“Kayleigh’s. We’re going to surprise her.”

“That’ll be fun.”

Suellyn hoped so. Bishop had been adamant that Suellyn not call Kayleigh and tell her of the visit—because the younger of the sisters would probably have told her not to come. She wouldn’t want any sympathy because of Bobby’s death, Bishop said. But family had to stick together.

Father knows best … Uh-huh.

“Kayleigh’s got a great swimming pool,” Ritchie said to Mary-Gordon. “You going to go swimming?”

“I have two suits so one can dry and I can still swim in the other.”

“Isn’t that smart?” Bishop’s associate said. “What kind of suits are they? Hello Kitty?”

Mary-Gordon wrinkled her nose. “I’m too old for Hello Kitty and SpongeBob. One has flowers on it and the other is plain blue. I can swim without floaties.”

They stepped outside and the heat was as fierce as promised.

He turned around and glanced down at the girl with a smile. “You know, you’re cute as a button.”

Mary-Gordon asked, “What does that mean?”

The young man looked at Suellyn and they both laughed. He said, “I don’t have any idea.”

They waited for traffic then crossed into the lot. He whispered, “It’s good you’re here. Kayleigh’s pretty upset about Bobby.”

“I can imagine. Do they know what happened?”

“Not yet. It’s been terrible for everybody.” He lifted his voice and said to Mary-Gordon, “Hey, before we go to your aunt’s, you want to see something fun?”

“Yeah!”

“It’s really neat and you’ll like it.” He glanced at Suellyn. “Little detour? There’s this park practically on the way.”

“Please, Mommy!”

“All right. But we don’t want to be too late, Ritchie.”

He blinked. “Oh, I’m not Ritchie. I came to fetch you instead.” They arrived at his car. He took the suitcases and her computer bag and stashed them in the trunk of the big old Buick. It was bright red—a color you didn’t see much nowadays.

Chapter 24

AT KAYLEIGH’S HOUSE Kathryn Dance was talking to Darthur Morgan, who was holding but, being on duty, not reading, one of his old books.

“You’ve got an unusual name,” she said.

“Means ‘morning’ in German. Spelled different.” The huge man’s still face didn’t break character.

“That’s funny,” Dance told him. She’d been referring to his given name.

“Used it before.”

They were sitting in the living room, all the shades drawn, while Kayleigh was upstairs, changing clothes, as if being in the place where Bobby Prescott had died had somehow tainted what she’d worn.

The security man continued, “You know people think, being black, I was named Darthur because my parents didn’t know how to spell Arthur, or got confused. You hear that sometimes.”

“You do, true.”

“Fact is, they were both teachers and they like the classics.” He lifted his leather-bound book. Dickens. He added, “Malory’s Morte d’Arthur was one of their favorites.”

“The King Arthur stories.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Not a lot of cops know that. But then, you’re not just a cop.”