"I'm going in for a drink, okay? Whipping Uncle Carter was thirsty work."

"Smart-mouth."

Carly grinned at her uncle and ran for the door. With a sigh, Phoebe sat on the circular bench around the courtyard's little fountain.

Here, she could not only see Ava's roses but smell them. She could hear the birds sing, and admire the tenacity of the thyme and chamomile that spread between the cracks of the pavers, the sweet faces of the violas that danced around a copper birdbath.

Here, with the brick walls and wrought-iron gates, Ava had created a personal sanctuary where shade dappled through moss onto benches and tea olives perfumed the air.

"God! It feels good to sit outside."

"Josie give you the thumbs-up?"

"Yeah, yeah."

He sat, slipped an arm around Phoebe's shoulders. "We get to worry about you. It's part of the package."

She leaned her head on his shoulder. "We all had a scare. It's over now."

"I remember how long it took me to get over being scared."

"Carter, you were just a little guy."

"That doesn't matter, and you know it. You looked after me. And you stood between me and Cousin Bess for years after."

"Old bitch. Which is mean and ungrateful, however true, when we're sitting here in her pretty courtyard while other people are baking pies and ham in the kitchen."

"It's Ava's courtyard," Carter said, and made Phoebe smile.

"Yes, it is. And really, even during the tyrant's reign, it was Ava's. Do you ever think how she was younger than we are now when she started working here? Barely twenty-two, wasn't she? And to have the spine to stick it out, to stand up to Cousin Bess."

"You had it at twelve," Carter reminded her. "And you're still looking after us. She knew you'd stay because Mama has to. She could've left Mama the house, after all Mama did for her, but she put it on you, with strings. Locked you in here."

There was no point in denying the truth, every word of truth. And still, it was too lovely a day for bitter old memories. "Locked me in this beautiful house, where my daughter thrives. It's not what we can call a sacrifice."

"It is. It always was. You let me walk away."

She took a firm grip on his hand. "Not very far. I don't think I could stand it if you went very far away."

He smiled, pressed his lips to her hair. "I'd miss you too much. But I'll tell you one thing, Phoebs, I never knew how much I needed to move out of this house until I did it. You never really had a chance."

"I had my time away." College, Quantico, my disaster of a marriage. "I'm happy to be back. I especially like being able to sit out here while three other women put Sunday dinner together."

"That's only because you're a lousy cook."

"Lousy's an exaggeration. I'm an unreliable cook."

"No, you're reliably lousy."

She laughed and poked him in the ribs. "You burn even the thought of food, so you're one to talk."

"That's why they invented takeout and delivery. You won't need to cook if you play your cards right with the rich guy. He's probably got a couple of chefs on staff."

"Listen to you." She gave him another, zestier poke. "Playing my cards. Plus, I don't think he actually has a staff." She frowned over that a moment. She didn't think he had one, but really, how would she know?

"I see he sent more flowers. Looked like a few thousand of them in the parlor."

"A couple dozen lilacs." That smelled so, so lovely. "He seems to be a man who likes to make gestures."

"I got the look from Josie when she saw them." Hissing out a breath, Carter narrowed his eyes at the kitchen windows. "Guys who make gestures make other guys make gestures, and now I'm going to have to remember to bring home flowers next week like I thought of it myself."

"You ought to think of it yourself. I have no sympathy for you."

"I brought her home her favorite panini and a cheap bottle of wine just a few days ago, and I ought to get credit for it. But I'm outdone by some forest of lilacs."

"You used the cheap wine to get lucky."

He grinned. "'Course I did. Well, megabucks aside, and having only met him once, I already like him more than I did Roy."

"You never liked Roy at all, so that's not saying much."

He shifted, pointed in that smug, brotherly way. "And who was right?"

She rolled her eyes. "You were. Shut up. Besides, I got the grand prize out of the bastard." She looked over as the door slammed open and Carly raced out.

"Mama! Uncle Dave's here!"

The minute he stepped out, the instant Phoebe saw his face, she knew. She kept her own blank as she pushed to her feet. "Carter, I want to talk to Dave just a minute. Can you take Carly in, keep her occupied?"

"Sure. Hey, Dave."

They didn't shake as many men did, or do the one-armed, backslapping man hug as others did. They hugged, Phoebe thought; as always it made her smile. It was a good, strong embrace; it was father to son. "You'll have to excuse me and Carly. I have to reestablish my dominance and whoop her at WWE SmackDown."

"As if!" Hooting with challenge, Carly raced back inside the house. "You look better," Dave began.

"So I'm told. Over and over. What happened?"

"They made a deal. I wanted to tell you in person. Phoebe, there was a lot of pressure from the brass on this, from the DA's office-"

"It doesn't matter." She sat again, needed to sit again. "What did they give him?"

"He's off the job, immediately. No benefits. He pleads guilty to simple assault-"

"Simple assault," she repeated. She'd prepared herself, and still she was stunned.

"It carries one-to-three, suspended. He'll get probation. He'll be required to take anger management and serve twenty hours' community service."

"Does he have to write on the blackboard a hundred times: 'I promise to be a good boy'?"

"I'm sorry, Phoebe." He crouched in front of her, laid a hand on her knee. "It's a bad deal. They want to put it away. You don't have to put it away. If you decide to file civil charges against him, I'll stand behind you on it. And I won't be the only one in the department who does."

"I can't put my family through that. Honestly, I don't know if I could put myself through it." She closed her eyes and reminded herself that not all deals were fair, not all deals settled the score. "He did what he did. Everyone who counts knows it." She let out a long breath before looking Dave in the eye again. "He can't be a cop anymore. The rest, it's not important. He's off the job, and that's what's right. That's what's needed. I'm okay with it."

"Then you're a better man than I, kid."

"No. I'm pissed. I'm seriously pissed, but I can live with it. We're going to eat sugar-glazed ham and lemon meringue pie. And Arnie Meeks? He's going to be eating disgrace for a very long time." She nodded. "Yeah. I can live with that."