The Crab Claw sat right on the Inner Harbor. Patrick parked and walked down the cobblestone streets, into the raucous bar. He scanned the scene, saw Jim sitting with another man at a table on the deck. Making his way through the crowd, he saw who it was—Jack O'Brien, the assistant district attorney who had helped him with his case several years ago.

“Hey, Patrick, great to see you,” Jim said.

“You too,” Patrick said, shaking hands. “And, Jack—how are you?”

“Fine, Pat,” Jack said. “Jim told me you were in town, so I thought I'd join in. It's been a long time. What's this I hear about you retiring?”

“The time had come,” Patrick said, grinning. “Too much police work, not enough life.” They caught up on the case they had shared, Patrick telling them that the suspect they'd caught was still in Somers, doing fifteen years for bank robbery. They asked him about Mara Jameson, and he filled them in on how she had returned as if from the dead. The waiter came and took their order, and Patrick sipped his Coke, watching boats in the harbor.

“So, you're retired,” Jim said, “but you're still doing police work.”

“Not really,” Patrick said. “I'm just looking for a friend's sister.”

“Yeah, Jim tells me you're looking for one of the Mahon girls,” Jack said. “The Fallen Angels.”

“You know them?”

“I did. And I remember their music even now—fifteen years later. They played in a pub just around the corner from the courthouse. Half the cops and lawyers were in love with them. Sam went out with a friend of mine for a little while, right after Patty first moved away.”

Patrick did his best to interview his old friend as subtly as possible. Sam Mahon had stayed on staff at Johns Hopkins after graduation, heading up a team of nurses that would travel to South America, Africa, and the Far East as they were needed and funding would allow.

“She missed her sister a lot,” Jack said. “I remember that so well. They'd been inseparable. Sam had come to Johns Hopkins because her big sister was already here. They were really close. So when Patty got married and moved to Boston, Sam had a tough time.”

“She didn't play music after that?” Patrick asked.

“Not unless her sister came back to visit. They had a few reunion shows. Everyone loved them.”

“What happened?” Patrick asked.

“I don't know. Patty's first husband died, and she married someone else—too soon, maybe. He was a jerk, I think. Sam didn't like him, didn't like what he was doing to her sister.”

“Did he beat her?” Jim asked.

Patrick sipped his Coke. Cops always asked that—“Did he beat her?” As if the only damage could be done with fists. “No,” Patrick said.

“That's right, you know her,” Jack said.