‘Not so small,’ Cab admitted. ‘I called your assistant. He said this is where you were.’

‘Oh, cool, okay. Hope you weren’t waiting too long.’

‘Not long at all,’ Cab said.

A gust of wind rattled the car. Wet leaves and garlands of Spanish moss blew across the chassis. A hundred yards away, the surface of the lake was dappled by the relentless downpour.

‘Woo, what a storm, huh?’ Garth exulted. ‘And this is only the teaser. I’ve got to get back to Tampa before the roads get too bad.’

‘I won’t take a lot of your time.’

‘Oh, don’t worry about it, I’m fine.’ The trainer nodded at the house across the street, which had manicured hedges and white columns adorning a long front porch. ‘Been doing weekly massages for that lady for fifteen years. Hundred-dollar tip every time, but wow, it’s like rubbing one of them shar pei dogs, know what I mean? Wrinkles everywhere. People think the massage biz is glamorous, like you spend your days oiling up women who look like Beyoncé. I mean, I’m not saying you don’t get a hot twenty-something now and then, but they’re never the ones who spread their legs and ask if you can give an all-over massage, know what I mean?’

Whenever Garth talked, Cab found himself practicing transcendental meditation to see if he could crowd out whatever the man was saying.

‘Hey, want a power bar?’ Garth asked, digging in his pocket and pulling out a chocolate protein bar. Cab shook his head, and Garth unwrapped it and took a big, chewy bite. ‘Anyway, it’s a living. I’d love to give up most of my personal clients and focus on my training videos, but I’m not there yet. Who knows, Diane gets in, maybe I get a publicity bump, you know?’

‘Beat the Girth … With the Gov?’ Cab asked.

Garth laughed, spitting granola onto the dashboard. His teeth were oddly purple against his Coppertone face. He’d been drinking wine, and he seemed a little drunk. ‘I love it! I love it!’

Cab studied the wet, muscle-bound masseur. A hanger-on, that was how Gladiola Croft described him. Garth stayed close to Diane for the perks it brought him. Money. Access. Clients. Gladiola said he was always around that summer, and ten years later, he was still a fixture in Diane’s life. Cab didn’t think it was sexual. The vibe that Garth gave off was overtly gay. Even so, he appeared to be Diane’s secret-keeper.

‘Listen, Garth, I need your help with something,’ Cab said.

The masseur nodded. ‘Yeah, sure, what ya got?’

‘Someone connected to the Common Way Foundation was murdered last month.’

‘Oh, is this the guy that this chick Peach was talking about? I heard about that last night.’

‘Justin Kiel,’ Cab said.

‘Okay, yeah, what about him?’

‘Did you know who he was? Did you ever talk to him?’