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  “He called a few times after it first happened,” Ian said. “I know he really liked her. I still see him now and then, when I’m out riding.”

  “Out riding?”

  “My motorcycle. Sam has a bike too.”

  Lucianna was struck by a vision of Ian balanced on a Harley. Blond wavy hair windblown, dark sunglasses, glistening muscles. She shook off the image and struggled to keep that professional tone to her voice. “And Sam hadn’t seen your mother that weekend?”

  “No. At least I don’t think so.”

  “Could I get a recent picture of your mother?” Lucianna asked. “I’d like to show it at the grocery store she went to. See if anyone remembers seeing her there with a man.”

  “Sure. Do you want me to drop it by your office in the morning?”

  “Actually, I’d like to see your mother again, if that’s okay. Maybe tomorrow?”

  A car door slammed and someone shouted to Ian. To Lucianna, he said, “Sorry. Hold on a minute.” Again his hand covered the phone and Lucianna listened to the muffled voices. A minute later he said to her, “I can get away for a couple hours tomorrow afternoon, if that works for you.”

  “Perfect.”

  “Do you want to come to my house?” Ian asked. “My mother will probably do better there than at your office.”

  “That’s fine. What time?”

  “Two o’clock?”

  “Great,” Lucianna replied. “I’ll see you then.”

  She switched her phone off and rested her head in her hands. She needed to get a grip on herself. This was ridiculous.

  Maybe she should go out tonight and find someone for a night of mindless sex. That might take the edge off so she wouldn’t feel like ripping her client’s clothes off every time she spoke to him.

  Immediately she realized that would be useless. She’d probably spend the entire evening comparing the guy to Ian. Wasn’t that a crazy thought. She was definitely doomed.

  “You’re blushing,” Rob said.

  “I am not,” Ian said.

  “Yeah, you are,” Rob insisted.

  “I don’t blush.”

  “Sudden sunburn, then?”

  Ian scowled, turned back toward the garage they were in the midst of tearing down. He and Rob had hired three men to help. The youngest, an 18-year-old college student, swung a sledgehammer at one of the walls. He was enjoying the destruction entirely too much.

  “You think we’ll have this down by the end of Monday?” Ian asked.

  Rob shrugged. “Probably. That your lady detective on the phone?”

  Ian glanced back at Rob, saw the smirk, and groaned. “Let it go, Rob.”

  “You going to ask her out?”

  “Don’t you have something better to do?”

  “Better than razzing you? I rather doubt it.”

  “I’m not going to ask her out,” Ian said.

  “Why not? You want to.”

  “Yeah. And I also want to have sex with Angelina Jolie. That ain’t gonna happen either.”

  “Could happen,” Rob said. “Though I think you’ve got a better chance with the lady detective.”

  “You want to get back to work now?” Ian asked.

  “No. I want to talk about the lady detective.”

  Ian rolled his eyes. “You’re an ass.”

  “And you’re blushing.”

  Ian started toward the garage. He called over his shoulder, “I do not blush!”

  Rob chuckled and called back, “Then you turn red when you’re horny!”

  Chapter 14

  Corinne picked up the bottle of J’Adore perfume, stared at it, placed it back on her dresser. Her hands shook slightly and the bottle wobbled as she tried to steady it. She couldn’t remember if she’d already put the perfume on. She tried to smell it on herself. Lifting her blouse to her nose, all she could smell was fabric softener.

  She reached for the bottle again but stopped midway and spun around. Maybe she could just stay here in her room all day. Not go out to the living room. Not let anyone in. Maybe it would all just go away.

  That made her sad because Lucianna was coming. And she liked Lucianna. Luci. It was okay to call her Luci.

  Luci and Ian wanted her to remember. That was why she needed to stay in her room. Because she couldn’t remember. She’d die if she remembered.

  Corinne sat on her bed, hugged her knees to her chest, and thought about dying. The casket would be mahogany. That was her favorite.

  But then the bugs would get inside her. And that terrified her almost as much as remembering.

  ***

  By the time Lucianna arrived, Corinne had forgotten why she didn’t want to leave her bedroom. She sat in her rocker, reeking of J’Adore, and sipping coffee with lots of cream. Lucianna watched her, all the while trying to imagine what could have driven her so far from sanity.

  A pleasant breeze fluttered the curtains. The coffee mug shook in Corinne’s hand. She stopped rocking and stared at the window as if it had just spoken to her. “They might be out there,” she said softly.

  Ian gently took the mug and placed it on the coffee table. “It’s okay, ma,” he said. “You’re safe.”

  Corinne continued to stare at the window. She began chanting, “Out there. Out there.”

  “I’ll go look,” Ian said. He squeezed Corinne’s hand. “I’ll check, ma. You relax. It’s okay.”

  As Ian crossed the room to the window, Lucianna said, “Corinne, who do you think is out there?”

  Silence. Corinne began rocking once again. Her rocking kept rhythm with the ticking of the small clock on the mantel.

  Ian returned. He knelt in front of his mother’s chair, making sure she saw him there. “No one is outside, ma. It’s only the wind. Do you want me to close the window?”

  Corinne shook her head. “Blowing in the wind,” she said. “That’s a song. Isn’t that a song?”

  “Bob Dylan,” Lucianna replied. “He sings it.”

  Corinne sang softly, “The answer is blowing in the wind.”

  “Do you like music?” Lucianna asked.

  Corinne cocked her head, as if contemplating the question. After a moment she said, “I used to.”

  “You don’t anymore?”

  “Memories.”

  “Music brings back memories?” Lucianna asked.

  “Yes. Misty water-colored memories. That’s a song, too.”

  Ian had moved back to the couch. He was picking at a thread in the seam of his jeans. Lucianna met his eyes and he lifted his shoulder in a slight shrug.

  “That’s a Barbra Streisand song,” Lucianna said, turning back to Corinne. “Do you like it?”

  “What’s too painful to remember.” Corinne sang. “We simply choose to forget.”

  Lucianna slid to the edge of the couch, getting as close to Corinne as possible. She kept her voice soft and said, “Would it be okay if I ask you a couple of questions?”

  “Questions and answers,” Corinne said. “Like a game show. Do you watch Jeopardy?”

  “No,” Lucianna replied. “Not usually. Do you?”

  “The questions are too hard. I can’t remember.” Corinne face suddenly brightened into a smile. “Ian says the people on that show store so much useless information that they have no room left for personalities.”

  Lucianna chuckled. She glanced at Ian, as his lips curved into a smile, and wondered what it would be like to kiss those lips. Definitely not the direction her mind should be moving in. What was wrong with her? She said, “Corinne, do you remember the grocery store that you shop in? The Food Mart?”

  Corinne nodded. “Ian takes me there sometimes. They have a nice bakery. I think we still have some cookies we bought there. Do you want some?”

  “No thank you,” Lucianna replied. “I actually wanted to ask you something about that store. Do you remember shopping there by yourself a few months ago?”

  Corinne hesitated. “I suppose.”

  “You met a man there. I think
his name was Ben. Do you remember him?”

  For a moment Corinne’s face showed a lack of comprehension. Then she grinned and said, “He was nice. And very…”

  Her words faded as her eyes suddenly grew wide. She rocked faster, shook her head back and forth. Ian quickly went to her side, knelt beside her, and took her hand. “What is it?” he asked.

  Corinne began chanting. “Can’t remember. Can’t remember. Can’t remember.”

  Ian spent a few moments speaking softly, doing what he could to bring her back. But Corinne’s eyes had glazed over. Her chanting kept time with her rocking and the clock. Finally he sighed, let go of her hand, and stood.

  Lucianna rose and they stepped a few feet away. Keeping her voice low, Lucianna said, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know how else to approach this.”

  “Me either,” Ian replied. “No reason to be sorry.”

  “Does she react like that often? I mean, to insignificant things?”

  Ian gave a helpless shrug. “I don’t know. She reacts to all sorts of stuff. I just never know what’s significant and what’s not.” He glanced back at his mother. The pain was visible on his face. “Do you think this guy Ben has something to do with all of this? Do you think he did something to her?”

  “That would make sense,” Lucianna replied. “Right now I don’t know. But I’m going to do my best to find out.”

  “I should be doing something more.”

  “You’re doing everything you can for her. More than most sons would.”

  Ian met her eyes and smiled. “Thanks.”

  A sudden warmth spread through Lucianna’s body. She could act upon it. Wrap her arms around him. Press against his hard body and taste his lips. Or she could do the smart thing and turn away, get moving, go home. Flee the scene like a guilty criminal. Was that the smart thing? Or was that the safe thing to do?

  Lucianna turned away from Ian’s blue eyes. “I’ll be in touch next week. If she says anything you feel might be at all significant, give me a call. I won’t be in the office over the weekend but I wrote my cell phone number on the back of the business card I gave you. Feel free to use it.”

  Nothing like being subtle, Lucianna thought. She may as well hand him an engraved invitation to her apartment for a night of uninhibited sex.

  “I won’t bug you unless it’s something really important,” Ian said. “I know how it is to get business calls on your day off.”

  So much for worrying about subtlety. Maybe she should go for that engraved invitation after all. She considered a line such as ‘I really don’t mind’. Instead, she smiled and said, “We’ll figure this out. Try not to worry.”

  “I appreciate all your help.”

  As she walked to her car, she felt the heat of his gaze upon her and had to fight the childish urge to give her hips that little extra shake.

  Chapter 15

  “Nice coffee stain,” Ian remarked as Rob climbed out of his truck. “That is coffee, right?”

  “Smart ass.” Rob glanced down at the circular brown stain on the crotch of his jeans. “Some psycho bitch cut me off on the highway.”

  “Psycho bitch?”

  “You should’ve seen her. Cell phone in one hand, jabbering away like she’s getting paid by the word. The way she cut into my lane, you’d have thought my damn truck had just gone invisible.”

  Rob reached in his passenger side window, popped open the glove box, and grabbed the ancient pack of Marlboros. “Good driving and a lot of luck kept me from slamming into her. Then she flips me off, like I’ve got no business driving where she wants to be.”

  Ian pursed his lips to keep from grinning. Rob rarely got worked up. But when he did it was almost comical to watch.

  “She’s flipping me off with one hand,” Rob continued. “And she’s still clutching the phone with the other. Her mouth never stopped moving. I couldn’t tell whether she was mouthing off to me or still jabbering to the unfortunate soul on the other end of the line. Either way, both her hands were busy, neither one holding the damn wheel.”

  Rob frowned at the pack of cigarettes in his hand, then tossed them back into the glove box and flipped the door closed. “Crazy bitch.”

  Ian stepped closer to Rob. Nearly three inches taller, Ian easily peered down at the top of his head. Ian did a slow circle around him, inspecting his hair from every angle, all the while murmuring, “Hmmm…”

  “What the hell are you doing?” Rob said.

  “Just looking at all these new white hairs. Seems they’re multiplying by the minute here.”

  “You’re just jealous ‘cause you know women find it sexy.”

  “Uh-huh,” Ian said. “Nothing like a guy getting that senior citizen discount at Wal-Mart to turn a woman on.”

  “Hey, at least I still got all my hair. I bet all your blond locks are going to fall out.”

  “You think pubic hair falls out, too?

  “Hell if I know,” Rob replied. “Why don’t you go find a bald guy and ask?”

  “I might just do that.”

  Rob was now smirking. “I think you’ve gone over the edge, McCormick.”

  “Feel better now?” Ian asked.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Rob muttered. “Let’s get to work.”

  They had finished tearing down the original garage on Saturday. It had been separate from the house, sitting approximately 300 yards away. The owners wanted the new garage to be attached to the house and much larger.

  The two men began removing their tools from the back of their trucks. After a few moments, Rob called out, “How’s your lady detective?”

  Ian sighed. Rob had apparently worked through his crankiness. “I didn’t ask her out, Rob.”

  “Afraid she’ll say no?”

  Actually, he was. But no way was he going to admit that to Rob. He said, “It’s totally unprofessional.”

  Rob laughed. “Any of the women we did work for ever come on to you?”

  “That’s got nothing -”

  “Answer the question.”

  “Yeah. And I refused because it would have been unprofessional.”

  Rob laughed even harder. “No, you refused because one was already having a love affair with Ben and Jerry’s and the other was married to a cop. Even you’re not that stupid!”

  Ian snapped on his tool belt. “It still would’ve been unprofessional.”

  “Yeah, okay,” Rob said. “You keep telling yourself that. And pretend if your lady detective had been one of those customers asking you out that you would have said no because it was ‘unprofessional’.”

  Ian ignored him. Knowing the guy was right made it hard to give a snappy comeback. As they walked toward the pile of lumber, Rob said, “That job out in Dover that we did the estimate on? The old house needing all the work?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Owners okayed the estimate. We start in a few weeks, right after we’re done here.”

  Ian nodded. “Good.”

  “Job should take us through the first of the year.”

  “Let’s take a couple of weeks off after. It’s too damn cold to work in January anyway.”

  “Sounds good,” Rob said. “Alison’s been wanting to get away for a week or so. Maybe we’ll go down to Bermuda or something.”

  “Good idea.”

  “You want to come? You could bring your lady detective.”

  Ian groaned. “She’s not -”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Rob said through his laughter. “Save your excuses. You know you want her.”

  Ian didn’t bother to reply. Arguing was pointless. Rob was right.

  ***

  A brisk wind blew the multi-colored leaves across the pavement. Yesterday Lucianna had had all the windows in her condo wide open. This morning she’d grudgingly turned her heat on, all the while cursing the rotten smell that burst through the vents with that first rush of warm air. That smell reminded her that she needed to have her heating system cleaned. It also made her question, as she did every fall, why s
he stayed in Massachusetts.

  Now she clutched her jacket tight at the neck in a vain attempt to ward off the chill. Gray clouds covered the early morning sky, casting everything in a dull shadow. Nothing like the unpredictable New England seasons to keep boredom at bay.

  She pulled open the door to her office building, instantly grateful for climate control. She found Vinnie seated behind his desk, as if he never left that spot. She’d come to the conclusion that he did not sleep.

  “Good morning,” Vinnie said brightly.

  “Good morning,” Lucianna said. She walked around to his side of the desk and kissed his cheek. “How was your weekend?”

  “Quite enjoyable, actually,” Vinnie replied. “Miranda stopped by with the kids. We made sundaes and watched Nickelodeon. However, I must say that I prefer Bugs Bunny to this new variety of cartoons.”

  “How are the girls doing?” Lucianna asked.

  “Very well. Emma loves kindergarten. And Julia is jealous. Can’t understand why she must wait an additional two years.”

  “I haven’t seen them since they spent that weekend with me back in August.” Lucianna lifted her briefcase to the top of the desk, shook her head, sighed. “Some auntie I am. Time just goes by too quick.”

  “No,” Vinnie said. He gave Lucianna an appraising look as he leaned back in his chair. “Time is constant. No different for any two people at any given point in time. It’s a matter of what you do with your time. You, my dear, work too much.”

  Lucianna tucked a strand of curls behind her ear. She said, “Don’t you even dare lecture me on working too much. Aren’t you supposed to be retired?”

  “We’re not discussing me.”

  With a chuckle, Lucianna popped open her briefcase. “I’ve got a project for you. Should keep you out of trouble on those sleepless nights.”

  “More likely to get me into trouble.”

  “Not if you behave yourself.”

  “Impossible.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Lucianna took a sheet of paper from the stack in her briefcase and handed it to Vinnie. “That’s just one of the many things I love about you, Vinnie.”