She idolized Lyle, but that was the fuzzy glow of memory. He wasn’t perfect. He’d often been harsh and judgmental with both of them. He could be neglectful, especially that last year, when politics constantly took him away. The Common Way Party was his priority then, not her. She remembered a long weekend in Tampa that last August. Deacon and Peach had gone on the road with Lyle, but instead of having fun in the city, Lyle had packed fundraising meetings into his schedule night and day, leaving them alone. Then, to make things worse, Peach contracted a case of pneumonia that left her hacking and feverish. Lyle acted as if it were her fault – like she was being sick just to inconvenience him. He’d insisted that Deacon drive her back to Lake Wales, and that had prompted a big argument, because Deacon wanted to stay. Then Deacon hit a deer on the road, damaging Lyle’s precious new Mercedes. Another big argument. Peach had been practically delirious, but she had never forgotten the curses flying for days.

Those were among her last memories of Lyle, and she didn’t like it that way.

The shower stopped. Not long after, Deacon turned on the light, making her squint. He stood in the living room doorway, with his muscular body wrapped in a worn bath towel.

‘Fruity,’ he said in surprise. ‘I didn’t know you were still up.’

‘Couldn’t sleep.’

He sat down on the old sofa next to her. She could feel warmth radiating from his skin, and his wavy red hair was damp. ‘What’s Sexpot doing in here?’ he asked.

‘Oh, you know her. She gets around.’

Deacon laughed. ‘You get anything at the convention today?’

‘Actually, I didn’t go. The new girl, Annalie, hung out with me at the beach.’

‘Good for you.’ He pointed at her taped ankle. ‘How’d you do that?’

‘I stepped wrong in the sand. It’s nothing. I’m fine.’

She thought about telling him about her visit to Justin’s apartment – and her confrontation with the stranger pretending to be a St Petersburg detective – but she knew Deacon would be stern. He was overprotective, like Lyle, and he wouldn’t like the idea of her sticking her nose into Justin’s murder.

Was that what she was doing? She hadn’t really admitted it to herself, but it was true. She didn’t believe his death had anything to do with drugs. He’d been hiding something from her, and whatever it was had gotten him killed. She thought about Annalie. Sometimes special projects go on behind the scenes. People get recruited to do things they don’t want to do.

‘Can I ask you something?’ she said.

‘Sure.’

‘Do you know what Justin was working on before he was killed?’

Deacon shook his head. ‘No, Ogden pretty much had him under his thumb those last few weeks.’

‘Ogden did?’