LITMIR.BIZ

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She wrenched her hand free. Didn’t he realize how dashing he was? Intelligent, steadying, comforting, desirable? “You look at me as an innocent. You even call me child.”

      He withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket and coughed into the fabric. It was something he did frequently, a delaying tactic. “You are a good twenty years my junior, Lucy.”

      He did not call her Lucinda. That was for later, when she embodied all that Lucinda Glass was destined to be. “I do not care if you are forty or even older.” Her kinfolk married at thirteen or fourteen, the girls sometimes hitching themselves to men past their prime. Some spent less time with their future husbands before taking their bands than she’d spent with Simon. “We can share more than a roof and name. We can be man and wife. Have a life together. Share a bed.”

      He looked away. “We are late starting your lessons today.”

      Damn him.

      Standing, she tossed her napkin on the table. “When you are ready to consider marriage, I will be ready to consider my lessons.”

      * * * *

      Present Day

      Collin Hode strode into the Hode’s Hill Police Department and made a beeline for David Gregg’s desk. Proper protocol meant he should have been announced, but the desk clerk had taken one look at his face and let him pass. Gregg and the others had seen him enough times over the past few weeks to know he wasn’t there to cause problems. DeLuca and Kovack had both pushed his boundaries, but he’d kept to diplomatic channels, letting the police intervene where necessary. DeLuca had been removed from Hode Development grounds more than once, even fined for trespassing, but the guy kept coming back, pushing his luck.

      Enough was enough. After the attack on his father, Collin wanted answers.

      David Gregg looked up from typing something into his computer, his mouth set in a flat line. He immediately clicked a button on his keyboard, dimming the information on the screen.

      “No news.” Gregg’s reply was short, a sign he didn’t appreciate the interruption. He was probably as sick of seeing Collin as Collin was of being there.

      The hell with that. Collin plunked down in the nearest chair. “I just came from the hospital.”

      That earned an interested glance. “How’s your father?”

      “No change.” Collin looked around the room, noting two plainclothes detectives engrossed in computer work. A uniformed officer stood near the entrance of a short hallway, talking to a file clerk. Why weren’t they out on the street tracking down the attacker of Leland Hode? “The doctor says it’s nothing critical, mostly shock.” He and his mother could be thankful for that. “My father was fortunate and should regain consciousness soon.”

      “We’ll want to talk to him when he does.”

      “I’m aware of that.” Collin rubbed the back of his neck, pressing on a knot of tension rooted at the base. Since the attack, he’d spent most of his time at the hospital, interceding between his mother, doctors, and the nursing staff. Typical of Althea Hode, she’d spent the hours dissolving into tears or barking commands at anyone who came within earshot. The woman lived for drama, a habit that put Collin in the position of constantly smoothing ruffled feathers.

      He’d spent the night quaffing black coffee and downing Excedrin. Somewhere around six in the morning, having expended her supply of tears and theatrics, his mother had asked him to drive her home so she could get some sleep. He’d yet to grab any himself and was certain the long night showed on his face. “What did the girl say? The witness?”

      Gregg exhaled as if he’d expected the question. “You’ve heard the rumors, haven’t you? The Fiend’s back in Hode’s Hill.”

      A stalling tactic. “You don’t believe that.”

      “No. But the girl who witnessed what happened…the way she gave her report…”

      “Someone in a cape and mask.” Collin leaned forward, resting his elbow on the edge of Gregg’s desk. A folder on the corner caught his eye. The name HODE was stamped on the tab in block letters. “I’d like her name. I’d like to talk to her.”

      “We don’t give out the names of witnesses.” Gregg’s tone was stiff. “Even to someone named Hode.”

      Collin fought the urge to scowl. He nodded toward the folder. “Is her name in there? Her statement?” Within fingers’ reach. “All you have to do is get a cup of coffee and give me a few minutes alone.”

      Gregg snorted. “I’m going to forget you said that.”

      “Look, I need something. If it’s not DeLuca or Kovack—” He stopped abruptly as a new thought slipped into place. “Have you talked to them?”

      “No need. I’ve got an eyewitness who provided a physical description that doesn’t match either DeLuca or Kovack.” Gregg started to turn to his computer, then hesitated. “If you want to find your father’s attacker, figure out what he was doing in that alley in the first place.”

      “I told you before. He’d been working late.” Collin had answered as many questions as he could, but the alley remained a blank. When he’d left the Fiend Festival following DeLuca’s rant, he’d dropped by Hode Development expecting to find his father. Leland’s office had been empty despite an earlier assertion he’d be there most of the night. He’d been preoccupied lately, secretive at times, something Collin hadn’t shared with the Hode’s Hill PD.

      Three days ago, Collin had wandered into his father’s den at Amethyst Hall in time to catch the tail end of his phone conversation. Leland had been in the process of berating the caller, demanding the person never contact him at home. When he’d realized Collin had overheard, he’d exploded and thrown him out of the room.

      His father’s den had never been taboo before. The outburst raised suspicions of something shady—an illicit business deal? Bribery? An affair? The last thought made Collin’s gut clench. His mother was a difficult woman, but she was still his mother.

      The tension in his neck leeched across his shoulders. If only he could see the name in that damn file, talk to the witness, he might be able to pick up something Gregg had missed. If it took calling the mayor or the police chief to get what he wanted, he was prepared to go the extra mile. Ready to launch into a heated tirade, he abruptly realized it wasn’t necessary.

      During their conversation, David Gregg had inadvertently brushed against his keyboard, making the information on his computer screen visible. The detective was turned away from the monitor, but Collin could see it clearly. Gregg had been working on his father’s case, the name of the witness spelled out clearly in twelve-point text.

      MAYA SINCLAIR.

      * * * *

      Maya stepped outside shortly before Ivy was due to pick her up for the Fiend Festival. She’d been cooped up most of the day, sorting through boxes, and looked forward to a few minutes of fresh air. As she walked down the steps to the sidewalk, a white van stopped in front of her brownstone. An orange triangle framed in black decorated the side, bold script proclaiming TV-42, Your source for up to the minute news! Within seconds, a woman in a fitted navy skirt and pinstriped blouse slid from the passenger’s side.

      “Ms. Sinclair? Maya Sinclair?” She hurried toward Maya.

      Maya hesitated at the bottom of the steps. “Yes?”

      “I’m Christy Catterman.” The woman beamed a smile and held out her hand. “I’m with Channel 42 News. Are you familiar with us?”

      A red flag of warning sprang awake in Maya’s mind. She’d thought the woman looked familiar. “Yes.” A note of reservation slipped into her voice as she shook the reporter’s hand.

      “I understand you were the one who found Leland Hode last night.”

      “I…” Maya shifted her attention from Christy

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