A Promise to Remember Read Free Page A

not what he was used to, but nice by most standards. He
smoothed the slacks of his expensive-looking suit. When he
reached inside his car, Melanie moved away from the window
and opened the door.
    She already knew what he looked like from television and
news reports. In person, he was shorter than she'd expected,
his hair a tad more gray. He started toward her, and his swagger
revealed every bit of the cockiness she despised.
    What was she thinking in bringing him here?
    "Les Stewart." He smiled at her and extended his hand, a
hand that looked as if it had been manicured recently. The
handshake was, as she had supposed, firm, but his skin was so
soft she decided the man had never done a decent day's work
in his entire life. He, too, seemed to feel this difference for a
moment, looked at their hands, then pulled his own away as
if ashamed.
    She would force herself to be polite to the overstuffed turkey.
For Jeff's sake. "Please come in, Mr. Stewart. Would you like
some coffee or tea?"
    His eyes opened just a little wider. "Tea sounds wonderful."
    She pointed toward the worn blue-and-orange-plaid sofa.
"Make yourself comfortable. I'll just be a minute." She went into the kitchen and smirked as she poured tea into two glasses.
No doubt he was expecting Earl Grey, or Tazo, or one of those
fancy teas she saw in the coffee shop windows.

    When she walked back into the living room, he had assembled
an impressive array of official-looking papers on the scarred coffee table. She set a cork coaster on the table and watched his
face when he saw the tumbler of iced tea she set before him.
    The corners of his eyes crinkled, but otherwise he suppressed
any hint of surprise. He lifted the glass in a mock toast and took
his sip. Then his eyes opened wide. "This is delicious."
    "I've yet to meet a highfalutin hot-tea drinker who didn't prefer
my iced tea to any of that fancy stuff. It's the homegrown mint
that makes a difference."
    He looked into the glass where the green leaf floated on the
surface. "Hear, hear." He looked at her this time with genuine
appreciation. No doubt he expected a woman of her social and
financial status to be totally cowed in his presence, but Melanie
had never been one to like pretension. Or chitchat.
    "What, exactly, do you think you can do for me, Mr.
Stewart?"
    "Mrs. Johnston-"
    "It's Melanie. I prefer to leave Mr. and Mrs. to old peopleand the younger ones who think they're too important to have a
first name. If you ask me, those are the kinds of people whose
names I'd just as soon not know."
    He smiled and offered a single nod. "Have you read the
newspaper accounts of the accident?"
    "Read 'em all. Saved the ones about Jeff in a scrapbook in
the kitchen."
    "Good. Then you are aware that Chad Phelps was driving
with a suspended license."
    "Yeah, I read that."

    "In a California court, his parents are liable for his behavior.
They should have made certain he didn't have access to a car,
whether or not they were home."
    "What's a kid that age doing with keys to a BMW, anyway?"
    "As I understand it, Mrs. Johns-Melanie, it was a birthday
present for his sixteenth birthday."
    She already knew this, but it never failed to anger her. "What
kind of parents give their kid a car like that as a birthday present?" She twirled her glass around, then set it on the coaster. "Jeff
bought his car with his own money. Still has two years of payments on the thing." She laced her fingers together and pulled
against her right knee. "I suppose that fancy car is what helped
that other kid live long enough to say good-bye to his parents.
All that high-tech safety equipment." She sniffed and looked
away. "Maybe those parents had the right idea after all."
    He took a deep breath, no doubt preparing the high-pressure
"take me because I'm high-powered" spiel. She would force
herself to listen, but knew that she could not go through with
this.
    "Melanie, I would be honored to help you fight this