‘You don’t have a cat.’

‘Well, that’s lucky.’

She smiled at him. A smile deserved a kiss, so he bent down and kissed her. They were bad at some things together, and good at others, and they were good at kissing.

‘Won’t Tarla miss you if you go?’ Lala asked.

‘She misses me already. She misses me when I’m here.’

‘Where is she, by the way?’

‘Picking up Caprice.’ He waited for her face to erupt with displeasure, and then he said quickly: ‘Kidding. Kidding. You really don’t like Caprice, do you?’

‘No, I don’t.’ Lala added pointedly: ‘Have you seen her lately?’

‘No, but she’s been pretty busy.’

‘Do you miss her?’

‘I’ve been thinking about her a lot,’ Cab admitted.

‘Wrong answer.’

‘Not in the way you mean,’ he replied.

Puzzlement crossed Lala’s face, but she didn’t press him for an explanation. She wandered toward one of the sofas and put down her wine glass on a walnut table. He came up behind her and stroked a bare shoulder.

‘I tried calling Ramona,’ Lala said, ‘but I didn’t reach her.’

‘She’s busy, too.’

‘I don’t believe what they’re saying about her in the press.’

‘As a cop or as a cousin?’ he asked.

‘Both. I’ve known her for years. She’s a good person.’

‘She admitted that Lyle consulted her about the hit and run,’ he said.

‘Only in general terms. Not about Deacon specifically or about the accident.’

‘Ramona is smart,’ Cab said. ‘It’s hard to believe she didn’t make the connection.’

‘If she did, she would have taken it to the grave. She’s a lawyer.’

‘I’m not sure I share your charitable opinion of lawyers,’ Cab said. He kissed her neck, but she tensed. ‘Sorry, I didn’t say you were wrong about her. Sometimes I can’t resist playing devil’s advocate. It’s a terrible flaw.’

She relaxed and turned around. ‘I apologize. I’m the one who’s being sensitive. You’re right, I don’t know the truth. I only know what I believe.’

‘That’s good enough for me.’

‘You’re buttering me up, but I still think you’re more interested in getting my dress on the floor.’

‘Guilty.’

Lala ran a finger along his chin. ‘Would you really come back home with me tomorrow?’

‘Yes.’

‘That’s an incentive, I’ll admit.’

‘Good.’

She picked up her wine glass again. ‘So are you serious about taking up special investigative projects? Or are you going to stay unemployed and watch soap operas and knit sweaters for your cat?’

‘I don’t have a cat,’ he said.

‘Oh, that’s right.’

‘I am serious,’ he said. ‘In fact, I’m thinking of taking on a partner for my agency.’