Leary grabbed another chocolate doughnut and took a big bite. "You heard my ex-husband is in town and decided to arrest me before he turns up dead?" she asked brightly. "Get all your paperwork out of the way before the rush?"

Another tic, minimally bigger. "You thinking of killing him, are you?"

"Ever since the day he sold all my furniture to pay off his girlfriend's boob job."

"I'll keep that in mind. What time would be good for you, Ms. Leary?"

"How's fifteen minutes after he shows up at my front door, Detective? Give me time to find my baseball bat and you time to respond."

"I think it would more of a challenge if you didn't tell me when you were going to kill your ex-husband, Ms. Leary," Micklind retorted easily. "I just need to know when to stop by today."

Leary bobbed her head briskly. "Well, if you're going to be a good sport about it, then how's two? We'll be finished by then, and you'll still have an hour or so with your thumbscrews before my daughter shows up from school."

"Finished, huh?" he asked, leaning farther over so he could give Murphy the once-over. "Something I should know about?"

Leary shot Murphy a glance of pure mischief. "Not unless assignations are against the law. We're having a hot affair, Detective. Got a problem with that?"

"Over doughnuts?"

She grinned like a kid. "I knew a cop would understand. See you later, sir." And then, with his tie still almost hanging over the door, she started rolling the window back up.

All Micklind had to do to delay her was lay a beefy hand over the top of the glass. "You, too, Mr. Murphy. I figured you wouldn't mind a little insight into that collection of bruises you have."

Murphy had to admit surprise. "Not at all."

Micklind nodded, lifted his hand, and recovered his tie.

"This town gets more interesting by the minute," Murphy mused.

Leary laughed. "And you thought you wouldn't like it here."

"I don't. The last thing I want right now is interesting."

She laughed again, which just told him that she understood him much too well.

* * *

They saw six more families. Not one other person even flinched when asked about whether they'd been approached to end a parent's life. A few got downright surly. Most showed the usual mix of grief, guilt, and relief that Murphy had come to expect. He got his fill after the first set. By the last, he was surlier than anybody except Leary, who was actively grinding her teeth. Which made up Murphy's mind about where they were headed next.

"Are you telling me I'm not good company?" she demanded, the manic humor phase of her mood long since dead and withered.

Murphy swung the car into her driveway and parked. "Enough is enough for one day, Leary. Even I can take only so much of this at once. I figure you're about to implode."

She was picking at the stitching on her purse until the whole thing threatened to come apart. "I'm nothing of the sort, Murphy. I'm just keyed up and sore."

"You've spent four hours wallowing around in what's going to happen to your father. Go play with your kid. Play baseball if you have to. Remind yourself there's something else."

"Is this part of your recovery?" she demanded. "Counseling the huddled masses?"

"I'm not going to do any investigation when I get back to the paper," he informed her. "I'm going to check over the article I wrote about your father. It's coming out tomorrow."

Even her restless fingers stopped. "Great. A brand-new round of 'Innisfree' and 'Foggy Dew.' I may shoot myself."

"I'll save you a copy for later when you feel more like reading it."

The inside of that car was getting mighty close. "I'm a big girl, Murphy. You don't have to protect me from that old man."

Over on the side of Leary's yard an oak tree was losing its leaves. Murphy watched them drop, one by one, onto the unraked lawn.

"I was a great drunk, Leary," he said. "Entertaining as hell, everybody's friend. Won two Pulitzers and broke in some of the finest newsmen in the business when I was so fried I couldn't remember to unzip before I took a piss." He sucked in a breath to deliver the judgment it had taken him four treatment centers to make. "I also drove my first two wives to nervous breakdowns. Which means, I guess, that I'm familiar with the territory."

There was a tiny pause. And then a sore laugh. "All the gin joints in all the world." She sighed. "Leave it alone, Murphy. Leave me alone."

"And sex is..."

She sighed again. "I'll let you know." And got out of the car.

And Murphy, who hadn't had to recheck an article since he'd been twenty, went home for a while to hide.

Chapter 18

Conrad had been waiting on Timmie's answering machine when she got home. So had Cindy, the insurance company, and the lawyer, who had called to tell Timmie that Jason's latest salvo had been successfully blocked. After the day she'd had, Timmie decided that the only person she wanted to talk to was Conrad.

"Bella donna!" he crowed in her ear as she sat half sprawled on her couch with the phone cord stretched all the way from the dining room. "You found me at last."

"Quite a way of putting it," Timmie had to agree. Having tossed the good clothes she'd donned for the interviews the minute she'd hit the door, she now reclined in T-shirt and jeans. She ached like a sore tooth, her scalp itched, and she was tired and as crabby as hell after spending the day talking to those relatives. "Conrad, this is important. Where's the printout I gave you?"

"Right here, of course. I've been poring over it like the Dead Sea Scrolls, seeking truth and inspiration."

"Seek this. Somebody ran me off the road on the way home from our little visit to get hold of that list. Any ideas why?"

For the first time since Timmie had known him, Conrad was struck dumb with surprise. "Are you all right?" he asked in a hushed tone Timmie almost didn't recognize.

Timmie damn near teared up. "I'm fine. I'm mad as hell and out for revenge, though. Wanna come along?"

"More than I want to see Domingo sing at La Scala. Tell me what you need."

That made her sigh and rub her face. "I don't know. I thought they were after the original M and M list because they meant to change the one in the computer, but the computer version is still identical. Evidently we're the only ones who've figured out how suspicious those cardiac arrests are."

"Then what?"

"Take another look through it. Is there anything else that speaks to you?"

She closed her eyes to the sound of rustling paper and thought about taking a hot bath before Micklind got there. She thought of the visit she should make out to her father that afternoon and the inevitable arrival of Cindy to remind her of just why she hadn't visited her sisters since she'd been back. She thought of her daughter, who would be walking home from school with a bodyguard.

Well, that was so much fun that she went back to considering the interviews. The not-so-surprised reactions of the relatives. The unspoken pleas to just let it all go. The ambivalence that still lay on the back of her tongue like old ashes, and the fact that if she didn't come up with something soon, she was going to have to endure another shift at Restcrest.