When they finished the embrace, Karen sort of gestured with her head. The two women started out of the room. Terese reached back and grabbed my hand, so I went too. We headed into what the British probably called the "drawing room" and Karen closed the pocket doors. The two women sat on a couch as though they had done it a thousand times and knew their exact spots. No awkwardness.

Terese looked back at me. "This is Myron," she said.

I put out my hand. Karen Tower shook it with her tiny one. "I'm sorry for your loss," I said.

"Thank you." Karen turned back to Terese. "Is he your…?"

"It's complicated," Terese said.

Karen nodded.

I pointed back with my thumb. "Do you guys want me to wait in the other room?"

"No," Terese said.

I stayed where I was. No one was sure how to go on, but I sure as heck wasn't going to take the lead. I stood as stoically as I could.

Karen cut right to it. "Where have you been, Terese?"

"Here and there."

"I've missed you."

"I've missed you too."

Silence.

"I wanted to reach you," Karen said. "And explain. About Rick and me."

"It wouldn't have mattered," Terese said.

"That's what Rick said. It happened slowly. You were gone. We started spending time together, for companionship. It took a long time before it became more."

"You don't need to explain," Terese said.

"Yeah, I guess not."

There was no apology in her voice, no waiting for forgiveness or understanding. They both seemed to get it.

Terese said, "I wished it ended better for you both."

"We have a son named Matthew," she said. "He's four years old."

"I heard."

"So how did you hear about the murder?"

"I was in Paris," Terese said.

That made Karen react. She blinked and backed up a bit. "That's where you've been this whole time?"

"No."

"Then I'm not sure I understand."

"Rick called me," Terese said.

"When?"

Terese filled her in on Rick's emergency phone call. Karen's face, already something of a death mask, lost even more color.

"Rick told you to come to Paris?" Karen asked.

"Yes."

"What did he want?"

"I was hoping you might know," Terese said.

Karen shook her head. "We haven't been talking much lately. We were going through a pretty bad spell. Rick had become withdrawn. I was kind of hoping it was just because he was onto a big story. You know how he got then?"

Terese nodded. "How long had he been like that?"

"Three, four months now-since his father died."

Terese stiffened. "Sam?"

"I figured you knew."

"No," Terese said.

"In the winter, yeah. He took a bottle of pills."

"Sam committed suicide?"

"He was sick, something terminal. He kept it from us, for the most part. Rick didn't know how bad it had gotten. I guess it got bad at the end so he decided to speed up the inevitable. Rick went into a funk, but then he started in on some big new investigation. He would disappear for weeks at a time. When I asked where he was, he'd snap and then he'd be sweet, but he wouldn't tell me. Or he'd lie about it."

Terese was still trying to get her bearings.

"Sam was such a sweet man," Terese said.

"I really never got to know him too well," Karen said. "We only visited him a couple of times, and he'd gotten too ill to come over here."

Terese swallowed, tried to get herself back on track. "So Sam commits suicide, and Rick buries himself in his work."

"Something like that, yeah."

"And he wouldn't tell you what he was investigating?"

"No."

"Did you ask Mario?"

"He wouldn't say."

I didn't ask who Mario was. I figured Terese would fill me in later.

Terese continued now, back on a roll. "Do you have any idea what it was Rick was working on?"

Karen studied her friend. "How well hidden were you, Terese?"

"Pretty well."

"Maybe that's what he was working on. Trying to find you."

"It wouldn't have taken him months."

"You're sure?"

"And even if that's what he was doing, why would he?"

"I'm trying not to be a jealous wife here," Karen said. "But I would think something like a father killing himself might make you question your life choices."

Terese made a face. "You think…?"

Karen shrugged.

"No chance," Terese said. "And even if you thought Rick was trying to-I don't know-connect or woo me back, why would he tell me it's an emergency?"

Karen thought about that. "Where were you when he reached you?"

"In a remote spot in northwest Angola."

"And when he said it was urgent, you dropped everything and came, right?"

"Yes."

Karen spread her hands as if that answered everything.

"He wasn't lying to get me to Paris, Karen."

Karen did not look convinced. She had looked sad before we entered. Now she looked deflated. Terese glanced back at me. I nodded.

It was time to kick this up a notch.

Terese said, "We need to ask you about the accident."

The words hit Karen like a stun gun. Her eyes shot up, and they looked dazed now, out of focus. I'd wondered about the use of the word "accident," if she would understand what Terese meant. Clearly she did.

"What about it?"

"You were there. At the scene, I mean."

Karen didn't reply.

"Were you?"

"Yes."

Terese seemed a little startled by the answer. "You never told me that."

"Why would I tell you? Strike that-when would I tell you? We never talked about that night. Not ever. You woke up. It wasn't like I was going to say, 'Hi, how are you feeling, I was at the scene.' "

"Tell me what you remember."

"Why? What difference could it make now?"

"Tell me."

"I love you, Terese. I always will."

Something changed. I could see it in her body language. A stiffening of the spine maybe. The best friend was slipping away. An adversary was coming to the surface.

"I love you too."

"I don't think a day goes by that I don't still think about you. But you left. You had your reasons and your pain and I got it. But you left. I made a life with this man. We were having problems, but Rick was my whole world. Do you get that?"

"Of course."

"I loved him. He was the father of my son. Matthew is only four. And someone murdered his father."

Terese just waited.

"So we're in mourning right now. I'm dealing with that. I'm dealing with trying to keep my life together and protecting my child. So I'm sorry. I'm not going to talk about a car accident from ten years ago. Not today."

She stood. It all made sense and yet something in her tone sounded oddly hollow.

"I'm trying to do the same," Terese said.

"What?"

"I'm trying to protect my child."

Karen had the stun-gun look again. "What are you talking about?"

"What happened to Miriam?" Terese asked.

Karen studied Terese's face. Then she turned to me, as if I might offer a glimmer of sanity. I kept my gaze steady.

"Did you see her that night?"

But Karen Tower didn't reply. She opened those pocket doors and vanished into a pack of mourners.