expression. "Dogs don't smile," I insisted. The moment I said those three words, a chill went down my spine.

She froze and looked over. "Dad used to say that about Tater Tot," she whispered. "You always told him he was wrong when he did."

Damn. With a grimace, I kneeled and held out my hand. With a tentative sniff, the dog's snout nuzzled against my palm before she gave it a shy lick. "What's her name?" I asked softly, petting her head.

Her sandy brown coat shone as I heard Evy reply, "You're going to laugh. It's such a coincidence."

My hands found the tender spots behind her ears and I scratched gently, indeed causing the dog to smile wider. "Why? What is it?"

Evy giggled and sat on the floor next to me. "Her name is Pancake."

I chuckled as beneath my hand, the dog's head perked up when she heard her name. "Another dog named after food." I looked into the dog's bright onyx eyes and whispered, "Pancake." Her mouth parted deeper as her tongue hung out of her mouth.

"The woman at the shelter told Benjy and I that one of the kid volunteers named her that because her coat is brown like a pancake." She sighed deeply and looked down, reaching out to run her hand down the dog's back. "But, it felt like a sign…because Dad always made the best pancakes, you know?" A lump settled in my throat as I nodded, but said nothing else as I continued to scratch behind Pancake's ears. "Mom?"

I glanced over as she sighed deeply. "Would it make you happy if I told you I believed you? About what you remembered?"

"Do you believe me?" I asked. None of them did.

Her face fell and she shrugged. "I want to," she whispered, "I really really want to. I don't want…you to be sad anymore. But- I just- I mean, I don't-"

She sighed and shook her head and I gently let go of Pancake's head as I reached for her hand. Of course it didn't make sense to her. She wasn't there. She didn't see what I saw. She didn't hear what I heard. "It's alright, darling," I whispered as she sobbed and I hugged her close. She didn't know that Gianni Cappello was fake. She didn't know he had vanished without a trace. She didn't know because I didn't know why any of this happened. Why someone – anyone – would cover up how Gregory died. Why they would want him dead in the first place.

"But, Mom…"

Her head found my shoulder as she turned her face into my neck. It was the same way she would burrow into my arms when she was a cuddly toddler before bedtime. "Earlier this morning, I called the real estate agent Daddy and I were using in Florence."

She looked up quickly, blinking back tears. "What? Why?"

I smoothed back her blonde hair and whispered, "Because Daddy put in an offer on the last villa we saw. We were driving back from it when…" My words dried up in my throat. It felt morally wrong to call it a car accident. It wasn't an accident. Someone forced us from the road. Someone left Gregory for dead and made it look like an accident. "After," I continued, clearing my throat, "our offer lapsed because we never completed the closing paperwork. But…" And I felt the smile lifting my heart stretch to my lips.

"But, what?" Evy asked as Pancake nudged between us to sit in the middle.

"No one else bought it either. It's just sat there all this time." I could still hear the way Sofia's gasp echoed across the phone line as I told her, the way I'm telling Evy now, "I want it."

Evy's jaw dropped. "You bought it?"

I shrugged and gripped her shoulders as I stood. I was far too old to be kneeling on the floor for this long. "I repeated the same offer that Daddy made in January. Hopefully, the owners will still accept it. Sofia seemed confident they would back then."

Pancake rubbed her body against my right calf as Evy stood and stuttered, "But, Mom, are you sure? I mean…" Her voice fell away as she watched me for a long moment.

"Darling," I sighed as I reached out and cupped her face, "it was the last place I was with Daddy. We wanted to buy it." Gregory wanted it because I wanted it, but that didn't matter. "It's supposed to be ours."