Cal laughed. “Dream on.” He checked his watch. “Well, I’ll see you later. I’m going down to the restaurant.”

She knew the one he was talking about. It had flamenco dancers and a super band. She’d gone there with him once, to watch people do the tango. Cal had tried unsuccessfully to teach her how to do it. But she had two left feet.

“What are you thinking so hard about?” he wondered.

“Tango,” she returned.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I have never in my life met anyone who couldn’t even do a simple two-step before. You’re a lost cause, Clancey.”

She grinned. “I know! I love music. Granddaddy played classical guitar. He could make the instrument wail.”

“You do pretty well with that yourself,” he recalled, having heard her play.

“I took lessons, while Mama was still alive. I love the guitar.”

“Do you still play?”

“Not so much,” she said quietly. “But I still can.”

“I used to play piano,” he recalled. “But I can’t even remember the scales anymore. We lose what we don’t use.”

“So true.” She sighed. “Thanks so much for all you’ve done for us this week,” she said.

“It’s no problem. You going to try to go back to work Monday?”

She shook her head. “Mr. Banks said to come in Tuesday. He’ll be out of town all day Monday on a case.”

“You should be on the way to recovery by then,” he replied.

She glanced toward the doorway and lowered her voice. “Have you heard any more about Morris?”

“Not yet. I’ll keep checking. There are some new apartments over by the hospital,” he said. “They’re low-rent. I’m going to check on them early next week.”

“I appreciate that.” She sighed. “I love this house, but I can’t live with Morris. I won’t even try. I know Tad won’t.”

“Your stepbrother is fooling the parole board,” he said coldly. “He’s ingratiated himself to the warden with favors. I’m not sure exactly what they are, but the man went to bat for him at his hearing. It carried weight. He’s been on his best behavior. No infractions. He hasn’t even gotten into a fight in five years.”

“That doesn’t sound like Morris,” she said flatly. “He had a black temper.”

“I think he probably still does,” he replied. “He’s putting on an act. But when he gets out...”

“I know. The old gang he ran with is still around,” she said. “They cow the merchants nearby and extort money from them.”

“We’ve tried to catch them in the act,” he replied, “but without much success. There’s so much crime and so few of us who try to prevent it.”

“You do a great job,” she told him.