"How'd it go in Portland?" Rainie asked.

He frowned. Thought we were debriefing after the funeral."

"Something came up. You can watch and talk."

"Apparently." He slapped Chuckie's leg with his hand.

"Go get us some coffee, Cunningham."

"Again?"

Three cups. The good stuff this time. We gotta impress the fed." Luke shot Quincy a look in the rearview mirror.

"I take mine black," Quincy offered.

Chuckie grumbled, but he knew when he wasn't wanted. He got out of the patrol car and started walking to the grocery store around the corner.

"Chuckie needs some personal time," Luke said the minute the rookie disappeared from view.

"I noticed."

"He's a good kid, Rainie. Just saw too much."

"What do you suggest?"

Luke shrugged.

"Kid that age? We should take him out shooting a few times. Then take him drinking after that. He'll work through it."

"Stress, guns, and alcohol," Quincy said dryly.

"Makes me wonder why the Veterans' Administration hasn't thought of it."

Luke grinned at him.

"You're thinking quality time on the shrink's couch, huh? Yeah, uh-huh. Chuckie boy will open up to some hundred-dollar-an-hour suit the day pigs fly. Sorry, feebie, but sometimes the locals know best."

"All right, all right." Rainie held up a hand.

"I want to know about your meeting with the Avalons in Portland yesterday. Tell us everything."

Luke's face immediately fell. He released his breath as a sigh, his gaze returning to Shep's house and looking troubled.

"Jesus, Rainie, why don't you start with the easy questions?"

"Do you like Mr. Avalon as a suspect?" "I spent three hours in the man's company, and h.e.l.l if I know. First off, Mrs. Avalon isn't Melissa's mother. Guess she died in childbirth. So I met with Daniel Avalon and Melissa's stepmother, Angelina."

"Daniel Avalon?" Rainie asked sharply.

"Yep," Luke said gloomily.

"Weird, Rainie. Real weird. Mr. Avalon conics from old money.

Invested heavily in real estate in central Oregon and made out like a bandit in the recent boom. He and Mrs. Avalon live in an old Victorian in Lake Oswego. Nice house, I guess. It was crammed full of so much junk, I was afraid I'd break something if I sneezed. They served me tea. In real china. With Mrs. Avalon all fussed up in some b.u.t.toned-up, lace-collar, cameo-brooch outfit that I think she bought at Jane Austen's garage sale. Mr. Avalon favors tweed and doesn't permit his wife to speak unless spoken to. Need I say more?"

"Stuffy and pretentious wasn't a crime last I checked."

"May I?" Quincy intervened.

"By all means," Rainie a.s.sured him. She was sitting as far away from him as she could in the backseat. They were both pretending not to notice.

"Did Mr. Avalon wait many years before remarrying? Say twelve to fifteen years?"

"Thirteen," Luke said. He looked at Quincy curiously.

"Did he speak of his daughter glowingly, but always as a child?

"When Melissa was eight years old she was the best dancer ... Oh, little Melissa always had the sweetest smile. She used to charm everyone in grade school." Little acknowledgment of her life now?"

"Yeah, as a matter of fact, he had pictures of her all over the place, but they were mostly little-girl stuff. First ballet cla.s.s, ten-year-old piano recital, that sort of thing."

"No photos of her mom?"

"Not that I saw."

"Her room still a little girl's room? Lots of pink ruffles and teddy bears?"

"And clowns." Luke shuddered.

Quincy nodded.

"I'm guessing Mr. Avalon had inappropriate relations with his daughter."

"Incest?" Rainie looked at Quincy incredulously.

"Jesus, SupSpAg, how do you sleep with that mind?"

"I can't be sure," Quincy said modestly, 'but it has all the cla.s.sic signs. Domineering father alone with his young daughter for the first thirteen years of her life. Seems very doting on the outside. I'm sure if you conducted further interviews you'd find plenty of neighbors and teachers telling you how "close" Mr. Avalon and his daughter were.

How "involved" he was in her life. But then she hits p.u.b.erty and the jig is up. To continue risks pregnancy, plus she's starting to get a woman's body, and many of these men aren't interested in that. So Mr.

Avalon goes ahead and takes a wife, some poor, pa.s.sive woman to serve as window dressing and help him appear suitable to the outside world.

Now he clings to the fantasy of what he once had. And protects it jealously."

"Does Mr. Avalon have access to a computer?" Rainie asked Luke.

"In his office."

She turned to Quincy.

"If Mr. Avalon was involved with his daughter, would he have problems with her relationship with VanderZanden?"