made, even if only in its beginning stages.
By last night she had almost convinced herself that Gray couldn’t have been the man she saw on the second journey, the one when she had encountered Amber. But why did he appear to have a facial scar outside the shop when she could see no trace of it now?
She didn’t have the luxury of blaming her mind for playing tricks….
“I think we should—”
“Here we are,” Gray said. He hopped out of the cab and ran around to her side.
Once she was on the sidewalk, he paid off the taxi driver and turned her toward a classic Creole cottage. Faced with red brick, shutters beside the door and windows were dark green. Arched dormer windows in the roof flanked a single chimney. Although the front of the house was flush with the sidewalk, overflowing window boxes and hanging baskets softened the facade. These cottages usually had a garden at the back.
“This is so pretty,” she said. “I’ve always liked these cottages. This is one of the later ones, isn’t it?”
“We’ve done a lot of work on it,” Gray said. He looked the place over. “The second story was added, and the sunroom. I grew up here. It was a great place for that. Come on in.”
They found Gus Fisher in the sunroom Gray had mentioned, leaning forward in his wheelchair to water plants along a windowsill. He turned as soon as they stepped down from a small kitchen onto the red tiled floor in a glass-enclosed area where pots lined most surfaces.
“Hey, what do we have here?” he said to Gray with a huge grin on his too-thin face. “Who have you dared to bring me? I’m tough, you know, ma’am, don’t take to strangers easily.”
Gray laughed and so did his father.
Marley looked from one to the other, searching for family likenesses. She didn’t find any. Gus’s hair was still more sandy than gray and he had nothing of Gray’s dark blond elegance. From the set of the man’s frame, Gus must have been a big man before the flesh fell away, but Marley visualized him more as a workhorse than a racehorse. His big-knuckled hands dwarfed a long-spouted green plastic watering can.
“This is Marley, Dad,” Gray said. “A friend of mine.”
Gus’s bushy brows shot up. He had bright blue eyes. “Hats off to your taste, son. She’s a pretty thing.”
Gray shrugged and grinned at her. He seemed perfectly comfortable with Gus’s forthright approach.
“You’re a surprise,” Gus said. “I thought your species had died out.”
Confused, Marley smiled politely.
“A woman my son brings home. Never happened before.”
“Quit blabbing,” Gray said. “I’ve got secrets I want to keep, like you, you old coot. You think I’d risk letting you meet just anyone?”
“Nope,” Gus said. His smile had disappeared. “Nope, I don’t reckon I think that at all.”
He gave Marley a look that lasted long enough to make her uncomfortable.
“Everything okay with you?” Gray asked his dad hurriedly.
“You bet.” He frowned at his son. “What’s on your mind? Can you talk about it in front of Marley, or do we get her some earplugs?”
Marley put a hand over her mouth to hide a grin.
“She doesn’t need earplugs.”
“I’m part of the problem,” she said, surprising herself. “I mean—”
“You mean you’re part of the problem,” Gus cut in. “I already figured that out. But I’m betting Gray’s just as much involved. He’s got a way of falling in the middle of things. Gray, where are your manners? Get Marley settled.”
“Yessir,” Gray said, smiling at Marley.
Her heart made an unaccustomed flip.
“You can have the rocker with the patchwork quilt, or the rocker with the sunflower quilt. Take your pick.”
Marley took the patchwork.
“What time is it?” Gus said.
“Four already,” Gray said, looking at his watch. “This day has gone by fast.”
“They tend to when you’re having fun,” Gus said, his expression innocent. “I’ll take a little whiskey. It’s early, but what the hell.”
“You’ve got it.” Gray poured from a bottle on a wheeled cart with a floral tablecloth draped over it. “Same for you, Marley?”
She saw the wisp of a smile on his lips and almost called his bluff. “I’ll pass, thank you. I’m a cheap drunk so I avoid strong stuff most of the time.”
“Let me know when you feel like letting your resolve sag,” Gray said.
She ignored that and said, “Do I see iced tea?”
“Sure do,” Gray said and filled two tall glasses.
“You were late last night,” Gus said to Gray. “Or this morning. Then you were gone before I got up. You any farther forward with this thing?”
Gray raised one eyebrow.
“Don’t play cute with me,” Gus said. “I’ve still got friends in the right places and even if I didn’t, I can put the pieces together from what information they’ve put out to the public. We’d better be praying the one body is the only one. Gator attack, huh? How does that fit in with murder?”
“Damned if I know,” Gray said.
Gus coughed. “That woman, Pipes, showed up again so the others could, too.”
Marley wound her hands together tightly. She avoided meeting eyes.
“But you don’t think so, Marley,” Gus said. “You think there are at least two more dead women.”
“If they aren’t dead now I think they’re going to be.” She closed her mouth, shocked that she’d just made such an announcement.
“Gus is one of those cops who get you talking without you even knowing what’s happening,” Gray said. “And he’s got the kind of intuition you’re born with. He knows this town and he respects elements some of us try to pretend don’t exist.”
What exactly did all that mean?
Gus looked at her intently. Despite the deep vertical lines in his face, his stooped back and the way his check shirt and khaki pants hung against bony limbs, life sparked in his face and a quick smile. He watched her quizzically.
“Are you waiting for me to say something?” she asked at last.
“Only if you want to,” Gus said. “Some of us carry secrets with us. Secrets or suspicions or even knowledge —mostly about people or a person—that we’d like to share with someone else. First we have to decide when we’ve found the right one to trust with our mysterious stuff. Then there’s another decision—whether it’s a good idea to share even if you have found the right person. Truth can hurt. It can be more than someone’s ready to deal with.”
Marley glanced at Gray. He took a deep breath and brought Marley her glass of tea. “Gus doesn’t always want an answer,” he said, meeting her eyes.
Their fingers touched against the glass.
Marley inhaled sharply. The skin on her face tightened and grew cold. She barely stopped herself from reaching her face up toward him.
Gray smiled a little and brushed her cheek with the back of a finger.
Then they both stopped breathing.
“My God,” he murmured.
Marley’s heart beat double time, and where he had touched her, the skin pulsed.
“This is all about the big story, isn’t it?” Gus said. “Those women are some of the ones you’re writing about, Gray.”
“Yes. I need to get on with writing about them, too.”
“Did you talk to Nat Archer yet? He’s bound to find out you knew them.”
Gus and Nat were mutual fans.
“Yes,” Gray said. “I went to him first.” He explained how yesterday had unfolded, but stopped short of talking
