She had driven around the same area when she first arrived in Park Beach. It was late that day, but after driving a thousand miles and getting warmer by the hour, she wanted to see the ocean immediately. She went directly to the beach from I-95 and left her car in a small beachfront park.

A pleasant onsh.o.r.e breeze caught her hair as she walked over to the water. She walked barefoot in the pale sand along the wavering water's edge, daring the warm hint of tide to catch her feet and slap around her ankles. A carefree moment. She could get used to this place called Florida.

This afternoon, looking for the Coffee Spot, she headed for the beachfront area again. She remembered the arrangement of low-rise condos and beachfront hotels on one side of Ocean Drive, and the boutiques and restaurants facing them. She found the Coffee Spot down a few blocks away from the expensive beachfront hotels.

She liked the retro fifties decor-a neon-light clock above an old fashioned jukebox-like an old-time diner without all the stainless steel. She sat at the counter on a red-topped stool. The waitress was filling her thick mug when G.o.ddard came in through the swinging kitchen door directly in front of her.

"I parked in back. Let's move over to that last booth," he said. "I'll sit on the far side."

Sandy nodded and picked up her coffee. "Remember the old movies-never sit with your back to the door and never trust a skirt."

He grinned. "Of course, everything I needed to know I learned from old movies."

A pretty good line, she thought. And she loved the grin. How bad could he be? She raised her coffee mug, "Here's looking at you, kid."

"How do you like Florida, Miss Reid?"

"If they ever had a day like this in Philly, they'd write a song about it."

Nice smile, smelled good, taller than she remembered. His jaw was slightly large, no, on second thought just right. So far, so good. She had yet to see his eyes. "You going to sit there and watch me through those cop gla.s.ses?"

"Sorry." He took them off.

Now, up close, she got a good look at him. His steel-gray eyes were set a little deep but nicely s.p.a.ced. She felt slightly timid looking at him. He was more interesting than she had antic.i.p.ated, more appealing. She should have changed before meeting him; she wished she came across a little more put together right now facing this guy. "How come you don't walk and talk like a cop."

"How do I walk and talk?"

"More like a lifeguard."

"I was, right here on this beach. Summer before I went off to college. But we're not here to socialize."

"I hope not, Detective, because I'm busy with a murder investigation."

"Call me Chip, and you're Sandra."

"Sandy." She reached across and shook his hand. It was softer than she expected. Her hand felt small.

The waitress was quick with his coffee. He waved the cream away. Sandy said, "You're a plain black coffee kind of guy."

"What kind is that?"

"No frills, nothing fancy added. Hold the cream and sugar, baby, take me straight to the caffeine."

"Am I being judged here?" he asked.

"You betcha."

"You're an interesting girl. Your mind is always turning, isn't it?" He blew on the coffee, took a sip, and glanced up at her. "First of all, I'm sorry if I came off overbearing when we first met."

"I expected it. It's in the cop manual-raise your voice to keep control. What's with the parking in back?"

"Huress has been nosing around. I don't want our cars seen together. Yours stands out like a red jellybean in a bowl of peanuts."

"Huress?"

"Bobby Huress, my old partner. We rode patrol. He thought we were great buddies but I just tolerated him. He's into all that macho c.r.a.p. The buddy stuff disappeared fast after I pa.s.sed the detective exam and he flunked. He claims I got special treatment because my dad was once chief. He barely studied and then said he couldn't pa.s.s because of the burden of wife and kids."

"He envies you. Why are you telling me this?"

"Probably shouldn't. I just wanted you to know, if you run into him, he's not on the case."

She could tell he was warming up to her. She liked this guy letting down his guard and throwing out some personal information, not afraid of appearing vulnerable. That earned him a couple more points. "Are you saying there's a patrol cop running around that you can't control, and he might try to play detective and approach me?"

"He's a sergeant now, has a lot of freedom. It's just a tip. All I'm saying is you're free to ignore him. Forget I said anything."

"I'll spot him if he follows me. What's he driving?"

"A blue and white, but watch out for his personal vehicle, a red Ford pickup with a large orange and blue *Gator Nation' decal on the back window."

"Hey, I've seen that truck parked outside my apartment, Raymond's apartment. I saw it and wondered what the h.e.l.l *Gator Nation' meant. Is that your school?"

"No, Florida State. When did you see his truck?"

"Don't remember now, but I know I've seen it." Her eyes narrowed as she studied him. "Why was it there? You two better not be running some kind of police game on me."

"No game. Huress has nothing to do with this case. I'll look into it."

"I'm dead serious about getting info to free my brother. This smells like a tag team to me. I really don't like this! Are you tracking me? I demand to know right now why a cop was parked outside my apartment in his personal vehicle."

"I know you're serious. I said I'd look into it." He paused for another sip and then his voice took on an official tone. "Jerry Kagan told me he hired you as his investigator."

"What difference does that make?"

"It's easier for me if you're officially on the case. Otherwise, it looks like I'm just being cozy with the defendant's sister. Since I can't question your brother directly without his attorney being present, I don't want to be accused of tricking his sister into spilling info."

"Got it. You're now officially off the hook. If the new investigator for the defense screws up it's not your problem."

"You could really foul up your brother's defense by talking to me. I want to be certain we understand each other; starting now, consider yourself fair game. I don't intend to tell you anything about the investigation, and whatever you tell me I'll definitely use if I can, and will testify to in court."

"Seems fair to me, what's your problem?"

He shook his head. "You are a puzzle."

"The world isn't ready for the unpuzzled me."

"Maybe you don't want anyone to understand you."

"I haven't met anyone that can. So, I guess you've figured out that you don't have any choice but to deal with me." She gave him a nice smile to take the edge off that p.r.o.nouncement.

He frowned. "So you're going for our arrangement?"

She continued, "If you're asking for cooperation, sure I'll do that. I need to be able to communicate with the opposition. You just have to listen. If you're on the wrong track, then it might help your investigation. Just stay off my back."

"Okay, I won't bother you unless you start acting crazy. I can use some cooperation right now. If I'm reading you correctly I can make statements like that without you laughing."

"Keep being honest like that and I won't laugh." She felt she was getting somewhere. "You called me here because you need my help."

"Maybe, don't know enough about you. Don't know whether to trust you or not. You said your job in Philadelphia puts you in contact with the police. So, I suppose you know your way around attorneys and judges and courtrooms and cops and even criminals."

"All of the above."

"Good, so you're probably savvy with the dos and don'ts. I phoned the Chief of Detectives in Philadelphia. He said you're okay."

"I'm thrilled at the thought."

"Hey look, don't let your wisecracks get in the way of our understanding each other. I'm trying to get you pegged. You've made it clear I must deal with you, and I'm trying to figure out if I can live with that."

"I'm sorry. I'll behave. I have no idea who the Chief of Detectives is, but I'm glad I received no bad reports."

"That's better. So, you're like a semi-pro in this business. Now I see why you hustled down here when your brother had a problem."

"He didn't have a problem until he met you. I suppose you'd never ask for help from me if you thought my brother was guilty, right?"

"I didn't say that."

"Well, you'll get absolutely no help from me unless you're buying this coffee. I have my principles."

"You're tough. Okay, I'll a.s.sume you know how to dig for the bits and pieces that could help both of us. To start with, I need to find out about the Jardin Cafe, something beyond public records, something beyond common knowledge."

"Ah, the Norma Martin angle, tell me more."

"Nope."

She struck a pose with one hand on her hip and stared at him.

"You have to let me be a cop."

She shrugged and took a notebook from her purse. "It's owned by MoonGlow Enterprises, a Delaware Partnership."

"Thanks a lot, but anyone can Google that."

"Well, they don't make it easy to dig down to the true owners. I work with a gal at our firm in Philly who specializes in uncovering such information. That is I used to work with her, I might not have a job anymore. Anyway, I've already phoned and given her that business name. She's checking it out. I'll get back to you."

"Excellent. Can I ask something else of you? I'd prefer you not interview Towson's seventh floor neighbor, at least not yet."

She wasn't aware Towson had a seventh floor neighbor. She bluffed, "Well, I don't know if I can promise that, why not?"

"She's old and deaf to start with, Mrs. Crawford. She witnessed people coming and going that day, and I don't want to get her more confused than she already is. I'm afraid if you talk to her, later she might even identify you as the killer."

She didn't laugh. "So, it was a woman she saw?"

"Oh, you're fast. Come on, I didn't say that."

"It was on your mind. Admit it now. You've an unidentified woman on your mind, or you wouldn't have put me in your little joke."

"Do you read tea leaves too?"

"Yes, but I'm better at men. You realize, of course, that Mrs. Crawford will tell me things she'd never tell you."

"Perhaps you're right but stay away for now. Maybe I can use that angle later."

"You mean maybe we can use that angle later."

"Don't get presumptuous, Sandy. We aren't working this case together. I'll welcome your input as long as you don't become a loose cannon. Do you know how far I'm sticking my neck out just talking with you? Moran would love to catch me smiling at you."

"You're right. Go do your cop thing. Do I detect a hint of animosity between you and the state attorney?"

"No secret there. He doesn't much care for me either. Little Bonaparte is a tyrant with far too much power. In their Judicial District, state attorneys have tremendous control over life and liberty. The system is very efficient. Moran simply states what he wants and the judge gives it to him. No conflicts, and everyone but the defendant has a nice day."

"Great, the guy who has a noose around my brother's neck is a bully and a jerk. I hope you don't mean he's crooked?"

"The cold-blooded b.a.s.t.a.r.d would ignore evidence if he believed it would punch his ticket to Washington." He appeared uncomfortable with the subject. He straightened and pushed away the empty mug. "Do you have anything else you'd like to share with me?"

She had a wonderful punch line for that question. She put a napkin to her mouth to hide her smile. She cleared her throat. "Yes, as a matter of fact I have. I went to the InnTowner. Loraine was definitely there. The maids said she was lounging around, wearing a thong, and flirting with Raymond. Personally, I find flirting while wearing a thong redundant."

"She already admitted to me she was there with Reid."

"Oh, good, but I'll bet she didn't tell you she wore a thong? What does that tell you? Does that fit in with her explanation for being there? Doesn't that indicate deviousness on her part?"

"No comment. Were you able to establish when she left the motel?"

"All I know is she left before the noon checkout time. Guess I've struck out again with useless information."

"Keep trying"

"Okay, then tell me something about yourself," she said. "Why does a nice person like you take a job frightening people and ordering them around?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing."

"Geez, I'm not that bad."

"Are all Philadelphia girls as c.o.c.ky as you?"

"I usually get away with it."

"Well, in my case it's in the genes. Dad was a cop, the best, he made police chief."

"You want to be just like him, right?"