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City Hall. Billy Penn’s wearing a Santa hat. You should see it.”

      “That’s sacrilege—on all counts—and he is not.”

      “How do you know? You haven’t looked As for the first part, yes, I am. Going to marry you, that is. Would you like me to go down on one knee? I mean, I’m game if you are.”

      She didn’t move. She also didn’t look away from him. He imagined she had learned every inch of him and committed it all to memory.

      “I saw Sam trying to avoid me. I’ll assume you’re related to him.”

      Court took a single step forward, not quite invading her space, but close enough to smell her perfume. “His cousin. And you’re Jolie’s sister. Consider us destined, if you want. You. Me. This time. This place. Not Harvey, though.” He lost his smile. Whatever works for you, Jade Sunshine.”

      Something moved through her magnificent sherry-colored eyes. A decision made? A bridge crossed?

      Her voice took on a new huskiness. Low and intimate. “This isn’t a good idea, Court Becket.”

      “I’ve had worse.”

      “Nothing’s going to happen, you know.”

      “You don’t believe that any more than I do,” he said, holding out his arm to her.

      She slipped her arm through his. “You saw me take Harvey down.”

      “I’ll consider myself warned,” Court said before they walked out of the bar in silence, toward the last elevator on the right side of the lobby, the one that served only the penthouse.

      The first hairpin dropped to the carpeted floor of the elevator almost before the doors had whispered shut….

       SUNDAY, 11:42 P.M.

      “WHAT’S WRONG? Court? Court blinked, then rubbed his eyes. “Excuse me?”

      “You… I think you groaned,” Jade said, looking at him. “Is it something in that file?”

      “No,” he said, looking adorably confused, or at least as confused as an intelligent man could look. “I was just…my mind was wandering, that’s all. Sorry.”

      “And you tell me I need sleep?” Jade took the file that was still closed on his lap and frowned at it. “This is the Vanishing Bride case. It’s already solved.”

      “Really? I guess I didn’t notice.”

      Jade looked at him again, and she was surprised she could resist putting a hand to his brow to check him for a fever. “You’ve been sitting here for nearly forty-five minutes looking at a solved case?” She put the file on the coffee table and stood up. “Come on, let’s go.”

      Court got to his feet. “To bed? Would it be too tacky to say that your wish is my command?”

      “Yes, and we’re not going to bed. You’re coming to the kitchen with me. I think you need food.”

      “Sustenance of some sort would probably be helpful, yes,” he said as she led the way into the large kitchen. “What are you going to cook for me?”

      “Cook for you? Are you crazy? It’s nearly midnight,” Jade said, her head half inside the large refrigerator. “You’ll get whatever I can find in here and like it.” She heard her own words and bit her lips together, turned to look at him. “Sorry. I just had a flashback, I think. Suddenly you were Jess or Jolie, demanding to be fed long after I’d cleaned up the kitchen for the night. I had to keep reminding them that I wasn’t their servant.”

      “Did it work?” Court had sat himself on one of the stools at the large granite island.

      “Not in my memory, no,” Jade said, making a face. “They always asked, and I always gave in. For one, Jolie was too skinny, anyway. And Jess? She’d just look at me with those big puppy dog eyes, and I’d melt.”

      “You’re their sister. You sound like their mother. Where was your childhood, Jade?”

      She turned back to the refrigerator. “PB and J on white bread,” she said, avoiding his question. “Take it or leave it.”

      “I’ll take it. And I’m sorry if I’m opening an old wound here. But you never talk about what it was like for you after your mother left. I spoke with Jessica about it the other day, and she had what she called a small epiphany. It’s her conclusion now—besides the notion that your parents never should have married in the first place—that she and Jolie were spoiled brats and that you got a raw deal. I’m betting you don’t feel that way.”

      “Don’t count on it. There were times I hated them all, even as I played Frankenstein to their monsters.” Jade opened cabinet doors until she found the jar of peanut butter and set about making them each a sandwich. “Looking back from where I am now, I’d say that I played the cards I was dealt the best I knew how at the time, that we all did. Pretend I’m a teenager again, however, and that changes. At times I felt like running away and leaving them to realize how they’d be lost without me—but that would make me just like our mother, so it wasn’t an option.”

      “Much better to emulate your father? Did you ever wish you’d been born a son, instead of a daughter?”

      “I’ll ignore that.”

      “That’s probably good. Go on.”

      “I will, since you started this. At other times, I liked being the one in charge of everything and wouldn’t have it any other way. And I was in charge, Court, at least in the beginning. Teddy… poor Teddy just fell apart when he finally understood that our mother wasn’t coming back this time. I had to stick close.”

      “Our mother? As in, to all four of you? You know, to an outsider, it could almost look as if you raised all three of them, Teddy included. But eventually Jolie and Jessica went to college, and Teddy managed to get his act back together. And yet still you stayed home.”

      “So? I have an associates degree and my PI license,” Jade said, knowing she sounded defensive. Which was probably because she felt defensive. “I wanted to work with Teddy, so I didn’t need anything else. Jess and Jolie did.” She slid one of the plates across the granite. “Here. Eat.”

      “So you didn’t have any idea of what to do differently with your life once the others were established? You always wanted to work with Teddy?”

      “Who said I wanted to work with… What is this, Court? An interrogation? Exactly what was Jess saying to you when you two had your little talk? And for the record, I don’t appreciate being the topic of conversations going on behind my back.”

      “I’m sensing that, yes. Good sandwich, but it’s missing something.” Court walked around the island to take a carton of milk from the refrigerator. He poured a glass for each of them and placed one in front of Jade before returning to the other side of the island. “Nothing better than ice-cold milk with your PB and J. Drink up, and as long as you’re angry with me, anyway, let’s do a hypothetical, all right?”

      “I don’t deal in hypotheticals,” Jade told him nervously. “I deal in facts, evidence.”

      “Tell that to someone who isn’t working these cases with you,” Court told her as he put down his glass. “We’re working with about forty percent hypothetical, and another forty percent hunch. Leaving not a lot of room for facts, if you’re adding up numbers on your fingers.”

      “You have a milk mustache,” Jade told him, wishing he’d leave her alone. Leave her alone, or take her in his arms and run off with her, the way she’d sometimes wanted to run away from all her teenage responsibility. “All right. A hypothetical. One, and then it’s back to the files.”

      Court wiped his mouth carefully, as if mentally forming his question, the single one she’d allowed him. “All right,” he said, putting down the napkin,

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