He settled in the chair across from hers but didn’t touch the coffee. “I appreciate your concern.”

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “I have to say, this is my first society function and it didn’t go exactly as I’d pictured it.”

“We don’t usually have murders here in Grand Springs. At least not at functions like this.”

Cynthia shivered. “So those poor people are dead? How awful. Do the police know what happened?”

He pushed the coffee back toward her. “Here. Drink this. You need it more than I do.”

She hesitated, then thanked him and picked up the cup.

“The police are still working on the details,” Jonathan said.

“Do they know who the people are?” she asked before taking a drink of the coffee.

“Yes. My half brother and his wife.”

Cynthia made a soft sound, then set the cup on the table. She stretched her arm across the table and placed her hand over his. “Oh, Jonathan. I’m so terribly sorry. You must be in shock.”

She blinked and he would have sworn there were actual tears in her eyes. As if she was wounded on his behalf. Did women really cry for reasons other than manipulation?

She squeezed his fingers, then released him. “I can’t know what you’re going through right now,” she said. “No one can. I lost my stepfather three years ago. I still remember the incredible pain and sense of loss. His being gone left such an incredible hole in my life. One that will never be filled.” She sipped the coffee again. “Frank, my stepfather, was more like an older brother than a father to me. We were so close and I loved him deeply. I comfort myself with the fact that I was able to tell him that at the end.”

She gave a soft cry, then pressed her free hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “That was so thoughtless. I didn’t mean to make you feel worse by pointing out the fact that you didn’t get to tell your brother goodbye.”