“I don’t think so, Dad.”

“Oh, yes you are. I’d be a basket case.”

“Daddy, I have never known you once to be a basket case.”

“Then I did my job as a parent and hid it well.”

That gave Cindy pause. He must have handled hundreds of stressful cases over his career. And yet, except for the last few months, he had always seemed so placid.

“How are you doing?” Cindy asked.

“All right.”

The waitress came over with the coffee. “Are you ready to order?”

Cindy ordered toast, fruit, and more coffee; Decker made it times two. They sipped weak brew and smiled uncomfortably.

“We’re dancing around each other,” Cindy told him. “You’re not so good and neither am I.”

Decker held out his hand to her. “Can I help?”

“No,” Cindy answered. “Can I help?”

“Absolutely not.” Decker patted her hand, then pulled away. “And even if you could, I’d say no. Parents take care of the kids, not the other way around.”

“Will you ever stop thinking of me as your daughter?”

“Probably not. So tell me what’s on your mind.”

“I have lots on my mind. That’s why I have a therapist.”

Decker smiled. “I’m glad you’re still seeing someone. Rina tells me I need one.”

Cindy’s shrug was noncommittal.

“What do you think?”

She laughed. “You’re asking my opinion?”

“Yes, I am. I value your opinion. How’s your experience been with a shrink?”

She didn’t know if her father was patronizing her—trying to make her feel better—but she continued on the assumption that he wasn’t. “It’s good, Dad. You get to unburden yourself without burdening other people. I don’t like to spill my emotional guts. We’re more alike than you think.”

“I’d be honored to be like you.”

Cindy’s laugh was mirthless. “Man oh man, you must really think I’m bad off to be acting this nice.”

Decker laughed. “Okay. Now you’re sounding familiar. I feel better.”

“So, Loo, how do you feel about talking business?”

“It’s better than getting all weepy.”

“Exactly. So let me tell you what I found out and you tell me if I’m thinking straight or what.” Cindy recapped her discussion with Russ MacGregor, mainly her thoughts about the two cases— Belinda Syracuse’s hit-and-run, and Sarah Sanders’s rape—and how they might be related. By the time she was done, the food had come.

Decker buttered his toast. “As much as I’d like to agree with you, Cin, I think I’m going with MacGregor on this one.”

“That they have nothing to do with one another,” Cindy stated.

Decker took a bite and nodded. “You don’t even know if the hit-and-run was intentional or not. Have they even found the car?”

“I don’t think so, no.”

“Okay …” Decker polished off a piece of toast. He was hungry this morning. “Even if we assume that the hit-and-run was intentional, why would the two cases be related?”

“Maybe Belinda knew something about Sarah Sanders’s rape?”

“So why would someone bother to murder her now instead of six months ago?”