“So you will try?”

“Certainly, if Roy consents.” Now he looked Roy straight in the eye.

Roy looked away. He brooded, and Giles thought perhaps Roy was going to be the dog in the manger.

Roy said, “Even if she is…happier with Dex, I don’t see how it solves the problem in the long run.”

“No, I’ll work on that. This is just a first step. I think Cleo needs to know about this problem of yours.”

Roy blushed again.

Giles appreciated that Dex did not say aloud what they both knew-that Roy had already “talked” to Cleo and more.

But Giles was surprised when Roy said, “I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Giles could have sworn that Roy had been working himself up to making private arrangements with Cleo, who-if things had reached that point-would have refused. Oh dear. If he was sincerely attached to his wife, that would be troublesome.

Now was not the time to worry over such things. They had four children to think about. Four very precious and special children.

Plans must be made carefully. But quickly as well.

When Roy left, Giles turned to Dex and said, “So, did you see him leaving Cleo’s place as you walked in?”

But Dex, much more discreet than Nelson or Roy, wouldn’t answer. He didn’t even smile. That, in and of itself, confirmed the information, thought Giles, who perhaps knew Dex better than Dex knew himself.

He would not press the point now. His cell phone was ringing, and as he looked at the display, he saw that the call was from the school psychologist, Jill Lowry.

He answered, saying, “One moment, Jill,” and muted the phone.

“New test scores in?” Dex asked.

“Yes. Will you please excuse me? I’ll call you in an hour about arrangements regarding Roy’s problems.”

“Of course.”

As the door shut quietly behind Dex, Giles found himself feeling unsettled, although he wasn’t exactly sure why. He nearly called Dex back, then glanced down at the phone in his hand. No, he had to take this call now. He unmuted the phone.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Jill,” he said. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Giles had a unique ability to completely and quickly change focus as needed. By the time he finished the call, any worries he had about Dex were forgotten.

CHAPTER 28

Wednesday, April 26

11:24 A.M.

LAS PIERNAS COUNTY

CORONER’S OFFICE

FRANK HARRIMAN had spent the morning going over autopsy results with a forensic pathologist, talking about a suicide case that the coroner had now declared a possible homicide. Frank’s partner, Pete, had just started a vacation-by now he was probably on a Hawaiian beach with his wife, Rachel-so Frank would be handling this one on his own.

He had a hunch that Pete would be back before they had anyone in custody. They were getting a late start, the scene had been released, so if it was a murder, they were going to have to be lucky to prove it, and in all likelihood the suspected killer was in the wind by now.

He was caught up in these thoughts, signing out at the receptionist’s desk, when he saw a blond man in a suit approaching the glass doors at the front of the building, a man who looked familiar to him. Everything about him said he was law enforcement, but he wasn’t in uniform, and Frank didn’t think he was armed. Young to be in detectives, but maybe undercover?

The automatic glass door slid back and the man walked in, then checked at the threshold when he saw Frank, but after this slight hesitation, he continued forward. Frank tried to place him. A member of the department, not a detective, but not in uniform now. He was carrying a large envelope.

“Can I help you?” the receptionist asked.

“Fletcher, isn’t it?” Frank asked, the name coming to him. Fletcher had been first on the scene at a couple of the calls Frank had caught on the west side of town.

The other man gave him a nervous smile and didn’t quite look into his eyes. “Yes, Detective Harriman. Dennis Fletcher.”

Frank wondered at the unease. He couldn’t think of anything he had ever said to the patrolman to make him react this way. Frank remembered him being bright and quick to catch on, and thought he’d be promoted before long. “I thought you were with the Westside Division-”

“I am, sir. My day off.”

Harriman raised a brow.

“I-I’m here about my cousin, sir. I-I think your wife found her?”

Did that explain the nervousness? “Sheila Dolson was your cousin? I’m sorry for your loss, Fletcher.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Frank thought over all Irene had told him about the woman. “Which side of her family are you related to?”

“Oh, we aren’t-We weren’t blood relatives. She was adopted by one of my grandfather’s foster children. My grandfather is Graydon Fletcher.

“Oh…”

“To be honest, sir, she’s sort of been estranged from the family. But of course we want to see that, you know, the burial and all are taken care of.”

“Your grandfather is certainly a generous man. I guess you’ve got a lot of aunts and uncles and cousins.”

Dennis Fletcher smiled, more relaxed now. “Yes, sir. ‘Cousins by the dozens,’ as we say.”

“One of the cousins had dinner with us last night,” Frank said. “Came by with Ben Sheridan.”

“Anna?” Dennis guessed.

Frank hid his surprise with a show of embarrassment. “No, I take it they’ve recently split up.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.”

“Yes,” said Frank. “A real shame.” Christ, he thought, what will I say next, These things happen? But the receptionist was asking Fletcher to sign in, so he seemed not to notice Frank’s discomfort. “Well,” Frank said quickly, “I’ve got to get going. Take care, Dennis.”

He hurried to the doorway.

He pretended not to hear Officer Dennis Fletcher call out, just as the automatic door closed between them, “If it wasn’t Anna-”

HE drove away from the parking lot, found a side street, and pulled over. He took out his cell phone.

After two rings, she answered. “Kelly.” Clearly distracted. Her keyboard clicked rapid-fire in the background.

“Don’t you look at the caller ID display before you answer?”

The clicking stopped before he finished the question.

“Frank!”

He smiled, hearing the sudden pleasure in her voice.

“Have lunch plans?”

“Not exactly, but…”

He knew that tone of voice, too. “You’re on a deadline and can’t get away. You’ve ordered takeout.”

“Sorry. I would have preferred eating with you.”

“Another time. Look, I want to ask you something, but between us, not for the paper, all right?”

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