He rose and went inside. The table still held the mess of papers, photographs and files he had accumulated from Kitty’s case. He picked up the blurry black-and-white class picture of Kitty.

Give her some peace, Ahnert had said. But it wasn’t up to him anymore.

Setting the beer bottle down, he went to the bedroom and came back with a cardboard box. He began to pack everything up, taking down the photos and note cards he had taped to the walls and kitchen cabinets. He slipped the picture of Kitty in a folder and put it away.

When he got to the old copy of Gulfshore Life magazine, he paused. He opened it to the paper-clipped page, the one with the society picture of Spencer and Candace Duvall.

How different Duvall looked to him in light of what he now knew about the man. Duvall’s expression no longer looked merely dour; now it looked cold and calculated.

What had happened? Why had he done it? Who was Spencer Duvall? The sand-in-the-shoes crusader revered by Ellie Silvestri-or a status-seeking shyster who bargained away Jack Cade’s life?

Louis looked at the society picture again. This time he focused on Candace Duvall. Her expression looked different now too-almost predatory.

There were eight other people in the photograph. There was a man standing next to Duvall, a man whose face looked vaguely familiar. Louis read the names in the caption.

Shit. . why hadn’t he noticed this before? He stared at the man’s face, and at the pained expression on Spencer Duvall’s face. He flipped over to the magazine’s cover to check the date: December, 1973. Maybe it was just a coincidence that the two of them were in the same picture. But his gut was telling him it wasn’t.

There was only one way to find out. He had to talk to Candace again. And Ellie Silvestri. If anyone knew if there was a connection between Spencer and this man, it was the two women in his life.

The maid opened the door and frowned at him.

“Tell Mrs. Duvall I want to see her, please,” Louis said before she had a chance to say anything.

The maid shut the door. A few minutes later, it opened and she nodded Louis into the cold, white foyer. “She’s out at the pool,” the maid said, pointing at the far glass doors.

Louis tucked the magazine under his arm and went out to the patio. Candace was lying in the shade. Hayley was sitting in a chair close by, her feet propped on the end of Candace’s chaise. Both women wore bathing suits and had wet hair, like they had just gotten out of the pool. Hayley had a big tan towel wrapped sarong-like around her. They both looked up as he came toward them.

Candace took off her tortoise-frame sunglasses. “Hayley says I should be nice to you.”

Louis glanced at the other woman, who gave him a small smile, then went back to flipping through her Vogue.

“I’d like to talk to you about your husband,” Louis said.

“We’ve already covered that.”

Louis pulled over one of the chairs. Candace looked at him like he was a reptile that had slithered into her yard, then slipped her sunglasses back on.

“I’d like to know about the early years,” Louis said.

“What do you mean?”

“You and your husband, what it was like. You met in college?”

Candace glanced at Hayley, then looked out over the glittering water of San Carlos Bay. “At a frat party,” she said with a bored sigh.

“I understand you were broke in the beginning.”

“Where’d you get that idea?”

“Spencer’s secretary, Ellie.”

“That old bag,” she said flatly. “Yeah, we were broke. I taught elementary school to put Spence through law school. Third grade. I hated every minute of it.”

“I take it things got easier after Spencer set up his practice?” Louis asked.

Candace gave a short laugh. “Oh yeah. Ten-thousand dollars in law school loans, start up costs for the practice, rent on that dump of an office downtown. A cozy little duplex overlooking the tracks. Yeah, it was peachy keen.”

“Not exactly what you dream about when they’re putting the Miss Quincy Cucumber Queen crown on your head, huh?” Hayley chuckled.

Candace shot her a look. Hayley went back to her magazine.

“When did things get better for you?” Louis asked.

Candace was twirling a strand of her hair, looking out over the bay again. “Years,” she said quietly.

Louis held out the Gulfshore Life magazine. “Did any of these people have anything to do with it getting better for you?”

Candace lowered her sunglasses and looked at the society picture. Then she raised them and looked back out at the water. “They all did. We scratched each other’s backs.”

Louis glanced at Hayley. She had put down the Vogue and her green eyes were fixed on Candace.

“You were the one who scratched, Candy,” Hayley said. “Tell him what you did for that man.”

“Yeah,” Louis said. “Tell me, Candy.”

Candace was quiet.

“Tell him,” Hayley prodded. “Tell him for the same reason you told me, hon. Deep down, you like this rags-to-riches shit. You’re proud of it.”

Candace looked at her, then smiled. “Maybe.”

“You’re proud of your achievement,” Hayley said, giving the last word a bite.

“Damn right I am,” Candace said. “Spencer never would have gotten anywhere without me.”

Louis’s eyes went between the two women, trying to understand the dynamic. It was obvious Hayley held some power here, maybe the threat of outing Candace to her society friends. Status-that was Candace’s button and Hayley knew it.

Suddenly, he understood that morose look on Duvall’s face in the society picture.

“You pushed him,” Louis said.

Candace shrugged. “Someone had to. Spence would have been happy wearing his Sears suits, defending those wetbacks in Immokalee for the rest of his life.”

Louis leaned forward on his elbows, letting his eyes drop to the patio stones. He pulled in a slow breath before he went on.

“Well, they say behind every successful man there’s a good woman,” he said.

Candace sat forward. “You got that right. I picked out his clothes, showed him what to eat and what to drink. He wouldn’t leave that dump office downtown, so I made him remodel it.” She waved a hand at the big white house. “I picked out every faucet and piece of tile in this house. Do you think he cared?”

She slumped back in the chaise. “That man was socially backward. I dragged him to parties, taught him how to schmooze. About the only thing I didn’t do was manicure his damn toenails.”

Hayley laughed.

Louis drew in another slow breath. “So you got him into the right circles.”

“Yes. It wasn’t easy.”

Louis hesitated. He wasn’t sure where to go with this now. “What about his work, his clients?” he asked. “Did he talk to you about it?”

“He did in the beginning,” Candace said. “That’s why I knew I had to step in and get him on a better track. I told him he had to upgrade his clients, I told him to hire Lyle. Once the money started coming in, I didn’t really care. I had done my work, so I retired.”

She started twirling her hair again. “The law bores me to tears,” she said. “Spence bored me to tears.”

Louis was quiet for a moment. There was one last question and Candace was probably the only one now who might tell him the answer.

“I know your husband was gay,” Louis said. “Was Brian Brenner his lover?”

Candace looked at him, then laughed. “Brian? God no. Brian may not be a charmer like his brother, but he is definitely not gay.”

“Do you know who your husband was seeing?” Louis asked.

Candace shook her head slowly. “No one. I mean, there were guys in the beginning, but Spence just kind of. . lost interest. He was depressed and I told him to get help. When he went on the Trazodone, it killed what was left of his sex drive.”

Candace gave a soft sigh. “Spence wasn’t a bad man. I mean, I liked him and we kind of took care of each other in the beginning. That was part of the deal. But then, it was like Spence just kind of. . I don’t know, dried up.”