“She sounds like quite the nature girl.”

“Yes, she was.”

“Was?”

“She died when I was six.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So was I. Anything else you want to see?”

Rick looked around, his glance returning to the bird sanctuary.

“I think I’d like to drive that loop on the way back, if you can spare a few more minutes.”

“Sure.”

Cass got into the car and started it up, waiting while Rick fastened his seat belt before making a U-turn in the middle of the road. She drove the half mile, then took a right on the rutted dirt road.

“It would be nice if the county or the state could get around to paving this one of these days,” she said as she stopped in front of the long wooden gate that stretched across the roadway.

“Is it locked?” Rick asked.

“No, I’m sure it’s just closed. Lots of people come out here. You can see by the tire marks there’s been a lot of activity over the past few days since the rain.”

Rick got out of the car and walked to the gate. He lifted it and moved it to one side. Cass pulled the car up and he got back in.

They drove in silence for a few minutes, the road winding slowly, dividing the preserved area in two, the salt flats on one side and the more solid ground of the marsh on the other.

“There’s one of the blinds.” She pointed to a wooden structure that sat surrounded by tall rushes and cattails. “That one looks out over the marsh, so if it’s marsh birds you’re interested in, you might spend some time there.”

She pointed out several more blinds along the way.

“This one was named for my mother,” she told him when she stopped at the top of the loop. “It looks out into the bay. One time during the migrations in the spring-when the birds fly from South America to the Arctic?-she brought me with her to watch the birds gobble up the horseshoe crab eggs on the beach down there. It’s not as dramatic as it is on the Delaware Bay, but it was certainly something to see. At least for a six-year-old. All those birds swooping around, calling and scolding…”

She sat for a silent moment, then drove on, but not before he saw the sign on the side of the road. Dedicated to the memory of Jenny Burke, whose tireless work helped turn a swamp into a sanctuary.

“Seen enough?” she asked.

He nodded. “I think so.”

She accelerated, heading for the exit, then paused to wave on an incoming car, then drove out through the gate.

The driver of the other car slowed to a stop as Cass passed, watching in his rearview mirror from behind dark glasses as she negotiated the bumpy dirt road.

She had no way of knowing he would sit and stare after her until her car had long since disappeared.

“Hey, I thought you weren’t going to work all day.”

Lucy, who was sitting on the top step of the front porch, painting her toenails a deep red, called to Cass even before she had the car door closed behind her.

“I got tied up.”

“I hope he was cute.” Lucy raised one foot and wiggled her toes. “What do you think? Is it too dark? Would it look better if I were tanner?”

“It looks fine,” Cass said without looking. The color of her cousin’s toenails was the last thing on her mind.

“So, was he?”

“Was who what?”

“Was he cute?” Lucy grinned. “You were meeting with that FBI guy this morning, right?”

Cass paused on her way up the stairs.

“Actually, he was, I guess.”

“You guess?” Lucy laughed out loud.

“Yeah, I guess he was okay.”

“What did he look like? Tall, dark, and handsome?”

“That fits.” Cass stepped around Lucy and went into the house.

“Hey, come back here!” Lucy got up awkwardly and followed Cass inside, walking on her heels to avoid smearing the polish. “You can do better than that. And what’s his name? Was he nice?”

“Lucy, this wasn’t a blind date. He’s with the FBI. He’s only here to help us out with these killings.”

Lucy pulled two chairs out from under the kitchen table, sat in one, and propped her feet up on the other.

“But you must have had an impression of him. You spent all day in his company.”

“Okay, my impression is that he’s very smart, very professional. He wasn’t what I expected at all.” Cass rummaged in the refrigerator, which was filled to near-capacity, thanks to Lucy’s trip to the local market. She brought out a block of cheddar cheese and set it on the counter while she looked for a knife.

“I bought a cheese slicer,” Lucy told her. “It’s in the drawer with the flatware.”

“This?” Cass held up the slicer and Lucy nodded.

“There are crackers in the cupboard next to the cereal, but don’t eat too much. I bought crabs for dinner.” Lucy shook the bottle of nail polish, then opened it and began to paint the fingernails on her left hand to match her toes. “It was for myself because I didn’t hear from the kids this morning. They’re supposed to call on Saturdays, right? I figured they probably called home and talked to their dad and he probably didn’t remind them to call me on my cell phone, so I went food shopping and stopped at the Crab Shack, thinking we could pig out later. Well, there I was, in line, waiting for our crabs to be cooked to order, and doesn’t my cell phone ring?”

Lucy paused to beam.

“And there were my babies, both of them. They did call home, and they had forgotten my number, so David gave it to them and told them to charge the call to the house phone-I should thank him, I guess-so I got to talk to both of the boys. I almost cried, I was so happy to hear from them.”

“How are they doing?”

“Having the time of their lives, and no injuries so far.” She knocked on the wooden cabinet. “They want to stay for an extra session. You’d think two weeks of football, two weeks of lacrosse would be enough, but nooooo. They want two weeks of ice hockey as well.”

“What did you tell them?”

“I told them to take it up with their father. I guess I’d rather have them at camp having fun than home dodging bullets between David and me.” Lucy looked as if she was about to cry. “The longer they stay at camp, the longer I can put distance between me and David. The longer I have to think about what I want to do, where I want to go…”

She stared out the window for a time.

“Anyway, it was so good to hear their voices. I miss them every day. They’ve never been away from me for more than a long weekend.”

“They’re eleven this year?”

Lucy nodded.

“I guess that’s old enough.”

“Old enough for what?”

“Old enough to go a few weeks without seeing their momma.”

“Oh, you.” Lucy laughed. “I’ll see them next weekend. I can’t wait. I know it’s not even been a week, but I miss them. Parents can go for visits after the second week, so I’ll drive up on Saturday for a while. You’re welcome to come with me if you like.”

“We’ll see. As much as I’d like to see Kyle and Kevin again, I hate to commit to anything. With the investigation and all.”

“I understand.” Lucy bit the inside of her lip. “I guess I need to find out when David is going to be there. So I can go at a different time.”

“The boys won’t think that’s odd? That you don’t go together?”

“I’ll just tell them that I’ve come up from the beach, which would be the absolute truth.” She waved a hand at Cass. “Now, go on. You were talking about how… what’s his name? The FBI guy?”

“Rick Cisco.”

“Cisco? Like the Cisco Kid?”

“I can’t imagine anyone calling him that and living to tell about it,” Cass mused, “but yes, like the Cisco Kid.”

“So you were telling me how he wasn’t what you’d expected.”

“I’ve never worked directly with the FBI before, but from everything I’ve heard, they’re a pain in the ass to deal with. Like, once they come into an investigation, they take over. They like to be in charge. Their way or the highway. And that once the case has been solved, they take the credit. If the case goes bad, they put the blame on the locals.”