Louis shook his head.

“I thought you liked Chief Horton. I heard he likes you too.”

Louis was thinking about Ellie Silvestri. He had gone to her office yesterday, to tell her about Spencer Duvall. He had tried to make Duvall sound misguided, but wasn’t sure she had bought it. She had taken him back into Duvall’s office and shown him one of the pictures on the wall. He had noticed it the first time; it was the picture of the Victorian beachfront cottage among the photographs of old Fort Myers. Ellie told him it was a real place, in a town up in the panhandle called Seaside. It was a new development, a fabrication of an idyllic twenties village, complete with a bandshell in the town circle and rockers on the pastel porches. The motto of the place was “Remembering how nice the world can be.” Duvall had planned to divorce Candace, leave her everything and move to Seaside, Ellie told him. He wanted to open a small law practice and start over.

But Spencer couldn’t go back, not after what he had done. No more than he himself could.

“Louis?”

He looked at Susan. “I think I’ll wait,” he said.

“But why? I thought you hated this PI stuff.”

Louis shrugged. “You get used to it.”

They fell quiet, watching Benjamin chase the gulls.

“Do you think they’ll get a conviction on Scott?”

“If they don’t,” Louis said, “it was all for nothing.”

She was looking at him, hearing the hollow sound in his voice. “The system worked this time, Louis.”

He didn’t comment. She sighed and picked up a shell. He saw her looking at the mound in the sand.

“Louis, what did you bury?” she asked.

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the ground. He opened Ronnie’s envelope, pulled out one bill and held it out to her.

She looked at it. “What?”

“Just take it.”

She accepted it. “Why?”

“I want to hire you as my attorney.”

“What for?”

“I don’t know yet. It’s a retainer.”

She eyed him, then looked down at the bill.

“Am I now your client?” he asked.

“I don’t know how much a hundred bucks will get you, but yes, you’re my client.”

Louis nodded.

She looked back at the sand. “Now are you going to tell me what you buried?”

“I didn’t bury anything.”

“But you told me you buried something.”

He looked at her. “And what I told you is now privileged.”

She stared at him, then turned away. “Technically, you told me before you hired me, but I can get around that.”

“I thought you could.”

“Do I want to know what you buried?”

He shook his head.

Benjamin came running up, his shorts and sneakers wet.

“Ma, this is so cool,” he said. “There’s a really cool dead fish out there, and some seaweed. And look what I caught!” He held out a shell. There was a tiny crab in it. “Can I take him home?”

“No, Ben.”

“Aw, why not? Please, Ma, please?”

“No, now go put it back.”

He plopped down on the sand at her feet. “But you said I could maybe get a fish tank. I could keep the crab in it. Can I, Ma?”

“We need to buy a tank first. You can come back and get another one,” Susan said.

Louis glanced at her. Come back?

She saw his expression and quickly looked away. She slipped the hundred dollar bill in her pocket and rose.

“So, show me this really cool dead fish,” she said.

Ben scrambled to his feet and took Susan’s hand. He looked back at Louis.

“You coming?” Ben asked.

Louis hesitated, then got to his feet, dusting the sand off his hands. “I guess I am,” he said.

Chapter Forty-Nine

It took him a while to find his way back. He was lost until he spotted the towering tree and he used it as a landmark, walking through the headstones until he found Kitty’s grave.

There was a fresh mound of dirt. They had already put her back in the ground. The dirt was covered with lavender flowers.

Louis looked up. The canopy of the tree was bare. Not one flower was left on the branches.

He moved closer. For a moment, he just stood there, staring at the dirt. He looked up at the bare tree, then down at the grave.

“I had to do it the way I did,” he said.

The sound of his own voice was startling in the silence. He hadn’t meant to speak. And for a moment he was tempted to look around to see who had heard. But he keep his eyes on the grave.

“I know now,” he said.

Knew what? How everything could change in one split second? How one decision could alter the course of a life? How precious it all was?

One split second, one decision, and the road of his life had taken an unexpected turn. He would never wear a uniform again; how could he now? He had done what he had to do. And because of it, Eric’s road had taken its own turn. But that wasn’t why he had done it.

He heard a sound and turned. Two people were coming over the rise, an old man and a younger woman. He was surprised to see Joyce Novick and Willard Jagger walking toward him.

Joyce smiled when she saw him. Willard did too, but Louis wasn’t sure it was from recognition.

“How you doing?” Joyce asked.

“Good,” Louis answered.

Joyce had her arm linked through Willard’s. “This is it, Mr. Jagger,” she said, nodding toward the mound.

Willard looked down and frowned slightly. “There’s no headstone,” he said.

Joyce looked at Louis. “I think someone just forgot to put it here, Mr. Jagger. But we can get one, if you want,” she said.

Willard was looking at the grave. Louis paused, then reached in his pocket.

“Mr. Jagger?”

Williard looked up at him. Louis held out the picture of Kitty. “I think you should have this back,” he said.

Willard stared at it for moment, then took it.

“That’s my girl,” he said.

Then his eyes went blank and he turned to Joyce, holding out the picture. She took it and slipped it in his shirt pocket. Willard’s eyes went back to the lavender blanket of flowers. Then his eyes drifted up to the tree’s canopy.

“Jacaranda tree,” he said, pointing. “Two weeks every year. That’s all they bloom.”

Louis followed Willard’s finger, looking up at the bare branches. They were quiet for a moment. Then Willard turned to Joyce.

“I’m ready to go home now,” he said.

She looked at Louis and he nodded, telling her there would be another time for talk. She led Willard back over the rise.

Louis’s eyes were drawn back to the grave. It was so quiet. Not a sound, not a bird, not a human voice, just his own heart beating slowly, steadily in his chest. For a second, it terrified him, this silence. Then he knew it was all right. She was quiet now, and it was all right.

It was time to go. His eyes went from the mound of lavender flowers up to the bare branches. Then he turned and walked back over the rise. He would come back when the flowers did.