Frannie relaxed against his muscular chest, wishing she could stay there forever. “Why’d this have to happen to her? To them?”

“I wish I knew.” His ragged sigh told her he was upset, too. As Jack’s best friend and business partner as well as the girls’ godfather, he’d always been close with Clare. Telling herself this embrace was all about comfort, Frannie put her arms around his waist.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked after they’d held each other for a long time.

“What choice do I have?” Reluctantly, she released him and took a step back. “My brother needs me.”

He reached for her hand. “I’m here if you need me. You know that, don’t you?”

She wished she had the nerve to tell him all the ways she needed him, but she never had before, and now was certainly not the time. “Thanks. I may take you up on that. I’m moving in with Jack and the girls.”

“Really?” He seemed to brighten at that news.

“I can’t keep running back and forth between here and New York, and the girls need someone they can count on.”

“They’re lucky to have you.” Tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear, he surprised her when he pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. “Whatever you need, whenever you need it. I’m here.”

His softly spoken words nearly reduced her once again to tears. “I’d better go. Maggie’s waiting for me.”

“Take care, Fran.” He opened the car door and held it for her as she got in.

She waved to him as she drove past him. Glancing in the mirror, she saw that he was still watching her. Now what did that mean?

Frannie moved in lock, stock, and easel to care for the girls while Jack made phone calls, searched the Internet, and consulted with doctors around the country. They all said the same thing—the longer the coma lasted, the less likely it became that Clare would recover.

Since he refused to put Clare in a nursing home, Jack brought her home to the large contemporary house he’d designed and built as a surprise for her five years earlier. He had the first-floor dining room converted to accommodate a hospital bed and the equipment needed by the team of round-the-clock nurses. Most nights he slept on a sofa he’d dragged into the room so she’d never be alone.

A week after Clare came home from the hospital, Jack received a call from Sergeant Curtis, the Newport police officer who’d investigated the accident. The driver had suffered a fatal heart attack, which explained why the car had been so out of control in the mall parking lot. Jack had thought the case was closed as far as the police were concerned.

“I was wondering if I could come by for a few minutes,” Curtis said.