He pulled out his phone and dialed Lala Mosqueda’s number. The call went to voicemail, the way it always did lately. He’d left several messages. She hadn’t returned them.

‘Wawa?’ said his mother. Tarla stood in the doorway between the sliding glass doors, still in the dress she’d worn to Diane’s party.

‘That stopped being funny a long time ago,’ Cab said.

‘I’m sorry, you’re right.’ His mother joined him on the balcony, leaning her bare elbows on the railing. The warm breeze off the water rustled her hair. ‘So what does she call me? The Hollywood witch?’

‘It rhymes with that,’ Cab said.

‘Well, good for her,’ Tarla said, smiling. She added, as if she were checking on whether he wanted his coffee black: ‘Are you in love with her, or is it just the sex?’

‘Next subject.’

‘Oh come on, darling.’

‘I wasn’t born with the love gene,’ Cab told her, which was a lie. He’d been wildly in love with Vivian Frost in Barcelona. ‘However, I’m also not into meaningless cheap flings.’

‘I detect a little bit of an accusation in that statement.’

‘Maybe you do.’

In his lifetime, he couldn’t remember his mother seriously involved with anyone. She’d drifted from affair to affair, and she’d broken up more than one marriage. He loved his mother, but there were days when he didn’t always like her. She was beautiful, and she was a loner, and he blamed her sometimes for making him the way he was.

In other words, he was a lot like her.

‘I’m not trying to split the two of you up,’ Tarla said. ‘If you want to make it work with Lala, make it work. However, let’s be honest, darling. I saw you with Caprice Dean this evening. There were sparks flying.’

‘She’s attractive. That’s all it is.’

‘Is that a sin? I’ve known Caprice for years. She’s pretty, smart, serious, and she’s going places. If Diane wasn’t running this year, Caprice probably would, and as young as she is, I think she’d win. That’s the kind of woman you belong with, Cab.’

‘I really don’t need romantic advice from you, Mother,’ he said. ‘Did you know Caprice wanted me to do investigative work for her when you asked me to come up this weekend?’

‘She may have mentioned it,’ Tarla said.

‘So you lured me here under false pretenses.’

‘Would you have come otherwise? Besides, this way I get to see you. I didn’t leave London for the cultural life of Clearwater. The seafood is wonderful, and the boys on the beach are cute, but otherwise, it’s a bit of a wasteland. I’m here because of you, Cab. Unless you’d prefer I go away.’

‘I didn’t say that,’ Cab replied. ‘I’m glad you’re here.’