After the Night by Linda Howard Page A

his support like a solid rock at his back, but now that loving, reassuring presence was gone, and with it the foundation of his life.
     
    He was terrified. He was only twenty-two, and the problems looming over him looked like unscalable mountains. Noelle and Monica still didn’t know; somehow he had to find the strength to tell them. He had to be a rock for them, and he had to put aside his own pain and concentrate on holding the family finances together, or they stood to lose everything. This wasn’t the same situation it would have been if Guy had died, for Gray would have inherited the shares, the money, and the control. As it was now, Guy still owned everything, and he was gone. The Rouillard fortune could come tumbling down around their ears, with wary investors jumping ship and various boards of directors seizing power. Gray would have to fight like a son of a bitch to keep even half of what they now had.
    He, Monica, and Noelle had some assets hi their own names, but it wouldn’t be enough. Guy had been giving Gray a crash course in managing it all, but hadn’t given him the power to do so, unless he’d left a letter giving Gray his proxy. Desperate hope reared its head. Any such letter, if it existed, would be in the desk in the study.
    Failing that, he’d have to call Alex and get his help in laying out a strategy. Alex was a damn smart man and a good corporate lawyer; he could have had a much more lucrative practice somewhere else, but he was backed by his own family money and hadn’t felt the need to leave Prescott. He had handled all of Guy’s business, as well as being his best friend, so he knew as much or more about the legal situation as did Gray.
    God knows, Gray thought bleakly, he’d need all the help he could get. If there wasn’t a letter of proxy, he’d be lucky to keep a roof over them.
    When he raised his head from the steering wheel, he had regained his self-control, the pain pushed to the background and steely determination taking its place. By God, his mother and sister would have a hard enough time dealing with this as it was; he’d be damned if he let them lose their home, too.
    He put the car into gear and drove away, leaving the last remnants of his boyhood behind on the rutted dirt track.
    He went first into Prescott, to Alex’s office. He would have to move fast to salvage anything. Andrea broke into a smile when he came in, something women often did at the sight of him. Color heightened a little on her round, pleasant face. She was forty-five, old enough to be his mother, but age had nothing to do with her instinctive female reaction to his tall, muscular presence.
    Gray automatically returned the smile, but his mind was racing with plans. "Is anyone with Alex? I need to see him."
    "No, he’s alone. Go on in, hon."
    Gray walked past her desk and into Alex’s office, firmly closing the door behind him. Alex looked up from the well-ordered mountain of files on his desk, and got to his feet. His good-looking face was taut with worry. "Did you find him?"
    Gray shook his head. "Renee Devlin’s gone, too."
    "Oh, God." Alex collapsed back into his chair and shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I can’t believe it. I didn’t think he was serious. My God, why would he be? He was – " He stopped and opened his eyes, flushing a little.
    "Fucking her anyway," Gray finished bluntly. He walked over to the window and stood with his hands in his pockets, looking down on the main street. Prescott was a small town, only about fifteen thousand citizens, but today traffic hummed around the courthouse square. Soon everyone down there would know that Guy Rouillard had left his wife and children and run off with the Devlin whore.
    "Does your mama know?" Alex’s voice was strained.
    Gray shook his head. "Not yet. I’ll tell her and Monica when I go home." The original shock and pain had gone, leaving behind a ruthless willpower and a certain remoteness, as if he were standing at a