“When’s the last time you two went out on a date, just the two of you?” he asked Mitch, as he and the boys took their seats at Cleveland Stadium on opening day of the baseball season.

“Not since before all that stuff went down last fall,” Mitch replied. “I suggested it a few times, but I almost have the feeling that we wouldn’t have anything to talk about except for doom and gloom. She just hasn’t been the same since then.”

“You think I can’t see that?”

“I didn’t know it was that obvious. Carolyn’s pretty good at hiding her feelings.”

“And what about you, Mitch? Are things okay with you?”

“Sure,” he lied. What could he say? Had he answered truthfully, he would have said, “Now that you ask, Pops, there’s this little matter of a very hot Brit that I’m getting to know pretty well, who makes me feel like a man again, and we’re always at the same hotel and I don’t know where this is going to lead, but I see trouble brewing. But, hell, it’s not my fault because it’s all harmless, and I deserve a little female attention.”

Instead, he switched to the safe subject of sports. “Who’d they say is starting for the Indians today, Pops?”

And then there was the other obsession he hadn’t mentioned to anyone besides Devito, the private investigator he had hired to track down Logan Vonda. He was convinced the conniving creep had had a lot more to do with the crime than had been revealed. This ate at him like a burr under his cap, for months, but in April, he was truly astounded, insulted, and incensed when the inquest was held and it was concluded that Danny had acted alone. No charges would be brought against Vonda. Mitch was furious, but Carolyn didn’t care to discuss it.

“It doesn’t matter, Mitch. It’s over with, and whether that guy helped him or not, Danny did it. Let it go!”

But he wasn’t so easily dissuaded. The same Tooterville police officials who had allowed hordes of people to stomp all over the crime scene had also convinced themselves they had solved the case within twenty-four hours. It was over and done with, as far as they were concerned. Apparently they felt it was totally logical for someone to relinquish his phone, wait around in a car, and even take a nap after his friend announced he was going to murder his wife and then disappeared into the house to do just that. The picture the cops painted was of someone who’d simply been at the wrong place at the wrong time. A poor, innocent sap. A hapless fool. How could anyone have expected him to walk next door to a neighbor and report that a crime might be taking place? Let sleeping dogs lie.