“But Bill has kind eyes,” my mother returned equably. “Were you at Paul Kane’s house when that terrible tragedy on the news happened?”

By which, I assumed, she meant Porter Jones’s murder.

“Yes,” I said. “But you don’t need to worry about me getting involved in some murder mystery.”

She grimaced. “I notice you say I don’t need to worry about it, not that you’re not involved.”

“Adrien!” Emma called impatiently from the front room.

I bussed Lisa’s cheek. “Don’t fuss,” I said and went to join Emma.

* * * * *

Emma read, “‘How to get skin out of a zipper. Do you, (a) Rub peanut butter or margarine on the zipper and gently jiggle it --’”

“Wait, I already know this one,” I said. “Give me something about recognizing bubonic plague. I always forget that one.”

“Ad-ri-en!”

“What?”

She tucked the card away, read the next one. “‘How to soothe a wound in the wilderness: (a) Rub tree sap between your hands, then apply it to the wound as a soothing sealant, (b) Wrap the wound in wet dark green leaves, (c) Wrap a warm rock in a piece of cloth, then press it against the wound.’”

“I’m going to go with the warm tree sap,” I said.

She gave a throaty Ming the Merciless chuckle. “Wrong. ‘Wrap a warm rock in a piece of cloth, then press it --”

Lauren appeared in the doorway. “Guy’s on the phone, Adrien.” She studied her sister. “Emma, you should change that dress. And you’re monopolizing Adrien.”

“Not yet. Monopoly is next,” I told her, going into the kitchen to pick up the phone.

“Where are you?” Guy asked.

The question was clearly rhetorical since he was calling on the Dautens’ land line. Just one of those subconscious little guilt inducers, I guess. “At Lisa’s,” I said. “I told you. It’s the photo thing tonight.”

“You didn’t tell me that was tonight.”

“Yes, I did. Didn’t I?”

“No.” He sounded put out, which was not normal for him. “I’m over at your place but you’re not here. It’s beginning to feel eerily familiar.”

I started to answer, then lowered my voice, aware I had an audience although the adults in the family room appeared to be mesmerized by some reality show on the television. “What are you talking about?”

Guy said, “Paul Kane left a message for you, apologizing for landing you in deep shit with Riordan again. What was that about?”

“It’s not a big deal --”

“Really? Because it sounded like it was a big deal to Paul Kane.”

“Really.” I glanced over at the family room again -- the Dautens looked like a magazine layout for fine living -- their taste in television notwithstanding. “It was -- look, we’ll talk about it when I get home.” I hesitated. “I mean, if you’re going to be there?”

“Of course I’ll be here.” His tone changed again -- flattened. “Or would you prefer that I wasn’t?”

“No, I wouldn’t prefer that.” I caught a look exchanged between Lauren and Natalie and broke off the rest of what I had been about to say. “I’ll be home in an hour or so, all right?”

“I’ll see you then,” he said.

I hung up.

“There’s Tab in the fridge, Adrien,” my mother said brightly.

“Thanks. I’ve got to get going,” I said.

I returned to the living room to break it to Emma. “Just one more game!” she pleaded.

“I can’t, sweetie.”

“Please!”

“Emma,” Lisa said sharply from the doorway. “Adrien’s tired. He’s played with you for over an hour. We didn’t get to visit with him at all.”

Emma directed a mutinous face at Lisa. I ruffled her hair, and said, “Next time for sure, Em.”

She gave a sort of droopy, unappeased nod.

I followed Lisa back to the family room to make my good-byes. There was the usual ring of kisses and then a handshake with Bill.

“We don’t see enough of you, Adrien,” he said, clearly cued by Lisa.

I watched her stage-managing the Dautens, and I thought how perfectly she fit in here. She had successfully managed to build a new life, a new family for herself -- and I was happy for her. But yet tonight I felt distant, detached from it all. Or maybe it was just the knowledge that Guy was sitting at home waiting for me -- seething.

“You know Guy is always welcome here,” Lisa said, walking me to the front door.

“I know.”

She opened the door to the scent of smog and jasmine. Crickets chirped loudly.

“Good night,” I said.

But she said, as though she had been thinking it over all evening, “It’s a pity you can’t make up your mind to settle down with Guy. He’s very good for you. But you’re not quite over Jake, are you?”

I stiffened. “Jake? Where the hell did you get that idea?”

“Watching you,” my mother said with unexpected dryness, and kissed my cheek.

Chapter Ten

Coward that I am, I was half hoping that Guy would have gone to bed by the time I reached home, but he was up, drinking cognac and waiting for me when I unlocked the door to my living quarters.

“So Riordan is back in your life,” he said by way of greeting.

I dropped my keys and wallet on the hall table. “Jesus, Guy. He’s not ‘back in my life,’ whatever that’s supposed to mean. He’s overseeing this investigation. Which you already knew.”

“I sure as hell did. I knew this was going to happen.”

“I have no idea what you’re on about.”

He said wearily, “Oh, for God’s sake, Adrien. Do you think I don’t know about you and Riordan? You think I can’t put two and two together? You obviously had some kind of relationship. It was very obvious from the way you used to clam up every time his name was mentioned -- and you still do it, for your information. Same with him. Every time your name came up, he froze.”

I felt a great resentment that this long-held secret was being pried out of me; but then I realized how unreasonable I was being. Regardless of what Lisa thought, of course I wanted a real relationship with Guy. Of course I did. He was smart and funny and caring and sexy as hell. And I wanted the trust and intimacy of a committed relationship. I wanted the real thing.

And besides all that, this long-held secret really wasn’t much of a secret anymore.

“Yes, I had a thing with him,” I said. “It was sex. That’s all it was. And it was over a long time ago.”

“It was a hell of a lot more than sex,” Guy said. “For Christ’s sake. You couldn’t talk about it for two years. Not to mention the fact he used to park across the street and watch this place.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your Lieutenant Riordan used to park across the street from the bookstore and watch for you.”

I laughed. “There’s no way.” I mean, it was ridiculous, but ridiculing the idea didn’t do a lot to calm Guy down.

“You think I couldn’t recognize that asshole behind a pair of mirror sunglasses? He used to wait out there for you. And now he’s got an excuse to come back into our lives.”

I went to the sideboard and poured myself a cognac. One drink wouldn’t kill me, and I needed a drink or I was going to say a lot of stupid shit I would regret in the morning. Guy watched me slop cognac in the balloon glass, watched me swallow a mouthful.

I said, striving to modulate my tone, “Guy, where is this coming from? Jake didn’t arrange for Porter Jones to be murdered, and he didn’t arrange for me to get dragged into the investigation. It just happened.”

“Nothing just happens,” Guy said. “There are no accidents. There are no coincidences. Everything happens for a reason, for a purpose.”