I looked toward the parking area.
“That makes sense.”
Richard’s mouth tightened.
“To him.”
There it was again.
The thing beneath everything.
“You don’t approve.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t need to.”
Richard glanced at me.
“You’re very perceptive.”
“Occupational hazard.”
He looked toward the Caldwell banner hanging above the main stage.
CALDWELL DEVELOPMENT GROUP — BUILDING OUR COMMUNITY TOGETHER.
“My father started the company,” he said. “I spent thirty-five years building it. Ethan is my only child.”
“And?”
“And eventually it should be his.”
“Does he agree?”
Richard didn’t answer.
That was answer enough.
From behind us came Denise’s voice.
“Victoria, when you’re done solving the Caldwell succession crisis, I need you at the dessert auction.”
Richard actually laughed.
It was the first unguarded sound I had heard from him.
“I should go,” he said.
He took two steps.
Then stopped.
“Victoria?”
“Yes?”
“He had that money saved for the academy.”
I looked at him.
“The ten thousand?”
Richard nodded.
“He’s been saving for nearly two years.”
Then he walked away.
I stood there holding my Army jacket.
Suddenly the donation felt heavier.
The fundraiser ended a little after nine.
