“You never knew his name?” Jamie asked.
“I just said that.” Jill looked around the room, as if checking to see who was listening.
Jamie hesitated, not knowing how hard to push. This was more than she’d expected. “Dug Douglas thought he saw him with Emma at Jake’s Grill a couple of months before she was attacked.”
“Jake’s Grill?” Vicky seemed to surface a little from her own misery. “Not . . . Italian?”
“What do you mean?” Jamie asked.
“Oh, God, that’s right. Nona Emilia’s!” Jill breathed. “We thought it was a joke. Emma said something about always eating pasta. That was the Italian restaurant they supposedly went to.”
“I remember . . . she said she was sneaking out to meet him . . . your mom worked nights. I thought she was making it up.” Vicky stared at her wine glass. “Oh, I can’t drink anymore. I’ll just be a crying mess. I’ve got to go home and deal with things. And I’ve got a house to resell.”
Dread settled in Jamie’s chest. She had a mental picture of her sister creeping downstairs while Mom was at work and Jamie slept on, blissfully unaware.
The women were calculating how much each had spent. Jamie laid down enough money to cover her one barely touched glass with a healthy tip and walked away. Once again, she felt like she was having an out-of-body experience.
The wash of lights and the passing of a dark SUV as she walked across the parking lot woke her up. Suddenly, she was on high alert. Was she being paranoid, or was she really being followed?
She texted Cooper and told him she was on her way home, then spent the drive like a meerkat, head swiveling, eyes focused on all angles. She pulled into the drive and was relieved to see Cooper swing out of his SUV, which was parked at the curb. She ran to him, uncaring who saw, and threw herself into his arms.
“You’re trembling,” he said, worried. “What happened?”
“Nothing really. Just . . .” She looked over his shoulder, but the night was calm, only the faintest whisper of a breeze rustling the leaves of the trees.
“Let’s go inside.”
As soon as they were in the door, Duchess came to give Cooper another wary check, but he passed muster sooner this time. “I’ve got to get a dog door,” Jamie said, slightly embarrassed that her teeth were trying to chatter.
She took Duchess outside and Cooper followed her. Harley texted her that she was in her room and Emma was in hers, and that Duchess had been too nervous to be penned up.
“The dog knows something,” Cooper said.
“You were going to tell me something about Gwen,” Jamie whispered as they stood on the back porch, not wanting her voice to travel upstairs.
“I got a call late from the lab. Gwen’s tea was loaded with tetrahydrozoline.”
“What?”
“It’s found in eye drops. Enough of it slows the heart. In this case, it stopped Gwen’s.”
“Oh . . . no.” Jamie’s shoulders sagged, and once more, Cooper pulled her into his arms. She closed her eyes and drew a breath. “It really was suicide, then?”
“That’s what we need to find out. The department’s looking into Gwen’s finances and her client record, which could fall under doctor/client privilege unless someone deliberately spiked her drink. I want to talk to her parents. Find out what they think.”
Duchess came over and nuzzled Jamie’s hand, even pressing her nose into Cooper’s palm. “I see we’re becoming friends,” he said as he and Jamie headed back inside, Duchess’s nails tapping alongside them.
They walked through the house and shared a kiss before Cooper headed out onto the porch. “While I’m waiting for Gwen’s parents, I’m going to check into the Metcalf homicide. See if there’s anything more there.”
“I’m substituting again, could be for a few more days.”
“All right. I’ll keep in touch.” He headed out the door.
Jamie stood at the window, watching him walk across the street. She heard the chirp of his remote lock. A car drove by and she gave it a sharp look, but it was a white sedan.
She could feel a cold spot in the small of her back. Oh, come on. Get over yourself.
She turned back. Emma stood, silent in her white pajamas.
Jamie gave an aborted shriek of terror, then said, “Emma! God, you scared me!”
Her eyes were wide and dark.
“What is it?” Jamie asked, as Duchess, who’d been lying on the mat at the front door looked at her mistress and froze. “Emma?” Jamie said, spooked.
“You have to be careful. They’ll try to blame you. Kill you.”
“Who do you mean?”
“The man in the ski mask,” she said, clear as a bell.
“The man who attacked you?” Jamie clarified.
“I heard Harley. She said someone came after her friend.”
Jamie nodded. It wasn’t a surprise that Emma had learned of the attack on Marissa. “Do you remember the night you were attacked?” she asked cautiously.
Emma clapped her hands to her ears and closed her eyes.
“Was he wearing a ski mask?”
She slowly dropped her hands. “It wasn’t Cooper who came back.”
“No, no, it wasn’t. We believe it was Dug.”
Her eyes flew open. “Patrick Dug Douglas.”
“That’s right,” said Jamie.
“He came back.”
“We think so. Was he the one . . . or did maybe someone else come after he left?”
Duchess started whining, and Emma stepped to the window, peering out cautiously. “He’s following me again.”
“Again?” The hair rose on Jamie’s arms.
“I see him in my dreams. You should move into Mom’s room, Jamie.” She dropped the curtain and started heading for the stairs.
“Did you have a boyfriend, then?” Jamie asked quickly. “Someone who liked pasta as much as you do?”
“No.”
Realizing she’d been pushing because she was so certain she was on the right track, Jamie pulled herself back.
“He liked it more than me,” she said.
“Who was he, Emma?” Jamie breathed.
For a stretched moment she didn’t answer. She turned for the stairs and started heading that way. And then her voice floated back to Jamie.
“He
