In the bedroom there were Ethan Frome, In the Electric Mist with Confederate Dead, and Persuasion, from evidence of bookmarks being read simultaneously.

Liam read a lot, too, mostly history and poetry, but hed never had books stacked back to back all going at once the way Wy did. He was pretty sure she had kept every book shed ever read, too; there were bookcases in every room of the house including the bathroom, all flavors, essays by Carl Sagan, historical romances by Thomas B. Costain, the entire Oz collection.

Hed found her weeping one day the previous week, huddled over a much-thumbed copy of a mystery, one of a series. In this one the heroines lover had died. She took it as a personal affront“I cant believe she did that! How could she do that?and threw the book across the room, only to retrieve it a moment later and force him to listen to her read the death scene out loud. He was amazed at how involved she became in the story, and a little amused, but he was afraid that if he made some smart remark the next time shed throw the book at him, so he kept his mouth shut.

It was something else to know about her, something they hadnt gotten around to sharing in that brief time they had had together three years before, something he could add to his growing store of information. He wanted to know everything about her, every single thing, from the way her toes curled when he bit the sole of her foot to the way she played air mandolin with John Hiatt, to the way she mothered Tim, the adopted son in the room down the hall.

A green Chevy Suburban pulled out suddenly from a side street and wavered from center line to shoulder, put on a brief spurt of speed, slowed down, speeded up again.

Well, hell. Liam hit the lights and the siren.

The Suburban put on another burst of speed and, just about the time he thought he might have a Hollywood car chase on his hands, screeched over to the side of the road and slammed on the brakes, skidding another four feet in the loose gravel before coming to a halt somewhat perpendicular to the line of traffic.

Liam got out of the Blazer. The driver got out of the Suburban. “Stay in your vehicle, maam, Liam said, but she ignored him, walking toward him with a step as straight as the course she had been driving.

He sighed. But this day had begun with such promise, he thought, struggling to master a reminiscent grin when the woman reached him. The smell of alcohol got to him first.

She stopped four feet away, glaring at him and weaving a little on her feet. This time he had no trouble holding back a smile. “Amelia, did you have breakfast at the Breeze Inn again?

“Damn right, she said, blinking rapidly, as if trying and failing to focus. “I can do anything I wanna, Im the councilmans wife.