guilty.'
He looked frustrated. 'She's not trying to make you look guilty.'
'Well, she certainly isn't looking for any other suspects.' I told him how she had found Lawrence so charming.He didn't seem surprised.
'She probably flirted with him to catch him off guard.'
'Isn't that against some police rules?'
Barry grinned. 'Not that I know of. I've heard of female uniforms who flirt with suspects to get them into the back-seatsof their cruisers. It's better than threats.'
'I don't know. It still doesn't sound right to me. Maybe she's interested in Lawrence.'
'No way,' he said a little too forcefully.
'You sound jealous,' I teased. Barry just groaned.
Barry got his wish, and when the food arrived, our conversationturned to more pleasant topics. When we'd finished,he suggested a walk along the beach.
The moonlight made the sand look blue, and it was bright enough to make shadows. Barry's arm felt protective around my shoulders as we walked just beyond the lights of the restaurant.
Much as I wanted to focus on the magic of the beach and the feeling of Barry's body heat mixing with mine, my mind went back to Natalie and Lawrence in the restaurant.
'You're a guy,' I said.
Barry chuckled. 'Last time I looked. Why?'
'You saw Lawrence and Natalie. For a moment or so, anyway. From a guy's point of view, don't you think they were acting like a couple?'
I could feel Barry's body tense.
'Remember the romantic-evening concept? No kids, no murders, no Lawrence-is-a-suspect,' he muttered.
'He spent the night with someone,' I blurted out. 'There were water glasses on both sides of the bed.' Barry stopped walking, and even without looking, I could feel his gaze focusingon me.
'And how do you know that?'
I considered how to answer. The sand felt cold on my bare feet, and the ocean shimmered in the distance. I just didn't think telling him about my snooping around the house and hiding in the closet was going to work.
'You don't have to answer. I don't want to know,' Barry said quickly. 'It's only going to upset me, isn't it?'
I started to say something, but Barry muttered somethingabout having a better idea; then he turned toward me, took me in his arms and started kissing me. Barry was an exceptional kisser. They were long, slow and deep. He never cut corners or, like some people, treated kisses like just a quick stop before the main event. As he leaned in to me, I let myself be carried away, and all thoughts of Natalieand Lawrence disappeared.
'Enough with the walking,' Barry said hoarsely when he finally released me. We were both a little breathless, and it wasn't from the exercise. He held on to my hand as we headed back to the car. 'Time for dessert.'
At first we drove in silence. I was nestled against him as he turned onto Topanga Canyon. The moonlight illuminatedthe jagged, empty mountain alongside the road. There was something wild about the area just in from the beach, and it looked as if we were a million miles from civilization.
By the time we drove through the town of Topanga, with its mixture of hippie shops and traditional stores, I sensed that Barry had something on his mind.
'Okay, I can't take it anymore. How did you know about the water glasses?'
'Are you sure you want to know?' I asked.
'It's going to upset me, isn't it?' he said.
'Probably.'
'Tell me anyway,' he said in a resigned tone.
I had to work my way up to the snooping part. I left out hiding behind the bush; that would have set Barry off right away. I told him about the group's going there for the squares and described in great detail all the things in Ellen's crochet room.
'You're stalling, aren't you?'
'Maybe a little.'
'So I'm really not going to like this.' Barry sighed. 'Just go for it. Tell me the bad part.'
And I did. All of it. Looking around Lawrence's bedroom,hiding in the closet. I didn't have to see Barry's face to know he was probably making all kinds of exasperated expressions.
'How did you escape?'
I thought he would choke when I said I'd climbed out of a window.
'Molly, how did you manage to take something as benign and nice as crocheting and turn it into trouble?' He blew out a puff of air. 'Never mind. But you have to promise me you won't ever do anything like that again. Do you know how much trouble you would have been in if he had found you?' I was sure Barry would have thrown up his hands if he hadn't been driving.
I looked out the window. We'd passed through the main part of the canyon and begun our descent into the Valley. As we went around hairpin curves, the lights spread before us. I recognized the main north-south streets by the stripes of white headlights heading in and by the red line of tail-lightsgoing out. Way in the distance, nestled against the north mountain, the lights of Porter Ranch shimmered.
Barry was waiting for my answer. This was my problem with our relationship. I didn't want to have to answer to him or to anyone. I didn't want to promise that I would or wouldn't do anything. But I also liked him, so I took the coward's way out. I put my hand on his thigh. When he sort of groaned/moaned in surprise and pleasure, I moved my hand up just a little. Not enough to really touch anything, but just enough to make him wish I would.
Suddenly he pressed the accelerator, and the truck jumped forward. We made the last part of the journey in record time, with no more questions or concerns about my detective work.
Barry was all hands-on, flirty and playful, as we walked across my back patio. I was surprised to see the lights on in the kitchen. Barry ignored my concern about the lights, nuzzling my neck and making some very specific promises of nice things he planned to do to me. The door pushed open when I leaned against the handle.
'Hi, Mom.'
I looked down the length of the kitchen. My younger son, Samuel, was making a grilled cheese sandwich on the stove. His gaze went to Barry, and his expression changed to the hangdog look I'd told Barry about.
Barry dropped his hands and stepped away from me. We were like two teenagers caught by our parents.
'I have news,' Samuel said to me, clearly ignoring Barry's presence altogether. Samuel was a couple of inches shorter than Peter, with a more solid build. He had sandy hair like Charlie's, though unlike his father, Samuel had a ponytail. He wore jeans and a black T-shirt with an open gray flannel shirt over it.
He pointed to the bouquet of stargazers and eucalyptus branches. The heavy, sweet scent of the flowers mixed with the clean scent of the leaves. I couldn't help but smile at how Samuel had remembered I liked flowers that had fragrance.
'And . . .' He pointed toward the bottle of sparkling lemonade chilling in an ice bucket. After Charlie died, Samuel had come close to developing a problem with alcohol,and had handled it by simply giving up drinking altogether.'I thought we could toast.' He glanced in Barry's direction. 'You're welcome to join us.'
That may have been what he said, but his tone implied just the opposite. Samuel had never been as openly hostile to Barry as Peter had been. But he was never genuinely friendly, either. He had taken Charlie's death harder than any of us. To him, my seeing Barry was cheating. And it forced Samuel to face the fact that his father was never coming back.
Barry sighed, and I could read his mind. He knew dessert had gotten cancelled.
'You and your mother toast your news. I was just bringingher home.' Barry kissed me on the check and headed back to the door. 'I'll call you later.'
As soon as Barry was gone, Samuel brightened. He was bursting with pride as he told me he'd gotten a music gig.
