‘Do you think she’s okay?’ Lala asked.

Cab followed Lala’s eyes to Peach, who stood on the balcony of his mother’s condominium. The young girl leaned against the railing, staring out at the calm waters of the Gulf. For as young as she was, she looked older now. An old soul. He’d grown very fond of her, in the way a man does who has lost a daughter. She was quirky, but so was he. She had strange New Age ideas, and she was altogether too serious, but for someone who had lost as much as she had, she dealt with it well.

‘Actually, I think she’s fine,’ Cab said. He added: ‘It helps her to have a friend like you.’

Lala smiled. ‘Are you being charming?’

‘Always.’

She tipped her wine glass against his. He didn’t think she’d ever looked more elegant. Lala, who lived in her black jeans and black T-shirts, wore a fuchsia cocktail dress that barely reached to her knees. A deeper crimson sash circled her waist, with a flowered brooch in the middle. The dress was sleeveless, showing off her lean, strong arms. Her tumbling black hair ended in broad curls below her shoulders.

‘Did I mention you look beautiful?’ Cab added.

‘Tarla said formal.’

‘She’ll be jealous. She’s not used to being outdazzled.’

‘Smooth talker,’ Lala said, but he knew she was pleased. ‘Do I need to compliment you, too?’

‘Yes, because I am so insecure about my looks,’ Cab said.

‘Very.’

He grinned. ‘You’ll stay the night?’

‘You just want to see this dress in a pool at my feet.’

‘I do.’

‘We’ll see,’ she said. ‘Some of us work for a living, you know.’

‘Sounds dreary,’ he replied.

He knew she had to be back home in the morning. It was an August weekend. Lala had joined him in Clearwater late on Friday, and it was Sunday now. Tarla had made herself discreetly absent for most of that time, but she had insisted on a dinner party before Lala returned to Naples. He suspected it was really more of a spying mission on his relationship with Lala.

‘What about you?’ she asked.

He understood the question. When would he come home? He lived on the beach in Naples, but he’d stayed here in the apartment next to his mother for more than a month. Lala was starting to wonder if he’d ever return or if he was now permanently under Tarla’s thumb. There was no job to pull him home anymore. He’d already made good on his promise to resign from the Naples police. He was a free man, for whatever that was worth. He didn’t know exactly what freedom entailed. So far, he wasn’t in a hurry to find out.

‘Maybe I’ll come home with you tomorrow,’ he said.

‘Really?’

‘I do miss my place. Plus, I should probably feed the cat, right?’