Marie Letaux’s son, Pierre, was tall and good-looking and clearly devastated by his mother’s death. He was surrounded by friends and relatives when Eve approached him after the ceremony at the small church.

Eve held out her hand. “I’m Eve Duncan. I’d like to express my condolences. I didn’t know your mother well, but I may have been the last person to see her. Did she tell you that she was taking a job with me?” Pierre nodded. “She was excited. She knew you were someone important.”

“Not really.”

“Mr. Tanzer said that you were famous. She liked the idea of working for a woman who’d made something of her life.” His eyes filled with tears. “Mama wanted to be famous. I didn’t tell her, but after I get out of medical school and set up practice I was going to set her up with her own restaurant. I should have told her.” His voice broke. “I wish I’d told her. It was going to be a surprise.”

“She knew you loved her. She was very proud of you.” Eve glanced at the flower-draped coffin, which had been placed in a gray hearse. “She wanted so much for you to finish your education.”

Pierre nodded jerkily. “She was always thinking of ways to help me. She called me the night before she died and told me not to worry, that she’d worked out a way to get the money for my tuition. That everything was going to be fine.”

“She did?”

He nodded, his gaze shifting to the coffin. “I’m sorry, I have to go now.”

“Of course. I hope everything goes well for you in the future.”

“I can’t think of anything but Mama now. It’s very difficult for me. I thought my heart would break when I was going through her things last night. So many memories…” He tried to smile. “But I go back to school tomorrow, and I’ll try very hard to make something of myself that would have made her proud. I thank you for your good wishes.” He turned and moved toward the hearse.

“Nice kid.” Galen had moved forward to stand beside her.

She watched the hearse move slowly through the cemetery toward the grave where Marie would be buried. “Yes.”

He took her elbow. “Ready to go?”

She nodded, her gaze still on the hearse. “Did you hear what he said about the call from his mother?”

“Yes.”

“Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“You’ll make up your own mind. I hate to say I told you so.”

“It may not mean anything.” Her hands clenched into fists. “Dammit, I didn’t want to believe it. I still don’t.”

“On the other hand, young Letaux may find a pleasant surprise when he opens her safety-deposit box.” Galen gently nudged Eve toward his car. ”Now how about having lunch and a little tour of the city before I take you back to the house? I think you need to unwind.“

“Okay.” She took a final glance over her shoulder at the hearse, and Marie’s son, who was going to say his final good-bye to the mother he loved. And Marie had loved him, too.

Enough to do this terrible thing for his sake?

“Stop worrying,” Galen said. “Never ruin a good meal with bad thoughts. Tell me about your daughter, Jane. I heard she took over my nursing duty last year after I left Sarah Patrick’s cabin in Phoenix. Don’t deflate my ego by saying she did as good a job as I did.”

“Well, Sarah must have thought she did pretty well. Jane got a puppy out of it.”

“Do you consider that bad or good?”

Eve smiled. “It’s good. The puppy is pure Monty… I hope. I haven’t seen any signs of anything savage about Toby.”

“Too bad. I’ve never seen anything wrong with a little dash of the tiger. It makes the mix more interesting.”

“I don’t agree.”

“I believe you do. You chose Quinn.”

Yes, Joe had more than a little tiger in him, but she’d not seen it in the last year.

She had seen nothing but love and companionship and togetherness. It had been magic. No, better than magic, because it had been honest and real.

At least she’d thought it had been honest.

She smothered the ripple of pain. Would she ever be able to think about Joe without that hurt? She changed the subject. “Where are we going to eat? Nothing heavy. My stomach still feels like it’s taken a beating from Evander Holyfield.” The safety-deposit box.

Eve sat up straight in bed, her heart pounding. “Galen!”

“I hear you,” Galen called from the next room. He was there in seconds. “What’s wrong? Did you see any—”

“The safety-deposit box. I was asleep, but I woke up and it was—”

“Slow down. Get your breath.” He sat down on the bed beside her and set the revolver he’d carried on the nightstand. “A nightmare?”

“No. It must have been in the back of my mind and it—Marie’s safety-deposit box.

You thought there was probably a bribe in it, and whoever poisoned me was trying to make sure to make it look like an accident. It was important to him not to draw attention to why it was being done.”

“And?”

“Pierre, her son. He was going back to New Orleans tomorrow morning. He wanted to be done with all these details. There’s a good chance he would have gone to the bank this afternoon and tried to tie up all her affairs. If there was a huge amount in that safety-deposit box, it would have sent up a red flag, wouldn’t it?”

“You’re thinking someone might want to stop him from reporting that money.” Eve moistened her lips. “Oh, God, I hope not.” She got to her feet. “I want to go to see him. I’m getting dressed. Will you call Marie’s house and see if you can reach him?”

“Do you have the number?”

“No.”

“I’ll call information.” Galen reached for the phone on the nightstand and turned on the light.

She blinked. “You’re naked.”

“You screamed. I wasn’t about to take the time to get dressed.” He spoke into the phone and then glanced over his shoulder. “Get moving.” She didn’t need to be told twice. She hurried out of the bedroom and down the hall to the bathroom.

When she came back five minutes later, Galen was coming out of his room, tucking his shirt into his khakis. “Pierre didn’t answer.” He glanced at her. “Look, this may be a false alarm, but when we get there, I’m in charge. You don’t do anything until I tell you to do it. Okay?”

“I hear you. Just hurry.”

No one answered the knock.

“He could have decided to leave early,” Galen said. “Or perhaps staying here brought back too many memories.”

“I don’t like it,” Eve said. “Is the door locked?”

“Yes.” Galen bent over the knob for a moment. “But if it will make you feel better…” The door swung open. “I go in first. You stay out here until I call you. If you see anything, you call me.”

“I want to—” Eve nodded impatiently. “Hurry. If he’s not here, I need to track him down at a hotel.”

“I’ll hurry.” Galen disappeared into the house.

She didn’t want to wait outside. She glanced uneasily over her shoulder at the windows of the houses on either side of the street. Dark, silent.

Watching.

Foolishness. No one was watching.

“Come in.” Galen was back. “It’s safe.”

“Is he here?”

“He’s here.” He shut the door. “But you may not want to see him. He’s not a pretty sight. His head’s half blown off.”

Shock jolted through her. “What?”

“There at the desk across the room.”

The lights were off, but she could dimly see a figure slumped at the desk.

“Pierre?”

“As far as I could tell.”

“Murdered.”

“It’s staged to look like a suicide. The gun’s still in his hand. He may have actually pulled the trigger.”

“Like Marie was forced to eat the stew,” she said dully.

“Right.”

“I want to see him.”

“You’re sure?”

“It won’t be the first corpse I’ve seen, Galen.”

“I know, but I have to fight my protective instincts.” He nicked on the lamp by the door. “Don’t touch anything.”

Blood and brain matter were splattered everywhere. She forced herself to walk forward until she stood in front of the desk. Several framed pictures of Pierre’s mother were spread on the desk in front of him. To one side lay a pile of letters spattered with blood.