Free Homecoming by Rochelle Alers Page A

the goblet filled with sparkling water and a slice of lemon, saluting him. “It appears you’ve graduated summa cum laude.”
    He smiled, the gesture as intimate as a kiss. “Thank you, milady.”
    They continued to eat and drink, both content to listen to the distinctive haunting words of “Sweetest Taboo.”
    Putting aside his fork and resting his elbows on the table, Tyler laced his fingers together, staring at Dana as she slowly and methodically speared a shrimp and brought the fork to her mouth.
    “Have you come back to Hillsboro to stay?” he asked.
    She placed her fork next to her plate, and then touched her napkin to the corners of her mouth. “Stay how?” Her voice was calmer than she actually felt.
    His lids lowered as he studied her impassive expression. “Live here permanently.”
    She shook her head. Several wisps of hair had escaped the twist she’d pinned up earlier that morning,gold-streaked strands brushing a bared shoulder with the motion. “I don’t know, Tyler. I’ve taken a four-month leave from my job to settle my grandmother’s estate. After I can take care all of the legal matters, I’m going back to New York.”
    What she didn’t say was that settling her grandmother’s estate would become a simple task when compared to her investigating her parents’ murder/suicide.
    Four months
, Tyler mused. Was that enough time to get to know Dana well enough to reevaluate his own future? Did he want her to become a part of his life and his future? The questions attacked him while he refused to acknowledge that Dana could possibly have a boyfriend or fiancé waiting for her back in New York.
    “What do you do for a living?” he asked.
    She gave him a direct stare. “I’m a journalist.”
    “Newspaper?”
    “Yes.”
    “Which one?”
    “The
Carrollton Chronicle
. It has a very small circulation.”
    “How small?” Tyler asked.
    “About twelve hundred subscribers.”
    “That’s equal to Hillsboro’s
Herald
.”
    Dana was more than familiar with her hometown weekly, remembering how most of the adults had waited for Thursday evening to read the headlines, then devour each word from the front page to the last. The publisher of the
Herald
had continued a century-old tradition of publishing a periodical with a distinct hometown flavor. The black-owned newspaper had been as essential to Hillsboro for reporting the local news as
The New York Times
was to New York City, major U.S. cities, and world capitals.
    “Is it still owned by the Davis family?”
    Tyler shook his head. “No. Someone named RyanVance is the current publisher and editor in chief. The word is that he bought it from the Davises last month. It was said the current generation of Davises saw no future in newspaper publishing and put the
Herald
up for sale.”
    Dana stared down at the slice of lemon floating in the glass of water. So many things had changed in Hillsboro during her exile, and she wondered for the first time how difficult would it be for her to glean the information she needed about what had become Hillsboro’s most celebrated murder.
    Tracing the rim of the goblet with a forefinger, she looked up. Tyler sat motionless, staring across the table at her. “Why did you move to Hillsboro?” she asked. It was the same question she’d put to him before the waitress at Smithy’s burned her hand.
    “I was recruited by the federal government for a research study.”
    Tyler related the statistics on infant-mortality rates in Hillsboro in relation to the national average. She listened intently as he gave her an overview of the number of research projects he’d been involved with since becoming a doctor.
    “I made a visit to Hillsboro before I decided to head the project, to see the facility where I’d be working, and was horrified with the conditions. Most of the medical equipment was antiquated, and the physical condition of the facility was definitely not conducive for adequate medical treatment. I told the