He was about six feet tall and very fit-looking. He had a TV anchor's mane of silvery hair and a deep tan. A handsome man of sixty-odd.

"My steady I mentioned to you before, Doug Reagan," said Donna proudly. "A very successful founder of a global IT company. He sold it four years ago and now lives the good life. With me."

"Well, that's the American dream," said Michelle with a trace of disgust.

Doug shook their hands. "Really sorry about Sally," he said. "She was a fine woman. A good friend to Donna."

"Thanks," said Michelle.

Doug looked at Donna and took her hand. "We're going to miss her smiling face, aren't we?"

Donna clutched a tissue in her hand and nodded. "But Michelle thinks Sally might have been having an affair."

"What?" Doug looked at them. "That's absurd."

"Are you in a position to know for sure?" asked Sean.

The man opened his mouth and then closed it. "What? I…" He glanced at his steady. "Donna would know better than I would. I knew Sally but not like Donna did. But still, it's a small community here. Someone would have known, wouldn't they?"

Michelle said, "That's what we're trying to find out. But we need folks to be truthful."

"I am telling you the truth," snapped Donna. "Your mother was not having an affair with any man that I know of. And like Doug said, it's a small community."

"My mom bought a golf tournament couples package. My dad doesn't play golf."

"Oh for goodness sakes. She played with Doug," said Donna.

Michelle and Sean looked at Doug, who had a pretzel up to his mouth. "Donna, you asked me to, remember? Because she didn't have anyone to play with."

"That's right, I did."

"Why didn't he play with you?" asked Michelle. "You're a golfer too."

Donna said, "Because even though it was for charity it was a competitive tournament and my handicap was too high to get in. Your mom was an excellent golfer and so is Doug."

"About all I do anymore," he said, smiling. "Hit the little ball in the little cup." He added quickly, "And spend time with Donna."

"My steady," said Donna.

"Sounds like what everyone should aspire to in retirement," said Michelle, while she scowled at Donna.

"Look, if you came here to insult us," Donna began before Sean cut her off by saying, "This is understandably a very tense time for everyone. We appreciate your comments. I think we need to go now."

Before Michelle could protest, Sean took her by the arm and propelled her out the door.

It took them a moment to realize that Doug had followed them out.

"I am truly sorry about your mother. I liked Sally a lot. Everyone did."

"Well, one person didn't," snapped Michelle.

"What, oh, yes, of course." They stood there awkwardly on the front porch with towering support columns done in the Corinthian style on either side of them. For Michelle they felt like elaborate bars on a jazzed-up cage.

"Is there something you wanted to tell us?" asked Sean.

"This is very awkward," said Doug.

"Yes, it is," agreed Michelle. Sean gave her a look.

"I didn't really know your father, but Sally talked to Donna and me about him sometimes."

"Is this where you tell me they weren't happy and my mother was thinking of leaving him?"

"No, no, not at all. I think your mother was, well, moderately happy with your father. I… well…"

"Just say it, Doug."

"I don't think your father was very happy with Sally. They seemed to have grown apart. At least that's how she phrased it."

Michelle's face fell.

Doug studied her. "Did you think that too?"

"It really doesn't matter what I think. It just matters who killed my mom."

"Well, she didn't tell us about anyone bothering her, or stalking her. She led a very normal life. Friends, golf, gardening. There are no psychopaths that I know of running around here."

"That's the thing about psychopaths, Doug, with the really crazy ones, you never see them coming until they've stuck a knife in your heart," she said.

He mumbled a hasty goodbye, and then Doug the steady almost ran back into the house. They heard the lock click into place.

As they were walking to the SUV Michelle said, "Do you think it was just a robbery that went down wrong?"

"It might be."

They climbed in the SUV. "You feel like some food?" she said. "I know a place."

Ten minutes later they were seated in a small restaurant and had ordered.

Sean said, "Okay, the cops worked the garage area and found no trace. The garage overhead door was down and the exit door from the garage onto the side yard was locked. But the killer could have secured it on the way out. It was just a simple button lock."

"So anybody could have gone in, waited for her, killed her, and left that way. The ground was dry, no footprints."

"And there was a privacy fence on the garage side. More concealment."

She said, "ME reported the window of death was between eight and nine. You think someone would have seen something. Or maybe heard Mom crying out when she was attacked?"

Sean looked thoughtful. "But the noise from the pool party would have drowned out anything like that." He added, "I take it they've all been interviewed? The folks at the party?"

"I guess so." She studied him. "Why, what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking if I wanted to kill someone I'd get myself invited to that party, slip out, do the deed, and slip back in."

"I thought of that too, but you would have had to know that my mom was going to be going out, that she'd be in the garage at that time."

"Not necessarily. They might have entered through the garage side door and were planning to go into the house when your mom came out and saved them the trouble."

"That's still risky, Sean. My dad was home. He's a former cop and keeps a gun in the house too. Like Donna said, it's a small community. Folks would know that."

Sean sat back, lost in thought. Their food came and they ate mostly in silence.

"Can I ask you a favor?" she said as they were leaving.

"One can always ask," he said, smiling.

Her next words drove the smile away.

"When I was a little girl, we lived about two hours south of here in a little rural slice of Tennessee. I want to go back there. I need to go back there right now."

CHAPTER 42

THEY PULLED OFF the main road and the SUV's tires bit down hard on the crushed gravel. Sean was driving and had followed Michelle's precise directions.

"When was the last time you were here?" he said.

She was staring straight ahead. A curve of moon provided the only illumination other than the truck's headlights. "When I was a kid."

He looked surprised. "If that's the case, how did you remember how to get here? Did you look it up?"

"No. I… I just knew. I don't know how."

He looked over at her, a frown creasing his face. A curious mixture of emotions swept across her features. He could see heightened expectations. And he could also see fear. The latter was not something he normally associated with the lady.

They pulled down a dark street, revealing a neighborhood that had been brand-new about sixty years ago. The houses were falling in, the front porches far off plumb, and the yards a tangled mass of weeds and diseased trees and bushes.

"Seen better days," she said.

"Looks that way," he replied quietly. "Which one is it?"

She pointed up ahead. "That one. The old farmhouse, only one like it on this street. The rest of the neighborhood was carved from that property."

Sean pulled the SUV to a stop in front. "Doesn't look like anyone lives here now," he said.

She made no move to get out.

"What now?" he finally asked her.

"I don't know."

"You want to get out, go up for a look? We came all this way."