“You’d think she’d understand now that she’s older.”

“You never really explained it to us. I guess I don’t understand myself.” Her words came out sounding more accusatory than she’d intended.

Papi shrugged. “Your mother and I, we fought like cats and dogs. You saw that. It was bad for us, bad for you. With the robbery, getting shot and all, I almost died. I realized I only had one life to live, and I wanted to spend it with Gladys. That simple.”

“What about me and Linda?”

“Your mother’s a tough customer. I knew she’d take care of you, that you’d be fine.”

But we weren’t, Melanie thought. I wasn’t.

Papi must’ve sensed she wasn’t buying it. “Look,” he said, “it’s different when you face death. Things get very clear. You can’t bother with following the conventions.”

Melanie had faced death herself a couple of times. With a gun in her hand, staring down a vicious killer on the Jed Benson murder case. And again just last night, with six thousand pounds of steel hurtling toward her. Funny, those experiences hadn’t made her want to abandon Maya. Quite the opposite, in fact. But then Maya was more to her than a “convention” that she felt bound to observe.

“Whatever, Papi. I suppose it’s ancient history now,” Melanie said hollowly.

“That’s right. And I’m very lucky, because God gave me a second chance with my boys. I’m a very good father to them. I feel like they’re my real kids, you know?”

What was I? she thought. Practice? A bad dream? But there was no point in asking.

“Listen,” she said, standing up, “I’d better be going.”

“I should get back to what I was doing, too. Gladys has me out in the hot sun replacing the patio tile. The iguanas get in the yard and shit all over it. Takes the finish right off. My wife is a slave driver, but she keeps things nice, you know?” He smiled indulgently.

Melanie walked over to the door, and he followed her. She thought about asking for Maya’s photograph back but then decided it wasn’t worth it. He’d probably throw it away, but who cared, really? It was only a picture.

“Well, it was very nice of you to stop by,” he said, leaning across her and pushing the door open. “You’re looking very beautiful, very grown-up.”

“Thank you.” She studied his face for a final moment, wondering if she’d see him again in this life. She didn’t think she’d try. She was virtually certain he wouldn’t. He was so obviously relieved that the visit was ending quickly, without an upsetting emotional scene.

“I mean that. I said the same thing at your wedding. You turned out nice,” he said.

“Thanks, Papi. You take care.” She pecked him on the cheek and walked out the door, putting on her sunglasses, staring straight ahead.

It was around three o’clock now, and the afternoon had turned muggy and airless. Melanie started walking with no thought of where she was going, the heat of the sidewalk coming up through the thin plastic bottoms of her flip-flops. How blind could she be? Of all the answers Melanie had ever imagined to the urgent question of her father’s abandonment, she’d missed the most obvious one: He didn’t really care about her. It wasn’t that he longed to call but had been prevented from doing so by Gladys. It wasn’t that he blamed Melanie wrongly for some slight or some fault that she could correct or put right. There was no mystery, no magic solution. He just wasn’t that interested in her. She’d spent her life fixated on her father, preoccupied with his betrayal, experiencing her own relationships through the prism of his absence. But he didn’t spend his time thinking about her. And there wasn’t anything she could do about that either, except get over it and move on.

A distant rumble of thunder finally roused Melanie from her chaotic thoughts. Skies were clear where she stood but black and threatening to the west. If she got caught in a terrible downpour, it would only be a fitting conclusion to her visit. Yet why put herself through that? Nobody else seemed to be suffering. Why should she?

She started paying attention to the street signs, annoyed at herself for leaving her map behind in the hotel. The neighborhood was residential, quiet. No taxis on the streets, not many cars, and certainly no people walking in this withering heat. A gray sedan started its engine and pulled out behind her, cruising along slowly. Melanie glanced back over her shoulder, waiting for it to pass her by. But it didn’t. The glare on the windshield from this angle prevented her from seeing inside. She felt the tingle of déjà vu, and not in a good way either. Wasn’t this sort of like last night? Okay, the weather and the setting couldn’t be more different, but wasn’t this just like the Escalade pulling out of that parking space? Could they possibly try to run her down twice in less than twenty-four hours? That would show a distinct lack of creativity in the MO department. But what else could it be, the way this car was acting? Her heart started beating rapidly.

Melanie walked faster. The car kept pace with her. She looked all around. Nobody to help her. She stopped dead, panting with fear. The car pulled up beside her. She turned to run, just as somebody shoved open the passenger-side door.

WHAT THE HELL are you doing? Get in. It’s gonna rain,” Dan said.

Melanie heaved a tremendous sigh and practically collapsed into the waiting passenger seat. “Jesus. You scared me.”

“You should be scared. Fear is healthy for someone as reckless as you.”

The inside of the car smelled musty, as if the windows had been left open during a rainstorm, but the air-conditioning still came as a relief. And Dan, in jeans and faded T-shirt that clung to his muscular body just so, one powerful forearm draped over the steering wheel, looked sexy as hell.

“Where’d you get this jalopy?” she asked, trying to sound nonchalant, like it didn’t affect her to be around him.

“Bridget requisitioned it from the local DEA. Albano must have major juice, because they dropped this one off for me and she got one, too.”

“I hope hers is better.”

“Stop complaining, princess, or you can walk back to the hotel.”

“You’re bluffing. You wouldn’t do that.”

He glanced over at her. “Maybe not. You look pretty good in those shades.” He looked out at the road, then did a double take, looking back at her again. “What’s that, a bathing suit you’re wearing under that thing?”

“Yeah.” She’d been in such a rush that she’d engineered the whole profound encounter with her father-one she’d been imagining for years-while dressed for the beach! She slouched down against the mushy fabric seat, too drained to explain herself. They drove in silence for a few minutes.

Eventually she said, “Aren’t you going to ask what I was doing?”

“I already know. Had headquarters run the address while you were inside. Your father?”

“Yes.” Melanie had explained to Dan early on about her parents’ divorce and her father’s abandonment.

“How was it seeing him again?” he asked.

She started to speak, but the lump gathering in her throat stopped her.

“Aw, I’m sorry,” Dan said. He reached out and patted her head like she was a dog. It was a silly gesture, one he probably resorted to out of fear that anything more would be unwelcome, but it made her feel infinitely better. She realized that, in a strange way, ever since she’d known Dan, she felt less alone. Whether they were together or not.

“You don’t talk much about yourself. What are your parents like?” she asked, wanting to feel closer to him, to heal their breach for real.

He shrugged, studying the road. “They stuck around. I’ll say that for ’em.”

“That’s not exactly a ringing endorsement.”