‘Oh.’ Lala knew what his nickname meant. It was a symbol of his jackrabbit past. Never staying in one place. Never staying in one job. He was always chasing something or being chased. ‘So are you going to leave Florida? Tarla won’t be happy.’

‘What about you?’

‘This is about you, not me.’

‘I didn’t say I wanted to leave town. I’m saying I like the idea of working for myself. My vacation from the Naples Police is likely to become permanent. I don’t think I was born to be part of a bureaucracy.’

‘Okay.’

‘I just want to make sure you understand that it has nothing whatsoever to do with you and me.’

‘Okay.’

But he didn’t think she believed him.

‘Happy Independence Day,’ he said.

‘What?’

‘It’s past midnight. It’s the Fourth of July.’

‘You’re right.’

‘No fireworks this year. Chayla’s spoiling the party.’

‘I guess so.’

‘Did you know that Independence Day is the anniversary of Hamilton Brock going to prison?’ he asked.

‘I didn’t.’

‘That bothers me. Anniversaries like that are dangerous. Except now I’m starting to wonder whether the Liberty Empire Alliance was involved in Birch’s murder at all.’

He heard a knocking on his motel room door.

‘I have to go,’ he said. ‘I ordered a pizza.’

‘You?’

‘Yes, me. There aren’t many options here this late.’

‘Pizza Hut doesn’t put brie and spinach on their pies, you know.’

‘So they told me,’ Cab said.

‘Listen, Cab, there’s something you should know.’

‘What?’

She didn’t answer right away. He thought of a thousand different things she might say, and he wasn’t sure how to reply to any of them.

‘Nothing,’ she went on.

‘Are you sure?’

‘I’m sure. Enjoy your pizza. But remember what I said. If you discover anything that doesn’t feel right, I want you to call me right away.’

‘Okay.’

‘I mean it. Call me.’

‘Yes, Mother.’

‘Oh, that is so not funny.’

‘Sure it is,’ he said.

Cab hung up and put down his wine glass. He felt bad about bringing a pizza delivery guy out in the storm, but he was hungry, and the kid would like the tip. He couldn’t believe they didn’t put brie on their pizzas.

He grabbed his wallet out of his pocket and opened the motel room door, ushering in a wave of silver rain. It wasn’t a teenager delivering his pizza.

Peach Piper stood on the doorstep.

34

‘Well,’ Cab Bolton said, as he ushered her into the motel room and closed the door. ‘It’s Peach, isn’t it?’

‘Yes.’

She watched the gangly detective slump into a chair by the window. He looked amused, rather than surprised, to see her here. He held up a half-empty bottle of wine. ‘Want a glass? It’s excellent, I promise.’

‘I don’t drink.’

‘I have a pizza coming, if you’re hungry.’