They piled their plates high, though the light was so dim it was impossible to tell what they were eating until it was tasted. They sat on the grass under a tree and chatted easily to the people who passed by. It was easy, Maggie thought. They were just people drawn to one place by music. Again she felt a sense of camaraderie and connection. Leaning back, Maggie scanned the crowd.

“I don’t see Louella.”

“Stan would’ve taken her home,” Cliff said between bites. “She never stays past midnight. He’ll come back.”

“Mmm.” Maggie sampled what turned out to be Waldorf salad.

“Miss Fitzgerald.”

Maggie set down her fork as Reiker crouched down beside her. “Lieutenant.”

“I enjoyed your playing.” He gave her the quiet smile that had her cursing her reaction to him. “I’ve listened to your music for years, but I never expected to be able to hear you play.”

“I’m glad you liked it.” She knew she should leave it at that, but felt compelled to go on. “I haven’t noticed you dancing.”

“Me?” The smile turned sheepish. “No, I don’t dance. My wife, now, she likes to come.”

Maggie felt herself relax. So the explanation had been a simple one, an innocent one. “Most people who appreciate music like to dance.”

“I’d like to. My feet don’t.” His gaze shifted to Cliff. “I want to thank you for your cooperation. It might help us tie up a few loose ends.”

“Whatever I can do,” Cliff said briskly. “We’d all like this business tied up.”

Reiker nodded, then, with some effort, rose. “I hope you’ll play some more before the night’s over, Miss Fitzgerald. It’s a real pleasure listening to you.”

When he was gone, Maggie let out a long breath. “It isn’t fair that he makes me uncomfortable. He’s only doing his job.” She began to pick at her food again when Cliff remained silent. “What did he mean by cooperation?”

“I contacted my mother. She’s coming up Monday to give a statement.”

“I see. That must be difficult for her.”

“No.” Cliff shrugged it off. “It was ten years ago. It’s behind her. It’s behind all of us,” he added quietly, “but one.”

Maggie closed her eyes on a shudder. She wouldn’t think of it now, not tonight. “Dance with me again,” she insisted when the musicians began to tune. “There are hours yet before dawn.”

She never tired, even after the moon began to set. The music and the movement gave her the release she needed for nervous energy. Some dancers faded; others became only more exuberant as the night grew later. The music never stopped.