She sucked in a breath, paused, then swallowed. Sucked in another breath. Swallowed again.

"Out with it," I cried.

"Are you gay?"

"Mother!" My mouth dropped open and I sat for a long while in stunned disbelief. Only the thought that someone could take a picture of me looking like that snapped me out of it. "Why would you ask me something like that?" First Royce and now my mom. What kind of come-and-get-me-ladies vibe was I putting out there?

"I'm just curious, sweetie. Since your breakup with Richard the Bastard, you've become a dating recluse. Jonathan tells me this is a definite sign that you hate men."

Little Johnnie was a regular pain in my ass. I think he lived for analyzing every moment of my existence.

"Jonathan also says Richard the Bastard was a smoke screen," my mom finished.

"A smoke screen?" I asked, not sure I wanted to hear the reasoning behind this little gem.

"You know." She motioned with her hands. "A device used to fool those around you into believing what you want them to believe, and not what is the actual truth." That was a direct quote from Jonathan, I knew. I could almost hear his "helpful" voice while my mother spoke, as if she were channeling him.

Sweet Jesus, this was too much.

"I'm not into women, Mom. I really do like men."

Doubtful, she gazed down at the table. "If you're sure-"

"I'm sure. I want to have sex with men." God, I couldn't believe we were having this conversation.

"All right," she said on a sigh, "I believe you."

Her coffee was delivered, and she stared down at the cup for a long while. Another sigh slipped from her lips a split second before her face crumbled. "I think Jonathan is cheating on me."

The blurted words hit me like a disco globe falling from a domed ceiling. I'd expected this type of announcement in the first several years of their marriage. Not now. Fury blazed a hungry path through every part of me, even hotter and darker than when I'd first found out about Richard. For my mom's sake, I didn't allow it to emerge. Not yet. She needed comfort right now, not rage. "I'm sorry, Mom. I'm so, so sorry."

"I don't know what to do." Tears gleamed in her eyes, making the hazel irises look like swirling pools of brown and silver.

"Why do you think he's seeing someone else?"

"It all started when he bought me that damn lamp for my birthday. What woman wants a practical household item as her present?"

"No woman I know."

"He should have known better. But I think I nagged him about it too much because after that, he started coming home late. And he's been making secret phone calls. I know because he slithers out of bed when he thinks I'm asleep and goes into another room with his cell phone. Some evenings he even stinks of some musky bouquet-type perfume. You know I'd never wear anything like that. I wear lilies. Lilies!"

I somehow managed to retain a neutral expression. Inside, however, the fury bubbled and churned with greater force. I was a seething cauldron, ready to erupt. The late nights, the secret phone calls, the different perfumes…those had been the early signs with Richard.

"Maybe I drove him to it, it's just-it's just-" She wiped at her tears with a shaky hand. "I never thought he'd be like your father."

At first, I'd allowed myself to make excuses. Working late. Business emergency. A freak perfumed breeze that stuck to his clothes. When the excuses no longer worked, I'd blamed myself. I wouldn't let my mom do the same. Not this time, anyway. If he hadn't died of a heart attack, my mom would still be with my real dad.

Reaching out, I covered her hand with mine. "There's not a reason good enough for a man to cheat. Ever. It's his fault, his lack of integrity. Not yours."

"What should I do?" she whispered brokenly. "I can't go through this again."

"You need to hire a private investigator ASAP and catch him in the act."

"I don't know." She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, refusing to meet my gaze. "What if I'm wrong?"

"There's only one way to find out."

"I don't know," she repeated.

"Will you have any respect for yourself if you do nothing? You did nothing with Daddy. You saw what Richard's affairs did to me. Don't let this beat you down. Be strong and take action."

"I-I just… "

I knew what that wavering meant, so I pounced on it before she could completely absolve the man. "If you don't want to hire a private investigator, don't. But I'm going to follow him."

She frowned and finally faced me. The tears were gone, at least. "Really, Naomi. Be serious."

"I'm dead serious." I was going to nail the bastard in more ways than one. Lie to my mom, would he? Cheat on my mom, would he? He'd picked the wrong girls to screw with. Detective Delacroix. That was me.

My mom pressed her lips together and reached out with her free hand, skimming her fingertips over my jaw. Tenderness shone from her features. "I've always thought of myself as the strong one for what I survived, but it's you. You're the one with true strength. Look at you, ready to defend my honor."

I glanced down at the table surface, beading with rings of moisture from our cups. Her praise caused my chest to constrict. She was wrong, but her words pleased me nonetheless. "I'm trying," I said.

"No; not trying. You are strong."

If she kept it up, I was going to bawl like a baby. I clasped her hand in mine and gave a gentle squeeze.

"Jonathan expects you at the house tonight. Seven-thirty. He wants to counsel you on your relationship choices. Can you come?"

How ironic. Relationship counseling from a cheater. I didn't think I was ready to see the rotten creep without scratching the skin from his bones, but I'd do it. I'd use the opportunity to sneak around the house like a goddamn Scooby-Doo disciple and find clues.

"I'll be there," I said with a firm nod.

"I love you, sweetie." She kissed my cheek, stood and glided away.

I forced Mel and Kera to go with me to Jonathans "relationship therapy" session that night. After he was finished dispensing his advice, they were going to distract him while I searched the house. Thankfully, my fury had lessened and I felt in control enough not to attack the cheating bastard with a whip and blowtorch. I loved the man, but I still planned to castrate him.

Maybe I wouldn't have been so upset if not for the picture of Royce and Big-Boobed Gwen. Nah. I'd still be pissed. Cheating was cheating.

Mom greeted us at the door. She brightened when she spotted her nieces. "Mel, Kera! I'm so glad you came. It's been too long since I last saw you. How're you doing, girls?"

"Fine, Aunt Gloria. Just fine," they answered simultaneously, and hugged her.

"Come in, come in," my mom said. I followed behind Mel and Kera, but when I tried to move past my mom, she grabbed my arm and tugged me aside. "You look ready for war." She spoke behind her hand and didn't meet my eyes. "What are you planning?"

"It's better if you don't know." I kissed her cheek, savoring the fragrance of lilies, and sailed past her. "Where's Dr. Johnnie?"

"You know he hates when you call him that." Mom waved toward the back of the house. "He's waiting for you in the den."

We followed the trail of floral-scented candles. The den was spacious, well-lit and fairly bursting with elegant bird figurines of every color and breed. Jonathan collected them. If I were analyzing him, I'd say he collected them because he's a cheating bastard who thinks it's okay to trample over a woman's self-esteem and ruin her ability to trust for the rest of her life.

That, and perhaps he wishes he could fly.

My stepdad was sitting on a big, cushy recliner, smoking a pipe and reading a book. He had a thick head of silver hair and a neat, trimmed beard.