“Do you know a lot about the art world?” Anne asked in all innocence.

“I know talent,” she said defensively. “And I know people. I’m very good at putting the right people together to make things happen. This is partly why I’m so disappointed in Cal Dixon. He could have gone places. Now, after the way he’s botched this investigation ...”

“It isn’t over yet,” Anne said, hoping to defuse Bordain’s rising level of tension. “Things could turn in another direction.”

“They had certainly better,” Milo snapped. “Everything I do for this community, and this is the thanks I get? Having my son’s name dragged through the mud?”

“Haley!” Anne called. “Come have something to eat.”

So we can get the hell out of here.

Haley climbed up on the picnic bench, looked at the spread, and announced, “I don’t like this kind of food.”

“This is a very nice lunch, young lady,” Milo said.

“Have some grapes,” Anne suggested.

“No.”

“How about a cracker?” Anne said.

“No! I wanna go play with my kitties!”

“No playing until after lunch,” Milo declared.

Haley got a mad face. “You can’t tell me. You’re not my mommy!”

The look on Milo’s face frightened Anne. “Don’t you talk back to me, young lady! You’ll grow up to be an arrogant little bitch, just like your mother!”

Haley started to cry.

Anne wanted to lash out at Bordain, but something, some instinct stopped her—self-preservation, fear? All she knew for certain was that it was past time to go. Milo Bordain’s behavior was becoming increasingly erratic.

“I’m sorry,” Anne said to their hostess, getting up from the table. She put an arm around Haley, still standing on the bench. “This is just not the day to do this. I think we should leave.”

Bordain arched a brow. “After I’ve gone to all this trouble?”

“I’m really sorry,” Anne said, “but this is a difficult time for Haley.”

“She’s just being a brat,” Bordain said. “If you would discipline her—”

“It’s not that simple,” Anne said.

“I’ve told you time and again—”

“Mommy Anne ...,” Haley whined. “Mommy Anne—”

“Stop calling her that!” Milo shouted.

Haley sobbed.

“Okay, that’s it,” Anne said. “We’re done here. We’re going home.”

“You can’t just leave,” Milo said. “After I’ve gone to all this trouble—”

“Nobody asked you to go to any trouble,” Anne said.

“Isn’t that just like you?” Bordain said. “You’ve never appreciated anything I’ve ever done for you. You’re nothing but an ungrateful little whore!”

Fear went through Anne like a bolt of lightning. Milo Bordain wasn’t speaking to her. Milo Bordain didn’t know her, had never done anything for her. She was talking to Marissa.

Automatically Anne’s eyes went to the picnic table and the knife that had been left there to slice the bread.