“You kissed him!” June said. “I saw you.”
I shrugged. “And?”
May grabbed my left hand. “Doesn’t this ring mean a thing to you?”
I reclaimed my hand and poured a mug of coffee. The diamond flashed in the sunlight streaming through the east window and I looked at it thoughtfully. “I think it’s real pretty, don’t you?”
“Deborah!”
“Be serious,” said June. “How would you like it if you caught Dwight kissing someone else?”
“Dwight didn’t catch me,” I pointed out. “You were the ones spying. If you saw us kiss, then you also saw us get in our own cars and drive off in different directions, so drop it, okay?”
Truth to tell, the whole incident had kept me tossing and turning during the night. What did it mean that I couldn’t respond to a man as smart and handsome as Lucius Burke? Lafayette County’s district attorney was as luscious as his nickname, virile and sexy, with green eyes to die for. I’ve always been a sucker for green eyes. My bigamous first marriage was to a green-eyed man, and the first guy to really break my heart? He’d had green eyes, too. So what was going on here?
(
(The pragmatist sniffed.
For a moment a snatch of my favorite Waylon Jennings CD played in my head:
A knock on the door abruptly interrupted my uneasy thoughts.
When May opened it, the girl who entered looked vaguely familiar, but I didn’t peg her till June said, “Hey, Trish. You’re out early.”
“School,” she said, making a face as she looked at her watch. “I can only stay about ten minutes. Carla said you wanted to ask me about Dad and Mr. Norman?”
She registered who I was about the same time I made her.
“Aren’t you the judge from Danny’s hearing Monday?”
“She’s our cousin,” May explained as I nodded.
“And you’re Trish Ledwig, right?” I said.
“It’s okay,” said June. “She’s on our side. Sort of.”
“Pretend I’m not here,” I said. “In fact, I’ll leave if you like.”
“That’s okay.” She sat down at the table across from me, and when the twins offered her coffee, asked if she could have a Coke instead.
Caffeine’s caffeine whether it fizzes or steams.
I studied her over the rim of my mug as she popped the top of the Coke can. Like her sister, she had long dark hair and hazel eyes, and a pretty heart-shaped face. She wore well-cut jeans, boots, and a brown leather jacket over a buttercup yellow jersey. There were tiny gold studs in her ears, and a small gold cross hung from a thin chain. No makeup except for a dash of lipstick.
“Do you know what’s going to happen to Danny?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Sorry, I don’t.”
“There’s a deputy up at the house right now asking about when some stuff was delivered. He even made me dig out the envelope my CDs came in.”
“You still had it?” I asked, surprised.
She looked equally surprised. “You know about it?”
“Those pictures they showed me in court Monday,” I reminded her. “I noticed some mailers lying on a table by the deck door.”
Enlightenment crossed her young face. “So that’s why they’re just now asking.”
“But those pictures were taken two weeks ago,” I said.
“Longer.” Her voice was sad. “Dad was killed sixteen days ago.”
“And you still had the mailer your CD came in?”
“They’re all still there.” She explained how she’d forgotten about the order she’d placed till last night, when she’d thought to check the tracking number. “Mom just gathered them up that day and stuck them in Dad’s study.”
“Do you remember the time on the tracking page?” I asked.
“I printed it out for the deputy—two thirty-eight.”
“Are packages routinely left on the deck?”
Trish shook her head. “They’re usually leaning against the front door if nobody’s home when they come.”
The twins appreciated the significance of what Trish was saying, but they were more interested in learning why her dad’s friendship with Norman Osborne seemed to have cooled in the month or so before his death.
“I really don’t know,” Trish told them, “but I’ve been thinking about it ever since Carla asked me. I did
