“I made a reservation for us at One if by Land, Two if by Sea.” Martin’s voice was smooth as polished glass. “You always loved that restaurant, and you can certainly use some cheering up, with everything going on.”

“No,” I said flatly. There was a stunned silence from Martin, and I felt cruel. I hadn’t meant to be rude, but the image of Martin and me reverting to old habits at old haunts shook me. One if by Land was arguably the most romantic restaurant in the city, a luxurious spot nestled into Aaron Burr’s eighteenth-century carriage house, all flowers and fireplaces and candlelight. “I’ll meet you for a drink downtown.”

“If that’s what you’d prefer,” said Martin quietly. “I thought you loved One if by Land.”

He was the one who adored that restaurant, but I wasn’t going to remind him of that now. “I’ll meet you at that flamenco bar I used to like so much. Do you remember it?” I glanced at Bruxton, whose eyes were on the road, but I wasn’t fooled. There was simply no way I’d give up any detail I didn’t have to within earshot of the man.

“Flamenco bar?” There was a pause. “Wait, that place on Crosby you dragged me to a couple of times?”

“See you there at six.” We said goodbye, and I snapped the phone closed.

“Sounds like you’re going on a date,” said Bruxton. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“It’s just an old friend.” Once the words escaped my lips, I realized how stupid they sounded. I’d called Martin an old friend that morning, in front of Bruxton. Now I sounded like I was hiding something. “I meant to ask you before, is there anything new on the girl who died?”

“She was a strawberry blond,” said Bruxton. In his upstate accent, blond came out bland. “She’d dyed her hair black. We’re wondering if it’s the same woman your superintendent saw back in October.”

“But Mr. Pete said that woman was on the, um, full-figured side.”

“True, but we found plenty of diet pills and laxatives in the apartment. And we know this woman was bulimic.”

“They finally did the autopsy?”

“No, the ME is hoping to get to it this afternoon. But he could tell about the bulimia by the acid damage on the dead woman’s teeth. She’d had to have a lot of expensive dental work because of it.”

“Ugh.” I had a longstanding terror of dentists that I didn’t feel like sharing with Bruxton. “That’s disgusting.”

“Hopefully she’ll have more for us soon.” He fixed his eyes on the road. “What do you think is going on with your sister? You know her better than anyone. What’s your instinct?”

“Claudia and I haven’t been close since we were kids.”

“Why not?”