She felt a deeply buried pain struggle to take hold and fought it down.

"What about Monk's ex-wife?" she asked, shifting her gaze to a sailboattacking into the wind in the mid-lake channel.

"The poor woman's terrified. She only agreed to talk to me off the record andeven then, she only hinted that she suspected Monk."

"What about the similarities? Both babies left in his care while the mothers were gone. Both dead when the mothers returned."

"Without hard evidence, even a lousy defense attorney could make a case forcoincidence."

Riaworried her lower lip and let her eyes go out of focus. "Somehow we haveto get Brenda to testify." She was stating the obvious, but it helped cementthings in her mind.

"Agreed. Any idea how to make that happen?"

"One of us will have to convince her."

"Right. Problem is, she seems to have disappeared. I've been by her place three times in the same number of days, and none of her neighbors have seenher. Her car's not in its s.p.a.ce either."

"What about Monk?"

"His employer claims he's hauling liquid fertilizer to California. Won't beback for three days. I thought maybe he'd taken the wife with him, but thedispatcher swears it's against company policy."

"What about Brenda's family?"

"A mother and stepfather in Richmond. Claim they haven't seen her since sheleft the morning of her sixteenth birthday."

Riaworried her lip some more before admitting, "I should have tried harder toreach her when she didn't return my call, but I was so caught up in my own stuff that I let it slide."

"Understandable, sugar." His voice lightened. "So how's my nephew adjusting?"

"Better, thank goodness. At least he calls me Mom now, and sometimes hesounds as though he means it. Last night, when I went in to check on him, hehad Trouble tucked under one arm and his old Pooh bear under the other. I think he's starting to remember things, too."

"That's good, right?"

"According to the therapist Grady talked to in California, yes."

"Then I'll hold a positive thought."

"Thanks."

"For family, anything, sugar." He cleared his throat. "What about Jimbo's mom and dad? Are you and my brother still snarling and snapping at each other liketwo puppies in a sack? Or have you finally admitted you belong together?"

Riawatched Grady line up his ball. She had to admit the man had the best set of buns she'd ever seen. Tight and hard, with just enough curve to fill outthe seat of his hacked-off Wranglers. He was also patient to a fault,unfailingly polite and a tireless lover. If given a thousand chances to findthe one man who fit her girlhood dream of Prince Charming, she would stillchoose him. So why couldn't she make herself love him again?

"That's three questions," she said when she realized she was listening tostatic in her ear. "Which do you want me to answer?"

"Your call, sugar. I'm easy." It was apparent to her now that Grady wasn'tthe only Hardin willing to indulge her. It both touched and annoyed her.

"We're not snapping. There's not a chance under the sun that your brothercould be mistaken for a puppy. As for belonging together, neither of us wantsto make another mistake."

She gazed out at the two males with identical swaggers walking toward her.Both her men needed haircuts. Grady's was almost long enough to make a tinytail. Definitely nonregulation.

"You still talking to my brother?" Grady asked before plucking the gla.s.s fromher hand.

"Yes, why?"

"Need to have a few words with him when you're done." He drained what wasleft of her tea in two swallows before setting the gla.s.s on the patio railingwith a hard thump.

"We're done," she told him before adding for Flynn's benefit, "I'll keeptrying Brenda's number. If I leave enough messages on her machine, she mightget tired of hearing my voice and call me back."

"Good plan. In the meantime I'll run by her place on my way home tonight. Imight just get lucky."

"Thanks," she said before handing Grady the phone.

While Grady ambled toward the house, his voice too low to be overheard,Riawatched an aluminum fishing boat easing around the point. Seated in the rea.r.s.eat, with one hand on the outboard motor was the same determined fisherman incamouflage vest and orange cap she'd seen fishing the point before, two orthree days in a row at least. He was certainly patient, trolling back andforth parallel to the sh.o.r.eline, staying just at the edge of the channel aboutfifty feet from the beach.

The second time he'd appeared, Grady had checked him out, swimming out tohang on to the boat with one hand while they'd spoken. Her fears had subsidedwhen he'd returned to a.s.sure her that the guy was a mechanic from Indianapolisvisiting his sister who lived across the lake.

"Guess what, Mom? Grady said he heard from the lady at the marina that a guyfishing the dam hooked Old Whiskerface but he snapped the line."

She flipped up the bill of the SWAT cap he'd appropriated as his own. "Do Isense a heavy-duty fishing expedition forming here?"

His eyes shone as he dug into the bag of chips he'd left by her chair. "Gradyhas a neat idea for bait."

"He does?"

He crunched chips, spraying bits as he rushed on. "You know that macaronigunk you made for lunch?"

She huffed. "Watch it, buster," she protested, her expression fierce. "I'llhave you know there are people who wouldkill for the recipe for my pastasalad."

He went white, his hand frozen halfway into the bag. "I didn't mean it," hesaid quickly, his voice thin, his gaze darting and nervous. "Don't be mad,okay? I won't say it again, I promise."

Ria'sstomach clutched. "Oh, baby, I was just teasing," she said quickly. "You can call everything I cook gunk and it wouldn't bother me."

"But you said ... I don't want to get killed."

Oh, G.o.d. Oh, my G.o.d.

"Sweetie, I love you. Your daddy loves you. People who love each other sometimes say the wrong thing. They even hurt each other sometimes, butbecause they love each other, they forgive each other, too."

"They do?"

"Oh, yes." Though she wanted to wrap herself around him and hug him close,she kept her hands curled loosely around the chair arms.

"So it's okay if we use your, uh, pasta salad? Well, not all of it. Just theparts that look like bow ties."

"Of course."

He cheered, then grabbed the bag and headed for the door. "Did you hear,Grady? Mom said we could use those yucky bow tie things for bait."

Riatwisted around to find Grady standing at the edge of the patio, watchingher. "Great," he said, his hand on the boy's shoulder, but his gaze wasfastened on her face.

"I'm gonna pick out some really smelly ones right now, okay? So we'll beready to shove off as soon as the sun sets."

Without waiting for permission, he slipped from his dad's grasp and wentinside, slamming the screen door behind him.

Only then did she exhale the breath she'd been holding. "How much did youhear?" she asked quietly.

"Enough to fill in too many blanks about the people he's been living with."

She nodded, her insides shaking. "It seems like every time I open my mouth Isay the wrong thing."

"Sounds to me like you said exactly the right thing."

"About the pasta?"

"About loving someone enough to forgive." His mouth slanted just enough to push a shallow crease into his hard cheek. "It's a h.e.l.l of a thought."

He saluted her with a quick grin before following their son into the house.

Stevie tucked his tongue between his teeth and pulled on the rope real steadylike, one hand over the other the way Grady had taught him. Above his head,the flag snapped in the wind.

It was his job to run the flag up the pole at the edge of the water everymorning and take it down every night when the sun went behind the trees on theother side of the lake. After the first time, when Grady showed him how tofasten the clip things through the metal holes, he'd done it all by himself.Sometimes Grady never even watched. And he never nagged him about rememberingor doing it right or calling him a dumb head if he messed up on the time orstuff, like Lance used to do.

Stevie thought it was way cool the way Grady treated him like a grown-up.Mostly he thought Grady was way cool, too. It was like, if he said he'd behome to go for a boat ride at four o'clock, he was there right on time. Mosttimes he was early. Sometimes, though, he'd come blasting down the driveway atthe last minute, looking kinda ha.s.sled. But he always came.

He let Stevie drive the boat, too. And not just real slow, but fast enoughso's the boat sort of lifted up out of the water. Stevie loved going fast.

He thought maybe he might even love Grady a little. He was pretty sure Gradyloved him a lot. n.o.body ever said they loved him before Grady did that firstday in California when he came into the pink house where they'd taken himafter Lance and Moira had gotten arrested.

It was that way with Mom, too. She was really neat. He knew he loved her. Hewas even thinking of maybe admitting he liked being called Jimmy. Maybe heeven sort of remembered her calling him that before. Only, whenever he thoughtabout that, he got that funny sick feeling in his belly.

It was the way he got sometimes watching scary movies right before somethingreal gross happened.

"How come we have to take the flag down every night and put it up everymorning?" he asked as Grady came ambling up carrying his tackle box, the polesover his shoulder. "How come we don't just leave it up?"

Grady glanced up, his face kinda soft like as he watched the flag comingdown. "Because the flag is special and needs special rules to show that." Heglanced toward the water and the guy fishing off the point. Jimmy had seen himpull in two already.

"Lance said he burned the flag once. Said it gave him a high."

Grady's face got so hard it was scary. "It's a funny thing, Jim. In somecountries, Lance could be shot for burning a flag. But here all of usincluding Lance are allowed to say anything we want about the government orthe flag, just as long as we don't break any laws while we're doing it."

"How come burning the flag isn't against the law?"

"Because the men who thought up this country figured we were all smart enoughto get along with one another without loading us down with a bunch of rules."

"Did you ever say bad things about the government?"

"Sometimes, especially when I have to pay my taxes every year. But I wouldnever burn a flag or spit on it or do anything but respect it. My mother's dadwas killed fighting for that flag." Grady looked a little sad for a minute."Need a hand with folding?"

"Wouldn't mind."

Grady put down the tackle box and poles and reached up to haul in theflapping material. "There's something else that's pretty neat about the flag,too," he said as he handed Stevie one end. "It can be used as a signal."

Stevie concentrated on folding the side along one red stripe. "What kind ofsignal?" he asked when he had it right.

"You ever hear of Mayday? Or maybe SOS?"

"Sure. There was this war movie and this ship got torpedoed. They sent outthis signal."

"If you hang the flag upside down, with the stars down, it means that you'rein trouble and you need help."

"Hey, that's gnarly."

"Guess it is." Grady handed over his end, and Stevie finished folding. "Onething, though, Jim. Don't ever do it unless you really need help. But if-let'ssay someone came around looking to hurt you or your mom-do it as quick as youcan, and then hide someplace and wait for help." Grady glanced at the lakeagain. And then at the hill where the road was. "Is that clear, son?"

Stevie nodded, a little scared. "I can run really fast if I have to."

"Good man." Grady ruffled his hair before grabbing his stuff. "You put awaythe flag and I'll meet you at the boat. Old Whiskerface is waiting."

Chapter 13.

Hewas a big boy, now. Three years old. He almost never sucked his thumbanymore and pretty soon he was going to ask Mommy to turn off the night-lightwhen he went to bed. He knew there were no such things as monsters becauseDaddy said so, and Daddy never lied. But Daddy also said that there were somereally bad guys in the world who liked to hurt little kids, which was why hewasn't ever s'posed to talk to grown-ups he didn't know. And he hadn't.

He'd gone to his room to get Pooh when two men with funny masks on theirfaces had snuck up behind him. Jimmy had tried to scream for Mommy, but thebig man in the black clothes had shoved something into his mouth, then draggedhim off to the van with no windows.

Jimmy had kicked and punched at the guy's chest, but the guy just laughed andstuck an awful needle in his arm. Jimmy didn't remember anything else until hewoke up in the back seat.

Jimmy was trying his bestest to be brave, but he was so scared his throatfelt funny and his head was all fuzzy. He wanted his mommy, but the two badguys just laughed whenever he asked how long before he could go home.

Jimmy really wished Daddy was here now.

He felt real safe when Daddy was in the house. When Mommy and Daddy tuckedhim in and told him to sleep tight Jimmy knew everything was okay. Sometimeshe'd wake up and hear Mommy and Daddy laughing in their room down the hall,and he'd laugh, too, 'cause he felt so warm and safe.

"My daddy's a p'liceman and he'll shoot you if you don't let me go h-home,"he told the man with the funny mask in his best scary voice.

"Forget it, kid. Ain't n.o.body coming for you, no matter how long you bawl."

The man's name was Nikolai and he was big, like Daddy. Only the man's eyeswere mean, like the rattlesnake in Jimmy's favorite book about bugs andreptiles and dinosaurs.

Jimmy scrubbed the tears off his cheeks. He didn't know what to do. His Daddywas s'posed to be here by now. His mouth trembled, and the tears spilled outof his eyes again.