fter he got off work that night, Mick showed up on Maddie’s doorstep with silk neckties in one hand and another catnip mouse in the other. While he tied Maddie’s wrists, Snowball batted the mouse around, then later flagrantly disregarded the rules and passed out in Maddie’s office chair. Disregarding the rules was becoming a bad habit for Snowball. Just as Mick Hennessy was becoming a habit for Maddie. A habit she was eventually going to have to break, but there was a problem. Maddie liked spending time with him, in and out of bed, and that created another problem. She wasn’t getting a lot of work done. She hadn’t finished her notes or completed the timeline, and she really needed to do that before she sat down to write Chapter Two. She needed to remember why she was in Truly and get to work. No more dropping everything to have a good time with Mick, but when he called the next night and asked her to meet him at Mort’s after he closed for the night, she didn’t think twice. At twelve-thirty, she knocked on the back door wearing a red trench coat, four-inch pumps, and one of Mick’s blue neckties nestled between her bare breasts.

“Like the tie,” Mick said as he opened her coat.

“I thought I’d return it.”

He put his hands on her bare waist and brought her against his chest. “There’s something about you, Maddie,” he said as he looked into her eyes. “Something more than the way you make love. Something that makes me think about you when I’m pouring drinks or watching Travis strike out in T-ball.”

She put her arms around his neck and her nipples brushed the front of his polo shirt. Against her pelvis, he was enormous and ready. This was the part where she should tell him that she thought about him too, but she couldn’t. Not because it wasn’t true. It was true, but it was best to keep things platonic until he moved on.

Instead of talking, she brought his mouth down to hers and her hand slid to the front of his pants. What had started as a one-night stand had turned into more nights. He wanted to see more of her. She wanted to see more of him, but it wasn’t love. She did not love Mick, but she liked him a whole lot. Especially when he laid her on his bar and, between the bottles of alcohol, she caught glimpses in the mirror of his long hard body moving, driving, pushing her toward a release that curled her toes inside her pumps.

It was sex. Just sex. Ironically, the kind of relationship she’d waited four years to find. Nothing more, and if she were to ever forget that fact, she had only to remind herself that while she knew his body intimately, she didn’t even know his home phone number or where he lived. Mick might say that there was something about her, but whatever that something was, it wasn’t enough to want her in his life.

The morning of Snowball’s vet appointment, Maddie packed up her kitten and drove into town. August was the hottest month of summer, and the weatherman predicted that the valley would heat up to a scorching ninety-three degrees.

Maddie sat in an examination room and watched as veterinarian John Tannasee checked out her kitten. John was a tall man with hard muscles beneath his lab coat and a Tom Selleck moustache. His voice was so deep it sounded as if it came from his feet. He gently looked in Snowball’s ears and then checked her bottom, determining that Snowball was indeed a girl. He took her temperature and gave her a clean bill of health.

“Her heterochromia doesn’t appear to affect her vision.” He scratched her between the ears and pointed out her other genetic defect. “And her malocculusion isn’t so bad that it will affect her eating.”

Maddie understood what he’d meant by heterochromia, but, “Malocculusion?”

“Your cat has an overbite.”

Maddie had never heard of such a thing in a cat and didn’t quite believe it until he tipped the kitten’s head back and showed her Snowball’s upper jaw was a bit longer than the bottom. For some strange reason, the kitten’s oral affliction made Maddie kind of like Snowball.

“She’s bucktoothed,” Maddie said in astonishment. “She’s a hillbilly.” She made a follow-up appointment to get Snowball spayed so that she couldn’t produce any more big-headed hillbilly cats, then she and Snowball drove to the grocery store.

“Behave,” she warned her kitten as she pulled into the D-Lite Grocery Store’s parking lot.

“Meow.”

“Behave and maybe I’ll get some Whisker Lickin’s.” She groaned as she got out of the car and locked the door. Had she just said Whisker Lickin’s? She was embarrassed for herself. As she moved across the parking lot, she wondered if she was destined to become one of those women who doted on their cats and told boring cat stories to people who didn’t give a flying crap.

Once inside the grocery store, she loaded up on chicken breasts, salad, and Diet Coke. She couldn’t find Whisker Lickin’s, so she tossed in Pounce Caribbean Catch. She wheeled her cart to the front of the store and register five. A clerk by the name of Francine scanned the Pounce while Maddie dug around in her purse.

“How old’s your cat?”

Maddie looked up and into Francine’s long face surrounded by eighties Flashdance hair.

“I’m not sure. She just showed up on my deck and wouldn’t go away. I think she’s inbred.”

“Yep. That happens around here a lot.”

Francine’s eyes were slightly googly and Maddie wondered if she was talking about the cat or herself.

“I heard there’s a second suspect in your book,” Francine said as she scanned the chicken breasts.

“Pardon?”

“I heard you found a second suspect. That maybe Rose didn’t shoot Loch and the waitress and then herself. That maybe someone else came in and killed all three of them.”

“I don’t know where you heard that, but let me assure you it isn’t true. There is no other suspect. Rose shot Loch and Alice Jones, then turned the gun on herself.”

“Oh.” Francine looked a bit disappointed, but that could have been her uneven eyes. “Then I guess the sheriff isn’t going to reopen the investigation and call that Cold Case show.”

“No. There isn’t a second suspect. No Cold Case show, no movie deal, and Colin Farrell isn’t coming to town.”

“I heard it was Brad Pitt.” She scanned the last item and hit total.

“Good Lord.” Maddie handed over the exact cash and grabbed her groceries. “Brad Pitt,” she scoffed as she put the bags in the backseat.

When she got home, she fed Snowball brightly colored shaped fish and cooked herself lunch. She worked on the timeline for the book, writing down events as they unfolded minute by minute, moving them around, and tacking them to the wall behind her computer screen.

At ten that evening, Mick called and asked her to meet him at Mort’s. Her first instinct was to say she would. It was Friday night and she wouldn’t mind getting out, but something held her back. And that something had everything to do with the way her stomach got light at the sound of his voice.

“I’m not feeling well,” she lied. She needed to put some time and distance between them. A little breathing room. A break from what she feared was becoming more than casual sex. At least for her.

In the background she could hear the muffled sound of the jukebox competing with several dozen raised voices. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just going to bed.”

“I could come by later and check up on you. We don’t have to do anything. I could just bring you soup or some aspirin.”

She’d like that. “No, but thank you.”

“I’ll call you around noon tomorrow to check up on you,” he said, but he didn’t. Instead he showed up at her boat dock, wearing a white Cerveza Pacifico T-shirt, a pair of navy blue swim trunks that hung low on his hips, and driving a twenty-one-foot Regal.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked as he stepped into her house through the French doors.

He removed his sunglasses and she gazed up into his handsome face. “About what?”

“You were sick last night.”

“Oh.” She’d forgotten. “It was nothing. I’m over it now.”

“Good.” He gathered her up against his chest and kissed her hairline. “Change into your swimsuit and come with me.”

She didn’t ask where they were going or how long she’d be gone. As long as she was with Mick, she didn’t care. She pulled on her one-piece swimsuit and tied a blue wrap with red sea horses around her hips.

“Aren’t you getting tired of me yet?” she asked him as they walked toward his yellow and white boat.

His brows lowered and he looked at her as if the thought hadn’t entered his head. “No. Not yet.”

Mick gave her a tour of the lake and some of the truly spectacular cabins that could not be seen from the road. He handed Maddie a Diet Coke from the cooler and pulled out a bottle of water for himself.

Set in the cloudless August sky, the relentless sun warmed Maddie’s skin. At first it felt nice, but after an hour, trickles of sweat slid between her breasts and down the back of her neck. Maddie hated to sweat. It was one of the reasons she didn’t exercise. That and she didn’t believe in “no pain, no gain.” She was a believer in “no pain is a good thing.”

Mick dropped anchor in Angel Cove and shucked his white T-shirt. “Before the Allegrezza boys developed this area, we used to come here to swim every summer. My mom would bring us here and later Meg or I would drive.” He stood in the middle of the boat and looked out at the sandy shoreline, now dotted with big homes and docks filled with boats and Jet Skis. “I remember lots of bikinis and baby oil. Sand in my shorts and my nose peeling like crazy.” He kicked off his flip-flops and moved to the back. “Those were some good times.”

Maddie dropped the wrap from her hips and followed him. They stood side by side on the swimming platform. “Sand in your shorts doesn’t sound like a good time.”

He laughed. “No, but Vicky Baley used to come up out of the water in a string bikini that kind of slid around, and she had this amazing rack that—”

Maddie shoved him and as he teetered, he grabbed her wrist and they both went into the lake. He surfaced with a loud, “Whaaaa, that’s cold,” while Maddie surfaced, trying to catch her breath. The icy water stole the air from her lungs and Maddie grabbed on to the ladder at the back of the boat.

Mick’s quiet laughter skimmed along the rippled surface as he swam toward her.

She pushed her wet hair from her eyes. “What’s so funny?”

“You, getting all jealous over Vicky Baley.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Uh-huh.” He grabbed the edge of the swimming platform and said, “Her rack isn’t as good as yours.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Droplets of water fell from a strand of hair touching his forehead and ran down his cheek. “You have no reason to be jealous of anyone. Your body is beautiful.”

“You don’t have to say that. My breasts aren’t—”

He placed a finger on her lips. “Don’t do that. Don’t dismiss what I feel as if I’m just saying something to get into your pants. I’m not. I’ve already been in your pants and you’re amazing.” He placed his free hand behind her head and gave her a kiss that was all hot mouths and cool lips, drips of water and smooth gliding tongues.

When he kissed her like that, she felt amazing.

“I missed you last night,” he said as he pulled back. “I wish I didn’t have to work late tonight, but I do.”

She licked the taste of him from her lips and swallowed. “I understand.”

“I know you do. I think that’s why I like you so much.” He smiled at her. A simple little curve of his mouth that felt anything but simple. It pinched her chest and stole her breath and she knew she was in trouble. Big bad trouble, with a way of saying things that made her feel like she was drowning in his beautiful eyes. She dunked herself under and came up with her head tilted back and her hair out of her face. “We both work inconvenient hours,” she said and climbed up the ladder. She stood on the back of the boat and squeezed water from her hair. “But it works for us because we’re nocturnal and can sleep late.”

“And because you want me.” He climbed out of the water.

She looked at him out of the corners of her eyes. At his hard chest muscles and the line of wet, dark hair trailing down his abdomen and belly and disappearing beneath the waistband of his swimming trunks. “True.”

“And Lord knows I want you too.” He pulled up the anchor and put it in a side compartment. Then he moved to the captain’s chair and looked over at her while she tied her sarong around her hips.

“What?”

He shook his head and started the motor, a deep throaty churning of the prop. The boat rocked from side to side and Maddie took the companion seat. For several more seconds, Mick gazed at her before he finally looked away and pushed the throttle forward.

Maddie held her hair with one hand as they shot across the lake. Conversation was impossible, but she wouldn’t have known what to say. Mick’s behavior was a little odd. She’d thought she knew how to read most of his expressions. She knew how he looked when he was angry, when he was teasing and charming, and she certainly knew how he looked when he wanted sex. He was oddly quiet, as if he were thinking about something, and didn’t say much until they stood on her deck twenty minutes later.

“If I didn’t have to go to work tonight, I’d stay here and play with you,” he said.

“You can come back later.”

He sat in an Adirondack chair facing her and pulled the sarong from her hips. It fluttered to her feet. “Or you could come over tonight when I get off work.” He placed his hands on the backs of her thighs and brought her between his knees.

“To Mort’s?”

He shook his head and nibbled the side of her leg. “Throw some stuff in a bag and come over to my house. I know you like to fall asleep and have me gone in the morning, but I think we’ve moved beyond pretending this is nothing more than sex. Don’t you?”

Did she? It couldn’t be more. It could never be more. She closed her eyes and ran her fingers through his hair. “Yes.”

He softly bit the outside of her thigh. “I should probably pick you up so you don’t have to drive at night.”

This was bad. Wrong, but it felt so good. So right. “I can drive.”

“I know you can, but I’ll pick you up.”

From somewhere behind Maddie, a little voice asked, “What are you doing?”

Mick lifted his head and froze. “Travis.” He dropped his hands and stood. “Hey, buddy. What’s up?”

“Nothin’. What were you doing?”

Maddie turned to see Mick’s nephew standing on the top stair of the deck.

“I was just helping Maddie with her swimming suit.”

“With your mouth?”

Maddie laughed behind her hand.

“Well, ah…” Mick paused and looked at Maddie. It was the first time she’d ever seen him flustered. “Maddie had a thread,” he continued and pointed vaguely at her thigh, “and I had to bite it off for her.”

“Oh.”

“What are you doing here?” Mick asked.

“Mom dropped me off to play with Pete.”

Mick looked toward the neighbors’ deck. “Is your mother still at the Allegrezzas’?”

Trevor shook his head. “She left.” He looked from his uncle to Maddie. “You got more dead mice?”

“Not today. But I did get a cat and she’ll be old enough in a few months to kill them for me.”

“You have a cat?”

“Yeah. Her name is Snowball. She has different colored eyes and an overbite.”

Mick looked at her. “Seriously.”

“I’ll show you two boys.”

“What’s an overbite?” Travis asked as the three of them moved into the house.

M ick was home half an hour before his sister knocked on the door. She didn’t wait for him to answer.

“Travis told me he saw you kissing Maddie Dupree’s butt,” she said as she walked into the kitchen, where she found Mick fixing a sandwich before work.

He looked up. “Hello, Meg.”

“Is it true?”

“I wasn’t kissing her butt.” He’d been biting her thigh.

“Why were you there? Travis saw your boat at her dock. What is going on between the two of you?”

“I like her.” He sliced the ham sandwich and put it on a paper plate. “It’s not a big deal.”

“She’s writing a book about Mom and Dad.” She grabbed his wrist to get his attention. “She’s going to make us all look bad.”

“She says she’s not interested in making anyone look bad.”

“Bull. She’s digging up dirt to make money off our pain and suffering.”

He looked into his sister’s deep green eyes. “Unlike you, Meg, I don’t dwell on the past.”

“No.” She let go of his wrist. “You just choose to not think about it as if it didn’t happen.”

He picked up half the sandwich and took a bite. “I know what happened, but I don’t live it every day like you do.”

“I don’t live it every day.”

He swallowed and took a drink from a bottle of Sam Adams. “Maybe not every day, but every time I think you’ve finally moved on, something happens and it’s like you’re ten again.” He took another bite. “I’m going to live my life in the present, Meg.”

“You don’t think I want you to live your life? I do. I want you to find someone, you know I do, but not her.”

“You talked to her.” He was getting bored with the conversation. He liked Maddie. He liked everything about her, and he was going to keep seeing her.

“Only because I wanted her to hear that our mother wasn’t a crazy woman.”

He took another drink and set the bottle on the counter. “Mom was crazy.”

“No.” She shook her head and grabbed his shoulder to turn him toward her. “Don’t say that.”

“Why else would she kill two people and then herself? Why else would she leave her two children orphaned?”

“She didn’t mean to.”

“You say that, but if she’d just wanted to scare them, why did she load the.38?”

Meg dropped her hand. “I don’t know.”

He set his sandwich back on the plate and crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you ever wonder if she gave us a thought?”

“She did.”

“Then why, Meg? Why was killing Dad and then herself more important than her children?”

Meg looked away. “She loved us, Mick. You don’t remember the good things. Just the bad. She loved us and she loved Dad too.”

He wasn’t the one with the faulty memory. He remembered the good and the bad. “I never said she didn’t. Just not enough, I guess. You can stick up for her for another twenty-nine years, but I’ll never understand why she felt her only option was to kill Dad and then herself.”

She glanced at her feet and said just above a whisper, “I never wanted you to know, but…” She returned her gaze to his. “Dad was leaving us.”

“What?”

“Dad was leaving us for that waitress.” She swallowed hard, as if the word were stuck in her throat. “I heard Mom talking about it on the telephone to one of her friends.” She laughed bitterly. “Presumably one of her friends who hadn’t slept with Dad.”

His father had planned to leave his mother. He knew he should feel something, anger and outrage, maybe, but he didn’t.

“She’d put up with so much from him,” Meg continued. “The humiliation of the whole town knowing about all the sordid affairs. Year after year.” Meg shook her head. “He was leaving her for a twenty-four-year-old cocktail waitress and she couldn’t take it. She couldn’t let him do that to her.”

He looked at his sister, with her pretty eyes and black hair. The same sister who’d protected him as he’d protected her. Or as much as they’d been able. “And you’ve known about this for all these years and you didn’t tell me?”

“You wouldn’t have understood.”

“What’s not to understand? I understand that she killed him rather than let him divorce her. I understand that she was sick.”

“She wasn’t sick! She was pushed too far. She loved him.”

“That isn’t love, Meg.” He grabbed his plate and beer and walked out of the kitchen.

“Like you would know.”

That stopped him, and he turned back and looked at her from the small dining room.

“Have you ever been in love, Mick? Have you ever loved someone so much that the thought of losing her ties your stomach up in knots?”

He thought of Maddie. Of her smile and her dry humor and the buckedtoothed kitten that she’d taken into her house even though she professed to hate cats. “I’m not sure, but I am sure of one thing. If I ever did love a woman like that, I wouldn’t hurt her, and I sure as hell wouldn’t hurt any children I had with her. I might not know a lot about love, but I do know that.”

“Mick.” Meg moved toward him with her hands palms up. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

He set his plate on the table. “Just forget it.”

“I want the best for you. I want you to get married and have a family because I know you’d be a good husband and father. I know you would because I know how much you love me and Travis.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek on his shoulder. “But even if you don’t ever find someone, you’ll always have me.”

Mick drew breath into his lungs even as he felt as if he were suffocating.