Vivi heard Marty stop talking but she was still several beats behind. Because now she was thinking about how she would have felt if she'd not only lost Stone but had allowed him to die without ever knowing he'd fathered their child. Her hand stole to her stomach as it often seemed to now of its own accord. At just over six months, her stomach was well on its way to the watermelon stage, already football shaped and surprisingly firm. The baby seemed to have a trampoline in there with it; right now, with all her juices stirred up, the acrobatics felt of the extreme variety.

"Are you there, Vivi?" She could tell by Marty's tone that she hadn't responded again when it was her turn to speak.

"Yes, sorry. I should be used to this by now, but I've been so worried."

"I know. It's some scary s.h.i.t," Marty agreed. "A darkened parking garage is about as far out on the line as I'm prepared to go."

Vivien would have liked to acknowledge the joke, but her sense of humor had deserted her completely when those first confused reports had started to filter out of Afghanistan.

"Stone's worried, too. But not about himself."

This time Vivien's lack of response was intentional.

"He wants me to come check on you. He's convinced something's wrong."

This time Marty waited her out; she'd forgotten that he was almost as good at that as she was. "Well, he's wrong. I'm fine. Couldn't be better. You are not my mother, and you don't need to check on me."

"How is Caroline?" he asked now, and she offered up a little prayer of thanks that he hadn't already spoken to her. "Maybe I should give her a call and make sure that's true."

Vivien gritted her teeth. That was all she needed, Caroline having an audience to pour out her disappointment in Vivien to. Not to mention her pregnancy. "I'm not speaking to my mother at the moment." If she started trying to prevent Marty from making contact it would be the first thing he'd do; just as she would if their positions were reversed. "But feel free to give her a call. I'm sure she'd love to have someone to complain about me to."

There was a pause. "Seriously, Vivi. You know you can call me anytime if you want to talk or need anything." His voice sort of trailed off in embarra.s.sment, but Vivi was touched by his sincerity.

"Thanks, Marty. I know and I appreciate that. I'm going to have to go, but before I do I'd like to hear one story about Regina Matthews looking bad."

"Hmmmmm, I don't know," he teased. "She's looking awfully good. Do you want me to make one up?"

"I'll get back to you on that," she said and as they said good-bye she was surprised to realize she was nowhere near as upset about Regina Matthew's competence as she should have been.

This time when she got through to Stone's voice mail she couldn't hide how worried she'd been. "I'm so sorry about Deke and Jonathan." She hesitated, trying to get her emotions under control, but her voice broke midsentence and she couldn't seem to stop the waver in it. "I know it's selfish, but I've been thanking G.o.d it wasn't you." She paused, swallowed. "I'm counting on you to come back to me," she said. "I won't accept anything else."

A few mornings later Vivien dallied over her morning tea in her robe and slippers waiting for Melanie to leave for the Magnolia Ballroom, where she was slated to begin teaching the new cardio/salsa exercise cla.s.s she'd added to the weekday schedule.

"What are you doing today?" Melanie asked as she searched the counter first for her keys and then once she'd located them, for her cell phone.

"Nothing much. Maybe a few errands. Do you mind if I take the RAV?" She yawned as if it didn't matter either way.

"Of course not." Melanie finally found the phone in the pocket of her jacket. "Any special requests for dinner?"

"No. But I'll take care of it."

"You?" Melanie stopped in her tracks. "You're going to cook?" She didn't look as happy about that as someone who'd been carrying the load single-handedly at meal-time might.

"I can't guarantee cooking," Vivi said. "But I can guarantee food. And if you need me to handle kid pickup or anything, just call me on my cell."

"Wow," Melanie said. "You mean I just come home and walk in the door and food will be on the table?" The note of wonder in her voice made Vivien realize that she should have offered this long ago.

"That's the plan," she said.

"Wow," Melanie said again as she walked out the kitchen door to the minivan. A large smile was spread across her face.

As the garage door closed behind her sister, Vivien banished her guilt over her deception. Torn between going through J.J.'s phone and credit card bills and getting dressed for her appointment with Grady Hollis, who'd been the president of Sigma Sigma Fraternity when Clay and J.J were at Georgia, she chose a shower and makeup.

Dressed in the most businesslike of her maternity clothes, she made her way downstairs and out to the car, telling herself that if her suspicions about Clay playing some sort of role in or hiding information about J.J.'s death proved true, there'd be nothing to apologize for. If she was wrong, Melanie need never know she'd asked the first question.

By the time she turned south on Highway 400 for the drive to Macon, the morning rush was over. An hour and forty-five minutes later, after only a few wrong turns, she found the law office of Hollis & Hollis in downtown Macon. A receptionist invited her to take a seat, and she'd barely sunk into the cracked leather-backed chair she was shown to when Grady Hollis came out to greet her. The attorney had the bulk of a former athlete who'd run up against the wall of middle age, a receding hairline, and an easy smile. "Good ole boy" could have been stamped in gilt letters on his gleaming forehead just as surely as Hollis & Hollis was stenciled on the front door.

His handshake was firm but not bone crushing and as she followed him back to his office he chatted amiably, though she could feel his curiosity simmering just beneath his jovial surface.

"So you're Melanie's sister? I sure can see the resemblance," he said. "In fact, when I first saw that video on YouTube I thought . . ." His voice trailed off as he realized what he'd said.

"That's all right," Vivi said. "I don't think there's a man, woman, or child in this country who didn't see me take that bullet. It wasn't exactly my proudest moment."

He laughed. "I get that," he said, looking her up and down. "I didn't realize from the video that you were pregnant. I guess it's actually a lucky thing that bullet hit you where it did."

Vivien realized with a start how right he was. Her first thought was always of the embarra.s.sment that went along with the shooting. She hadn't really stopped and thought what might have happened to the baby she hadn't known she was carrying, if the bullet had entered from the front. "Good point. I'll have to remember that next time I'm feeling like a moron for being caught in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Sitting back in his chair, he steepled his beefy hands in his lap and asked, "So how are Melanie and the kids? I haven't seen them since the funeral."

"They're doing as well as can be expected," Vivi said. "It takes a while to bounce back from a loss like that. And, of course, it was so unexpected," she said, making it both a statement and a question.

"Yeah. I couldn't believe it when I heard," Grady said. "J.J. was practically born with a rifle in his hands. He grew up hunting with his uncles." Grady shook his head. "Terrible thing all round."

Vivien nodded her agreement, then allowed a bit of silence in hope that Grady would fill it, but the attorney just looked at her expectantly.

"As I mentioned on the phone, I'm doing a small doc.u.mentary on up-and-coming politicians cut down in their prime," she said, sticking to a cover story similar to the one she'd used on Professor Sturgess. "It's going to be dedicated to J.J." She noticed that her lies were getting more outrageous, but Grady nodded approval.

"I wondered if you could tell me about J.J. in college. You know, your perspective as the president of his fraternity."

Grady nodded again and sat a little straighter in his chair. "Well," he began, "J.J. was a real cla.s.sy guy and really motivated. h.e.l.l, he knew he wanted a career in politics before the rest of us had the first idea what we wanted to be when we grew up. Well, I mean I knew I was expected to go into law like my daddy, but I can't say I was particularly pa.s.sionate about it, you know?"

"I spoke with one of J.J's professors, who said the same thing."

"Yeah, the rest of us would be sitting around the dining room talking trash to each other or going on about girls and who got lucky. J.J.'d be talking about the electoral college and the importance of being involved in the political process." He shook his head. "It was like a religion to him. I mean he lived and breathed that stuff."

"Clay Alexander was really into all that, too, wasn't he?"

A tiny flicker of discomfort registered in Grady Hollis's eyes. "Yeah," he said.

Vivien waited for more, but that was it.

"He and Clay pledged Sigma Sigma at the same time, didn't they?"

Grady nodded, but she could feel him treading carefully, like he'd shown up for a beach party and all of the sudden noticed that the sand was strewn with mine-fields.

"They were good friends, right?" Vivi tried again. "Clay ran J.J.'s winning campaign for student council president?"

His earlier expansiveness had all but disappeared at the mention of Clay Alexander. "Yes, they were real tight," he finally said. "And Clay did run that campaign." He paused for a moment and she had the sense of a rat looking for a way off a sinking ship. "It was a real feather in Sigma's cap to have a brother as president." He drew a breath and perked up a bit, apparently thinking he'd sniffed out an escape route. "Yep, J.J.'s win made us real visible. I remember one time . . ."

His relief at finding a way off the topic she'd introduced was palpable, but Vivien wasn't having it. "They had some sort of falling-out, didn't they?" Vivien prodded. "I understand Clay dropped out of Sigma Sigma over it."

"Yes," Grady admitted, not looking at all happy about it. "It was our senior year," he said. "Not too long after J.J. took office their friendship was just . . . over." He looked pointedly down at his watch, and she knew she was running out of time to get the answers she'd come for.

"That seems odd, doesn't it?" Vivi asked as nonchalantly as she could. "I mean why would J.J. get rid of the person responsible for helping him get elected?"

"Well, I don't know that it was actually a question of J.J. getting rid of Clay," he said, and she could feel how carefully he was considering his words. As if she were a judge or jury that he had to tiptoe around.

"So you're saying Clay left of his own free will?" Vivien pondered that for a minute, trying to understand. "That seems even odder. That Clay would have gone to all that effort to get J.J. elected and then just . . . bow out." She looked up, making eye contact and holding his gaze. "Wouldn't he have wanted to be involved in the administration? Or reaped some sort of benefit from what he'd helped make happen?"

For such a big man, Grady Hollis was looking mighty small. But Vivi didn't care how tiny he got; she was not leaving without . . . something. "There must have been some reason why he would disa.s.sociate himself from the best friend whom he'd helped get elected." She held his gaze, refusing to let go. "And I have a feeling you know what that reason was."

For a moment she was afraid that he'd wiggle out of answering, that somehow he'd be able to get a signal to his secretary to buzz him or some such thing. But a bead of sweat popped out on his already shiny forehead. "You can make it off the record, if you'd like." This was an easy promise, since there was no actual record to go on.

He blinked and finally spoke. "Well, it's a little strange saying this to Melanie's sister, but everyone always speculated that there was some kind of . . . triangle going on."

Vivien's surprise must have shown on her face because he quickly added, "No, I don't mean like something kinky s.e.xual or anything. A lot of the guys just thought that J.J. wasn't the only one interested in Melanie."

He paused, and Vivien felt a small glimmer of excitement at having corroboration of at least part of her theory.

"Clay and J.J.'s friendship revolved around this ongoing . . . compet.i.tion. Everything from who bagged the biggest deer to their grades to how many votes they got in an election. I kind of thought maybe they tussled over Melanie and Clay got p.i.s.sed off that he lost. Or maybe he just got tired of always coming in second."

Wasn't this what she'd been thinking all along? That Clay coveted J.J.'s life and was secretly in love with Melanie? If he'd been feeling that way since college, which was some twenty-odd years ago, could the day have come when he just had to do something about it? Had Clay Alexander's frustration and jealousy somehow led to J.J.'s death?

"That's interesting," she said, careful not to look shocked or judgmental, two reactions guaranteed to shut an interview subject down. "But if that's true and Clay's jealousy, or whatever we want to call it, led him to break off the friendship and leave the fraternity and all, why would he come to Atlanta to be J.J.'s campaign manager? And why would J.J. want him to?"

"That," Grady said as he looked pointedly this time at his watch, signaling that the interview was over, "is a very good question." And one, Vivien discovered as he summarily ended their appointment, Grady Hollis was either unwilling or unable to answer.

On the way back to Atlanta, Vivi picked up a voice mail from Matt Glazer, who apparently didn't yet realize that he was the last person in the universe she intended to take a call from. "Hi, Vivi." His tone was friendly, conversational as if he had not exposed her to public humiliation and ridicule in print on Christmas Day. "Just wanted you to know how glad I was to hear it wasn't Stone who went missing." There was a pause and then, "You are still seeing Stone, aren't you? I'm a.s.suming he's the father of your child?"

There was a small laugh. "I really wish you'd call and verify that. Along with a few other things. You seem to think I'm not a serious journalist," the message went on.

"But I can sniff out a story as well as the next reporter, and you have become really interesting to me."

Vivien gritted her teeth through his next exaggerated pause. He ended his message with, "Your parents seem to understand my influence as well as the size and makeup of my readership." A smile came into his voice. "They've invited me to a small, intimate gathering at their home. Maybe we can catch up with each other there. Or you could go ahead and give me a call now."

Vivien was tempted to call him back and tell him she'd see him in h.e.l.l before she'd see him at Magnolia Hall, but she managed to restrain herself. She didn't like the idea of him all pumped up about investigating her, but she disliked the idea of sucking up to him as her parents had even more.

For now she'd just try to stay out of his way. If she was lucky, he'd find someone else to torture. Or some social climbers who would be thrilled to see their names in his column.

27.

BY THE MIDDLE of January, Vivien could no longer remember when Wednesday night didn't mean the Magnolia Ballroom and belly dance. Though she didn't intend to admit it, she actually looked forward to the hour with Naranya and crew. Afterward she and Ruth and Angela might linger with Melanie until it was time to close up the studio; other times they came early and sipped soft drinks in the kitchen while they dished about whatever was on their minds. She and Ruth weren't exactly BFFs, but they kept the sniping to a minimum.

Of course, there were things she simply couldn't do, given her rapidly expanding stomach and ever-changing center of gravity, but Dr. Gilbert had approved belly dancing as a low-impact form of exercise that could help make her labor easier. Vivi intended to keep at it even after the chiffon hip scarf could no longer be tied.

Tonight they'd brought Trip with them and handed him over to James Wesley in the parking lot for their "guys' night out." Angela's fiance was every bit as good-looking as his famous father, and he had a low-key charm that set everyone at ease. The looks he shot Angela were adoring; those she sent in return were tinged with an odd sort of hesitancy that the reporter in Vivi wanted to understand.

"Thanks so much for setting this up," Melanie said to Angela as James and Trip drove off. "He rushed home from school to do his homework so he'd be free to go. I haven't seen him this excited about anything for a long time."

"I'm glad someone who wanted to be there got to go," Angela said. "I'm sure they'll all have a blast."

Inside, they fell into a jagged line with Sally, Lourdes, and the Shipley sisters, who were still trading stories about the holidays. Three newbies, here for a free trial cla.s.s, spread out behind them. Naranya's golden skin was still burnished from her cruise, and her dark hair cascaded down her back. Smiling, she started the music and waited for them to tie on their hip scarves.

"All right, everyone," she said when their eyes were on her. "We begin with the stretching. You old-timers you know what to do. I weel move to the back so the new ones can see me."

They completed the stretches in near silence and then began the series of isolation exercises. Groans and giggles arose from behind them, and Vivi remembered just how foreign these moves had once seemed.

"You must be so relieved Stone's all right," Angela said to Vivien as Naranya moved back up front and began to move her hips. "I don't know how you live with that constant worry."

Melanie and Ruth pulled closer so they could hear; the days of concentrated silence during cla.s.s had ended long ago.

"I kind of feel like Ira and I are caught in a war zone," Ruth said, her arms out, her hips thrusting in a carefully controlled motion. "n.o.body's shooting, but n.o.body's laid down their weapon, either."

Melanie moved her hips in a smooth figure eight that none of the rest of them came close to matching. Her upper body remained perfectly still. "I was sort of hoping our talk on New Year's might have gotten through to him."

Beside Vivien, Angela made her hip thrusts smaller, then sped them up until she was doing a respectable shimmy. She, too, kept her head and upper body admirably still. All of Vivien's parts tended to want to move in unison.

"Hey, that looks good," Ruth said, stepping her own movements up trying to match Angela's pace. "Ira did say he'd come to the lesson and practice party this Sat.u.r.day night, so I guess that's something."

"Of course, that's something," Melanie said, kicking her trim hips up into a shimmy. Vivi attempted a much gentler version, careful not to disturb the baby.

"James and I are in, too," Angela said, still shimmying. "That means Vivi has to come." She looked over her shoulder and down at her behind. "Oh, my G.o.d, my b.u.t.tocks are shaking!"

"They're supposed to shake," Ruth said. "That's the whole point."

"Not when you've exercised your guts out to get rid of anything that resembles Jell-O!" Angela sneaked another look. "Can you see it jiggling?"

Vivien, who was closest, aimed her gaze at Angela's rear end. "Well, it's kind of hard to tell through all that black fabric you're wearing. Seriously, Angela, what are you trying to hide in there?"

"Vivi," Melanie gave her a warning look.

"If there'll be any single men, we'll come," Di said as both she and Dee began to shimmy. The sight of the six of them vibrating with such determination made Vivi smile.

Naranya scurried back to the front and clapped her hands in delight. "Good! Good!" she shouted. "You see that," she gestured to the new students. "Soon you will shimmy, too!"

"I may need you Sat.u.r.day night, Vivi," Melanie said as the music slowed and the shimmying came to a halt. "I always try to keep the number of females to males as even as possible."

"Mel, I've done way better at belly dancing than either of us ever expected," Vivi began. "But it's different with a partner. I think we should leave well enough alone."

Naranya raised her arms above her head and brought her fingertips together to form a triangle. "Now we use our neck to touch our left ear to the inside of our left elbow-don't bend your head to your shoulder!" She demonstrated the highly controlled neck movement and waited for them to follow. "Only the neck moves."

"Oh, G.o.d, I never can keep my head from going along," Vivien groaned. "If body parts weren't meant to move together, they wouldn't be so . . . attached."