“This is...amazing,” Griff said. It felt too strange to say Brian’s name. “It’s such an unexpected. Pleasure, I mean. An unexpected pleasure.” He was surprised to find he was genuinely rattled. He offered his hand.

Brian half rose to shake hands briefly.

Marcus burst out laughing. “An unexpected. You could say that.” His voice was too loud. All their voices were too loud. But for once nobody seemed to be drinking.

Brian sank back on the sofa. He scrutinized Griff. “Thanks. No hard feelings?”

“Why would there be?”

“There goes your book.” Brian shrugged in commiseration.

“I didn’t...” Griff turned automatically to Jarrett. They had already got as far as discussing his book? He hadn’t thought about the ramifications of Brian’s return in regard to his work. Hadn’t thought about his position in this at all.

Jarrett met his gaze, appearing uncharacteristically nonplussed. “Why, I suppose, that is, er, plenty of time to talk it over.” His smile didn’t quite stretch from Brian to Griff. “No need to worry over that just now. This is a celebration.”

Muriel said, “Yes. We certainly don’t want that book written now!” Her face was flushed, her eyes bright, she looked almost pretty.

Michaela said, “I don’t see why Brian coming home means there can’t be a book.”

Ring, standing behind the sofa, touched her shoulder, but she ignored him. “It gives the story a happy ending. Christ knows we could use some of that.” She even smiled at Griff. Like Muriel, this was the first time she had looked relaxed, let alone happy.

Griff had a flash of Mrs. Truscott sobbing in the kitchen. Those heartbreaking noises. Happiness, yes, and relief. The relief in this house was palpable.

The Arlingtons all began to talk at once. Everyone but Brian, who continued to smile at Griff in that odd, assessing way.

Jarrett coughed, cleared his throat. “I’m not sure that’s quite fair to Griff.” He threw Griff another of those uncomfortable, apologetic looks.

“I agree.” That was Chloe. Griff took a closer look at her face and realized she was about the only person in the room who wasn’t aglow with happiness. “It’s not fair.”

“I don’t want any book written about me,” Brian said with finality. He smiled at Griff. “Sorry, but that’s the way I feel about it.”

Griff opened his mouth, but before he could make his case, the dogs, which had been snuffling and sniffing his feet, began to bark hysterically once more, plumy tails and fringed bodies shaking, like agitated throw pillows.

“I see the party’s already started.” Pierce’s voice sliced cleanly through the racket.

He must have raced out of his office two minutes after Griff and never once let up on the accelerator. He was smiling, but there was about as much genuine warmth in his smile for Brian as Brian’s smile currently held for Griff.

“Pierce, my dear boy!” Jarrett’s warmth sounded forced. “I’ve been explaining to Brian...” He didn’t finish exactly what he had been explaining, but Griff wished he had been there to hear it.

Brian, apparently forewarned, rose all the way to his feet this time and offered his hand. “Pierce Mather. I won’t say you haven’t changed, but I’d recognize you anywhere.”

“So you’re Brian?” Pierce shook hands. “This is quite a surprise.”

Chloe drawled, “He gets that a lot.”

“A pleasant one, I hope,” Brian said.

Pierce grinned. “That remains to be seen.” Somehow he managed to look supremely civilized and yet unmistakably dangerous. This was the Pierce who was used to getting up in front of judges and juries and making mincemeat of his opponents. He said pleasantly, “Any reason you chose to come straight to the family and not to me?”

The buzz of conversation cut off as though someone had yanked a cord. Even the dogs shut up.

“Pierce,” Jarrett said.

“It’s okay, Ja-Grandfather.” Brian offered another of those big, blank smiles. “Your reputation precedes you, Pierce. I didn’t want to waste time talking to lawyers. No offense. I know who I am and I wanted to see my family.”

“Any reason it took you twenty years to get around to wanting to see your family?” Pierce was smiling too. Griff had never seen anyone manage to be so courteous and so rude at the same time. It was kind of impressive.

Muriel gave a gasp. Chloe snorted. No one else seemed to breathe.

Brian seemed to size Pierce up. He smiled gravely. “Yes, but that’s something I’m not willing to talk about yet. Certainly not with you.”

“It’s not quite that simple.” Pierce sounded almost kind.

“Yes, indeed it is,” Jarrett broke in. It was the first time Griff had seen him genuinely angry. “Pierce, I’ve already made my feelings known to you. I know you have our best interests at heart, but I’ve told you we have irrefutable proof that this is Brian.”

“I can’t wait to see it.” Pierce’s tiger gaze never wavered from Brian. As intimidating as Pierce’s stare was, Brian continued to smile like a man who knew he held all the cards.

“Pierce Mather!” Muriel jumped up and grabbed a small brown tattered object from the low table to the side of the sofa. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

She thrust the object underneath Pierce’s nose. Pierce stared at it. Astonishingly, he seemed to lose color. Griff looked more closely. At first he thought Muriel was holding a brown rag. Then he realized it was a small stuffed bear.

Tiny Teddy.

Chapter Seventeen

A small fuzzy body that smelled of misused cotton and baby lotion. One brown-gold glass eye. One black triangle-shaped button in place of the other missing eye. “Like a pirate patch,” his mother’s smiling voice said.

There was a sound like rushing wind in his ears. Griff couldn’t get his breath. His chest felt too tight, his heart racing so fast it felt ready to explode or burst through his ribs. Cold sweat broke out over his body. He felt sick. Black spots blotted his vision.

Christ Almighty. Was he going to faint? No. No. No... He reached out blindly for something to hang on to.

From an echo-y distance he could hear Pierce talking.

“That’s it? That’s the irrefutable proof? Who’s to say how he came into possession of that toy? Who’s to say that’s even Brian’s?” Pierce had recovered from his shock, but he was off his game. He sounded defensive.

“You should be ashamed of yourself, Pierce,” Muriel was saying. “You know very well Brian had Tiny Teddy the night he disappeared. How would someone else get hold of Tiny Teddy?”

“What’s the matter with you?” Chloe’s voice came from nearby. And then, more loudly, “Grandy, there’s something wrong with him.”

Yeah, there was something wrong. Something very wrong. Something desperately wrong. Griff was holding on with all his might, trying to stay on his feet, and he could hear a loud knocking, a rattling like a basket of bones. A table. His hands were locked onto the edge of one of the side tables, the porcelain figurines jigging in frantic effort to stay upright. Them and him both.

He opened his eyes to a sea of bewildered, frowning faces. He snapped his eyes shut.

Breathe. Breathe. He had to breathe...

Voices rose around him, babbling alarm. What is he doing? What happened? Is he sick? What’s wrong with him?

“What on earth?” Muriel’s high, shrill voice was in counterpoint to Jarrett’s lower but equally disturbed tones.

Help came from an unanticipated direction.

A hard, warm hand locked on his shoulder. Pierce spoke against his ear. “Griff? Griffin? Are you okay?”

He couldn’t raise his head, but he tried to nod. Made himself focus on Pierce. Pierce’s voice, Pierce’s grip. Funny thing, he was kind of getting to like Pierce’s aftershave...

“Give him some room,” Pierce ordered. One of his hands was still clamped on Griff’s shoulder, the other cupped Griff’s elbow as he steered him over to the sofa. There was something newly kind in Pierce’s touch, something reassuring in his voice. Griff recognized on an almost unconscious level that Pierce expected to be leaned on, didn’t mind being leaned on. Griff had never leaned on anyone in his life, but in this moment he was leaning on Pierce.