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He stood in the middle of the road, legs braced, muscular arms folded, watching me go. Seeing him like that, I couldn’t help comparing him to another man who’d watched me drive away less than twenty-four hours before—Bom Felloes.

Despite his polish, his fortune, and his absolute gentlemanly behavior, Bom had left me cold. Consequently, it had been easy to keep him on my suspect list. But Mr. Rand, however, was another matter entirely.

Regardless of my determination to remain aloof, I couldn’t deny, at least to myself, that Jim Rand, with his scruffy masculinity and wry sense of humor, was most definitely my type. And that’s why he was terribly dangerous for me to be around.

Rand was the most likely killer I’d come across yet, and I had an obligation to inform Detective O’Rourke about what I’d found. Which is why, with a final, regretful glance in my car’s mirror, I once again cursed my inability to reengineer my taste in men.

Eighteen

“We’ll question him, Ms. Cosi. Thank you for the heads up.”

“You’re welcome.”

The phone call with Detective O’Rourke had gone well, now that it had finally taken place. I had left a message for him well before our lunch shift. We were about to prepare for dinner and he’d just gotten around to calling me back.

During the call, O’Rourke had been vague and distant. But he’d also seemed genuinely intrigued to hear that I’d “accidentally” come across that diver who happened to admit being in the vicinity of David Mintzer’s mansion the night of Treat’s shooting.

Unfortunately, O’Rourke wouldn’t reveal much about the progress of his investigation. He’d implied that because I wasn’t a member of Treat’s immediate family, he wasn’t obligated to tell me anything. I countered with the reminder that I had found the body and was a key witness to some basic events including the recovery of the bullet casings.

The Suffolk County detective wasn’t too happy to be pressured, but he did politely invite me to call back again—“anytime.” I intended to do just that, especially to find out where their questioning of Jim Rand would lead them.

“Hi, Mom…Mom? You okay?”

I’d been sitting on the couch in Cuppa J’s empty break room, staring off into space after my call to O’Rourke. On the coffee table in front of me were the photos Jim Rand had given me, the photos he’d taken the night of Treat’s murder. When I realized Joy was standing there, I checked my watch. She’d arrived thirty minutes early for her dinner shift.

“Hi, honey,” I murmured. “You’re early.”

“I wanted to make up for coming late yesterday.” She shuffled her feet, crossed and uncrossed her arms. “Look, I’m sorry about fighting with you, okay? I don’t want to argue anymore.”

“Oh, honey…I’m sorry, too.” I opened my arms. She sat down beside me on the couch and we hugged.

“I want you to understand how I feel…I really like Graydon,” she said quietly. “And I really like it out here. It’s so beautiful. I hate what happened to Treat, but it was my idea to come out here in the first place. Don’t ask me to go back to the city before the summer ends.”

I brushed my daughter’s lengthening brown bangs away from her green eyes. “I’m just worried about you.”

“Mom, you want to see my driver’s license? I’m over eighteen. If I want to spend the night with Graydon or Keith Judd or any other guy, I will. I only didn’t last night because I didn’t feel right about it. I didn’t want to do it to spite you. When I sleep with a guy, it’s going to be because I want to, not because I’m trying to prove something.”

I smiled. “When you sleep with a guy, I hope it’s because you love him. But if you don’t, Joy, remember what I always tell you: when you make your choices, you have to live with the consequences.”

“I know, I know. Just like you did, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know the other night, the night Treat was killed…Grandmother finally told me why you and daddy got married.”

I frowned. “She shouldn’t have.”

“Well, I was angry at you when you ripped up Keith Judd’s number in front of everybody. Really angry…but she talked to me…she told me about your getting pregnant accidentally, said that’s why you’re being the way you’re being. Because of what happened to you around my age—actually, you were younger, weren’t you?”

“She shouldn’t have told you what I did or didn’t do at your age.”

“Why not? Are you sorry you had me?”

“No, Joy. You’re the best thing that ever happened in my life.”

“So your ‘mistake’ wasn’t so bad, really?”

“My mistake was marrying your father, but at the time, I never could have seen it that way. This isn’t about me anyway. That’s ancient history, which is why I never told you. I don’t want you to take what I did as a license to do anything yourself. I don’t want you to have to make the hard choices I did, to end up in a bad marriage or even a bad relationship. I don’t want to see you hurt, Joy.”

“But you will, Mom. Everybody gets hurt.”

“There’s hurt and then there’s hurt.”

Joy shook her head. “Come on, Mom, lighten up. You are just soooo uptight. Haven’t you ever heard of a summer fling? Even Grandma is having one!”

“Don’t remind me. Unlike you, your grandmother never came in last night.”

“What?!” Joy cried in outrage, jumping to her feet. “Where was she? Who was she with? Was it that geezer who was all over her last night in the dining room, the one with the ponytail and beret?”

“Come on, Joy, lighten up,” I said, unable to suppress the smile. “You’re just soooo uptight.”

“Oh, stop it,” snapped Joy, putting her hands on her hips. “Look, I’m going to start restocking. You should give Grandma a call.” Then she wheeled and marched out of the break room like a little determined general.

My god, I thought, watching her go, when did my daughter become such a bossy, intrusive, know-it-all?

Just then, my cell phone went off in my hand. I checked the incoming number on the digital screen before answering. “You must be psychic,” I told Madame. “I was about to ring you.”

“Hello, dear. How was your day?”

I sighed. “It’s not over yet. Ask me then. How was your night?”

“Divine!”

“And are you still with the divine Mr. Wilson?”

There was a long pause. Madame’s voice went low. “How did you know I spent the night with Edward?”

“You’re kidding right?”

“Well, I’m trying to be discreet.”

“I should think so,” I said. “What would Dr. MacTavish say?”

“My dear, the good doctor and I are not engaged. And the last time I checked my driver’s license, I was over eighteen. Haven’t you ever heard of a summer fling?”

“You have way too much in common with your granddaughter.”

Laughter was the response to that. “Open your eyes, Clare. Joy is bossy, whip smart, and loves to meddle. She’s a carbon copy of you. So what’s the news on the case?”

I was still alone in Cuppa J’s break room. Lunch service was over and the dinner shift wouldn’t be arriving for another twenty minutes, so I rose and shut the door for privacy. Then I updated Madame about meeting Rand.

“I just spoke with O’Rourke,” I quietly explained. “The Suffolk County police are going to question Rand.”

“Oh, my. And you think this Rand person is the killer?”

“Rand had no motive that I can see. But he is a mercenary where shooting pictures are concerned. And I’m betting he switched his camera for a rifle. The important question for David’s safety is who provided the payoff for Rand to make the switch? Hopefully the detectives will break Rand and he’ll admit who hired him. But if he doesn’t crack, we’re back to square one.”