Summer Rain (Lightning Strikes Book 3) Read Free Page A

I should have."
    "Not at all, Dad. I wanted this as much as you did. It was Mom's dream, and you made it happen." He'd been twenty-two years old when his mom had died. Sometimes it felt like a lifetime ago, and sometimes it felt like yesterday. "I just wish she could have done it herself."
    "We all do, son," Harris said with a heavy sigh. "But it was God's will."
    "Was it?" The question came out before he could stop it, and he mentally kicked himself as he saw the change come over his father's expression.
    "Patrick, we've talked about this—"
    "And I'm sorry I brought it up today," he said, quickly backpedaling. "But the more research I do on the events of that day, the more I wonder if we really know the truth about the plane crash."
    "It was an accident, Patrick. Do you really think law enforcement didn't do everything they could to find out what was behind the crash that took the lives of a US congresswoman, a US senator, two staffers and a pilot? You just have to accept that some tragedies are unexplainable accidents. I know it's difficult. I've gone over the same kinds of questions in my head. And I've wasted a lot of time doing that. I don't want to see you make the same mistake, and frankly, I don't understand why you're suddenly so interested. It's been eight years. What's changed?"
    He couldn't tell his father what had triggered his renewed interest in the crash, not unless he knew it was true, because the last thing he wanted to do was paint his mother as someone other than the saint everyone believed she'd been, including himself. But since he'd reached out to some of the family members of the people killed in the crash to invite them to the ceremony, he'd heard some comments that made him uneasy. He'd always followed his instincts, especially when it came to mysteries. It was what made him a good investigative journalist.
    But this wasn't just a story; this was his mother's life and her legacy, and he was conflicted about how far he wanted to go. He just knew he wasn't quite ready to put all his questions away.
    Seeing his father's speculative gaze, he realized his dad was still waiting for an answer. "You're right, today is not the day to discuss the past. I want this afternoon to be only about Mom."
    "Good. Your mother wouldn't like you stirring up trouble."
    He wasn't so sure about that. While his father hated conflict, his mother had never shied away from a fight. He just hoped her courage to do battle wasn't why she'd lost her life.
    "There's Jill," his dad said, waving his hand toward the parking lots. "Let's say hello."
    He followed his father down the path. His mother's younger sister, Jill Conroy, a short, curvy brunette who looked a lot like his mom, gave him a hug. Next to her was his uncle Wallace, a tall, thin man with bookish glasses that always seem to slide down his nose, and on the other side was his cousin Marcus, who'd inherited his brown hair and stocky, football player physique from his mother's side of the family. Marcus was a year younger than him and since they were both only children, they'd been more like brothers than cousins.
    "How's it going?" Marcus asked, as their parents moved away to greet friends and relatives.
    "Good. It looks like we will have a big crowd for the opening."
    The small parking lot was now lined with cars, and the streets surrounding the park were also showing heavy traffic, with more people walking in from the surrounding neighborhood. In an area that was not known for its beauty, the two-acre park with its children's playground, basketball court, and newly planted rose garden was an oasis of beauty in an otherwise blighted block of crowded, dingy apartment buildings and run-down homes.
    "The park looks great," Marcus said. "Your mother would be happy."
    "I think so, too. Hopefully, it will stay the way it looks now."
    "You and your dad have done all you can; the rest is up to the community."
    "Yeah, I know." His gaze moved to a very tall man dressed in a black