Then let out the breath she’d been holding. It was just the paperboy, who looked like he was closer to college-aged. He was filling out a form on a clipboard, the small flashlight clenched between his teeth giving his face an unearthly glow. Just then he looked up and saw her. Startled, he let the flashlight fall from his teeth to the porch with a clatter. Eyes wide, he stared, and Alex realized he could see the knife in her hand.

Lowering the knife, she cranked the window open a crack. “You scared me.”

His swallow was audible in the predawn stillness. “You scared me worse, ma’am.”

Her lips quirked and tentatively he smiled back. “I didn’t order the paper,” she said.

“I know, but Miz Delia said she’d rented the bungalow. The Review gives a free week to folks new to the neighborhood.”

She lifted her brows. “You get many new people to the neighborhood?”

He grinned shyly. “No, ma’am.” He handed her the paper and the form he’d been filling out. She had to crank the window a little wider to take it from him.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Don’t forget your flashlight.”

He picked up the light. “Welcome to Dutton, Miss Fallon. Have a nice day.”

She cranked the window closed as he got back into his van and drove to the next house on his route. Her pulse nearing normal, she opened the paper to the front page.

And her pulse started to race again. “Janet Bowie,” she murmured. Alex had only a vague recollection of Congressman Bowie, but his wife she remembered clearly. Rose Bowie and her negative, very public assessment of Alex’s mama’s character had been the reason they’d stopped going to church on Sundays. Most of the women in Dutton had shunned Kathy Tremaine after she’d moved in with Craig Crighton.

Alex rubbed at the sudden pain in her temples and put Craig from her mind. The memory of her mother wasn’t so easily dismissed. There were the good years, when her father had been alive and her mother had been happy. Then the hard years, when it had just been the three of them, Mama, Alicia, and me. Money was tight and her mama had worried all the time, but there had still been some happiness in her eyes. But after they’d moved in with Craig, her happiness had been extinguished.

The last memories she had of her mother weren’t good ones. Her mother had lived with Craig to give them a place to live and food to eat. And women like Rose Bowie had shunned her for it and made her cry. That was hard to forgive. For years Alex had hated all the whispering biddies. Now, as she stared down at the headline, she had to wonder who’d hated Janet Bowie enough to kill her that way.

And why her killer had resurrected Alicia’s ghost after all these years.

Dutton, Tuesday, January 30, 5:35 a.m.

Mack got back into his van and rolled up to the next house. Old Violet Drummond came tottering out of her house to get her paper as she did every day. The first time she’d done it, he’d nearly freaked, but she hadn’t recognized him. He’d changed in the years since he’d left Dutton, in many ways. Old Violet was not a threat, but a great source of information, which she readily provided. And she was friends with Wanda in the sheriff’s office, so her information was usually pretty good.

He handed her her paper through his window. “Mornin’, Miz Drummond.”

She nodded briskly. “Mornin’, Jack.”

Mack looked over his shoulder at the bungalow. “Got yourself a new neighbor.”

Violet’s old eyes narrowed. “That Tremaine girl is back.”

“I don’t know her,” he lied.

“Girl’s no good. She shows up in town and this starts happenin’ all over again.” Violet thumped the front page on which Jim Woolf had described Janet Bowie’s demise in great detail. “Doesn’t even have the decency to behave properly.”

His brows lifted. “What’s she done?” His surveillance told him that Alex Fallon was single-mindedly determined to find her stepsister, but she’d done nothing improper.

“Kissin’ that Daniel Vartanian. Right on the front porch, for all the world to see!”

“That’s disgraceful.” That’s fascinating. “Some people have no class.”

Violet huffed. “No, they don’t. Well, I won’t keep you, Jack.”

Mack smiled. “Always a pleasure, Miz Drummond. See you tomorrow.”

Atlanta , Tuesday, January 30, 8:00 a.m.

Daniel joined Chase and Ed at the team table, fighting a yawn. “Our ID’s confirmed. Felicity said Janet’s dental records match. It’s amazing how fast things get done for a congressman,” he added dryly. “The dentist met me here with the x-rays at five a.m.”

“Good work,” Chase said. “What about the boyfriend? The jazz singer?”

“Lamar has an alibi, confirmed by ten witnesses and the jazz club’s security tapes.”

“He was performing when Janet was killed?” Ed asked.

“In front of a full house. The boyfriend’s really torn up. He sat and sobbed when I told him she was dead. Said he’d heard about the murder but had no idea it was Janet.”

Ed frowned. “What did he think when she didn’t show up for their weekend date?”

“He got a voicemail from her. He said she told him her father had some state function and he expected her to be there. Call came in Thursday at eight p.m.”

“So she was still alive at eight p.m. and probably dead around midnight,” Chase said. “She spent the day at Fun-N-Sun and left when?”

“I don’t know yet. Lamar said she’d taken a group of kids from Lee Middle School.”

“She was a teacher?” Chase asked.

“No, a volunteer. Seems Janet was ordered to do community service after a little diva-brawl with another cellist in the orchestra last year.”

Chase snorted a surprised laugh. “Cellists brawling? What, did they cross bows?”

Daniel rolled his eyes at the lame joke. “I haven’t had enough sleep for that to be funny. The other cellist accused Janet of damaging her cello so that Janet could get the first chair. The two women had an out-and-out catfight, pulling hair and scratching each other. The other cellist charged Janet with assault and property damage. Apparently they caught Janet on tape messing with the cello, so she pleaded out. Her brother Michael said the volunteer work had made an impact. This group of kids was important to her.”

“They went to an amusement park on a school day?” Ed asked skeptically.

“Lamar said it was her reward to kids with straight As and the principal approved it.”

“It’s a four-hour drive from the amusement park back to Atlanta,” Chase said. “If she called Lamar at eight under duress, her killer had her by then. We need to find out what time she and the kids left the park. We could have a nice, tight window of opportunity.”

“I called the school, but nobody was there yet. I’ll head out there when we’re done.”

“Hopefully you’ll get more than we got at her apartment,” Ed said glumly. “We took prints, checked her voicemail and computer. So far, nothing pops.”

“We’re assuming she called Lamar under duress,” Chase said. “What if she was two-timing him? What if she was meeting some other guy for the weekend?”

“I’ve got a request for her LUDs,” Daniel said. “I’ll see if she called anyone else. But speaking of LUDs, we got the warrant for Jim Woolf’s. I should have them soon.”

“Woolf was there last night, at the Bowies ’ house,” Ed mused. “How did he know?”

“He said he followed the line of cars up the hill,” Daniel said, and Ed sat up straighter.

“Speaking of cars, Janet Bowie drives a BMW Z-4 and it’s not in the parking garage under her apartment or at the Bowies ’ house in Dutton.”

“She didn’t get those kids down to Fun-N-Sun in a Z,” Chase said. “It’s a two-seater.”

“I’ll ask the principal. Maybe a parent drove. None of the kids would be old enough.”

“Chase?” Leigh opened the door. “You’ve got a call from Sheriff Thomas in Volusia.”

“Tell him I’ll call him back.”