"You need to stop your self-destructive ways," she told him.

The eye lock was broken.

Gould suddenly made a big deal out of peering into his empty cup. "Did I miss something? Did you read my tea leaves?"

Always turning everything into a joke.

"I try to guide people," Strata Luna said. "I try to keep them from being foolish."

Gould replaced his cup on the saucer. "Thanks for the advice." His voice may have been level, but Elise didn't miss the underlying sarcasm.

He stood. "I have a couple of questions for Enrique."

"He should be in the house unless he's left for the grocery store." Strata Luna waved behind her, clearly glad to be rid of Gould. "Feel free to look around. I have nothing to hide."

"I'll catch up in a minute," Elise told him.

Gould nodded and strode away.

"He could use some lessons in self-discipline," Strata Luna said once he was gone.

"Detective Gould's okay," Elise said, surprised to find that her opinion of him had changed for the better. He was more than holding his own, and sometimes a detective had to ask tough questions to get the right answers. His tactic had been a good one, just misplaced.

"Thanks for agreeing to see us," Elise said, getting to her feet.

Strata Luna reached out and grabbed her arm, fingers squeezing tightly. "Sit down."

Elise remained standing. "Remove your hand." Now it was her turn to confront Strata Luna.

The woman released her hold, apparently realizing her forceful nature hadn't gone over well.

"Have you thought of something about Gary Turello you forgot to tell us?" Elise asked, her voice now remote and businesslike.

"No."

Elise checked her watch. "Then I have to go. You have my card. Call if you think of anything." She began to walk away.

Strata Luna's next words stopped her. "Your mother was one of my girls."

Elise felt a heavy thud in the pit of her stomach. She pulled in a breath and swung around.

"Her name was Loralie," Strata Luna said. "She was beautiful. Exotic. Popular with the men. Oh, I'm sorry. You didn't want to hear that."

Elise waited.

Strata Luna picked up a cookie, turning it this way and that. "Did you know that when I heard you'd been left in a cemetery, I thought about adopting you myself? But I knew they wouldn't give a baby to somebody like me. Not even a baby with devil eyes."

Was she being intentionally cruel? Elise wondered. "Why didn't you come forward when the police were requesting citizen help?"

"What good would that have done, with a prostitute for a mama? Your best chance was to remain a mystery. And Jackson Sweet was dying…"

"Where is she now?" Elise's heart pounded. Her palms were clammy. "Loralie?"

"She has a new life that has nothing to do with who she once was. A life that has nothing to do with you."

Elise would have felt differently toward her birth mother if she'd been given up for adoption in the normal way. What kind of cruel legacy was a cemetery to leave a child? "I want her full name."

"I can't give it to you. Not without asking her permission." Strata Luna took a casual sip of tea that had to be cold. "Would you like me to do that for you?"

Do that for you?

Her word choice was particularly disconcerting. "What's this about? What do you want from me? First you tell me about Jackson Sweet. Now you bring up the name of a woman you claim is my mother. Why exactly did you agree to this visit?"

Strata Luna's haughtiness fell away. "My daughters are dead." She looked up at Elise. There were tears in her eyes. "You're a connection to my past. To a better time. A time before evil came to Savannah."

"Do you know what this is?" Flora touched the ruffled green edge of a red leaf attached to a bushy plant sitting atop a stalk that was at least two feet tall.

David glanced nervously over his shoulder, expecting Elise to appear any second. He'd left the tea party to get away from Strata Luna and her painfully accurate insight. Instead of finding Enrique, he'd run into Flora-who'd apparently been watching for him.

"It's called a lollipop coleus," Flora told him, even though he hadn't asked. Even though he wasn't remotely interested. "They don't normally grow like this."

"I see."

"It took Strata Luna a year to cultivate this particular plant."

"That's weird," David said. "Kind of Tim Burton."

"Tim who?"

"The director," he said, seeing he'd already lost her.

"It's called a topiary."

"Don't talk to Strata Luna about me, okay? No matter how mundane the information might seem."

"I don't have to tell her anything. She just knows."

He let out a snort of disbelief.

"Let's not fight." Flora smiled and moved close, backing him up against the wall. She put her hands on his hips and pressed against him.

He whipped out the photo of Gary Turello and held it in front of her face. "Ever seen this guy?"

"Da-vid." She laughed.

"I'm serious."

"It's Gary Turello. Now put it away." She snatched the photo and tossed it over her shoulder.

"You knew him?"

"We didn't hang out or anything. He was into the punk scene, always getting a new piercing every week."

"Remember anything else about him?"

"He didn't mind the weird shit. If a client was into kinky stuff like beating or bondage or drinking blood, we always sent them Turello."

"Do you remember any of the clients?"

"I never saw them. And unlike you, my naive man, those kind of people always use false names, and the meeting places always change. It might be an abandoned warehouse one night, the basement of an empty Victorian the next."

"Anything else?"

"Should I come by tonight?" When he didn't answer, her hands moved up his body to finally link behind his head, her fingers digging into his hair. She pulled his face close.

At first he put up a fight, but then he bent his head and pressed his lips to hers.

He was kissing Flora when Elise caught up with him.

"Gould?"

He and Flora sprang apart.

Flora gave him a wicked smile. "I'd better go." She scampered off, leaving David alone with Elise.

"Were you just making out with Flora Martinez?" Elise asked, clearly shocked.

David wiped at his mouth and pulled his hand away. "Kissing," he said, distracted by the red lipstick on his fingertips.

"Did she attack you?"

"We… have kind of a relationship."

That announcement was followed by a long span of silence.

"You're dating one of Strata Luna's prostitutes?" Elise finally asked.

"Dating isn't really the right word…"

"What is the right word? Paying? For services rendered?"

"Seeing each other. That would be more accurate."

"I'm not one of those people who has big issues with prostitution unless it involves innocent children," Elise said. "Under those conditions, I'd be looking for a death sentence if such a thing were possible."

"Flora's a good person."

She picked up the photo of Gary Turello and handed it to him. "Moral issues aside, she's too close to the case."

"It just happened." He pocketed the photo.

"Did she approach you after our visit to Black Tupelo?"

He could see she might be able to accept that.

"I knew she liked you," Elise said.

"I called her. Before Black Tupelo."

"What?"

"I called for a prostitute."

"Jeez, Gould! Are you crazy?"

"Possibly." He thought a moment. "Probably."

"You're a cop."

"I was drunk." Out of his mind, that's what he was.

"That should never be an excuse."

She was right. "I know." He looked down. Anywhere but at Elise.

"Isn't this great?" he asked, cupping a ruffled coleus leaf under his fingertips. "It's called a topiary."

"I didn't know you were a master gardener."

"Wouldn't you say it's a little Tim Burtonish?"

"Pre-Sleepy HollowT she asked.

"Goes without saying, doesn't it?"

He wasn't tricking her with the diversion, but she still played along. He liked that about his partner. She knew when to push and when to stop pushing. But then he regarded her more closely and realized she seemed preoccupied with something more than just his relationship with Flora.

"You okay?" he asked.

She pulled in a deep breath. "Just one of those days when I've been given a little too much information."