"Do you want to go in, talk to some of the neighbors?"

"No point. The cops would have already. Suskind wouldn't have come here other than to go through the apartment. Not only because he wouldn't have a reason to meet Duncan here, but because this area would scare him. South Boston's not his turf."

"It's not yours either, whiskey baron."

"That's my father, or my sister the baroness. Anyway, I've done some pro bono work out of Southie. Not my turf, no, but not uncharted territory. Well, I guess we hit the highlights, or more like the lowlights."

"He was just doing his job," Abra said. "I didn't like him, or didn't like the way he was doing his job the time he talked to me, but he didn't deserve to die for doing his job."

"No, he didn't. But you could consider he's getting another spin on the karma wheel."

"I know pandering when I hear it, but well done. And I'll do just that."

"There you go. Let's go see how Gran's doing before we head back."

"Would you drive me by the house where you lived with Lindsay?"

"Why?"

"So I can get a sense of who you were."

He hesitated, then thought, Why not? Why not do the full circle? "Okay."

It felt odd to travel those roads, to head in that direction. He hadn't been by the house in the Back Bay since he'd been allowed to clear out what he wanted. Once he had, he'd hired a company to sell the rest, then he'd put the house on the market.

He'd thought cutting those ties would help, but he couldn't say it had. He pa.s.sed shops and restaurants that had once been part of his routine. The bar where he'd often had drinks with friends, the day spa Lindsay had favored, the Chinese place with its incredible kung pao chicken and grinning delivery boy. The pretty trees and trim yards of what had once been his neighborhood.

When he pulled up in front of the house, he said nothing.

The new owners had added an ornamental tree to the front, something with weeping branches just starting to bloom in delicate pink. He saw a tricycle on the front walk, bright red and cheerful.

The rest looked the same, didn't it? The same peaks and angles, the same glinting windows and wide front door.

So why did it seem so foreign?

"It doesn't look like you," Abra said beside him.

"It doesn't?"

"No, it doesn't. It's too ordinary. It's big, and beautiful in its way. Beautiful like a stylish coat, but the coat doesn't fit you, at least it doesn't fit you now. Maybe it fit the you with the Hermes tie and Italian suit and lawyerly briefcase who stopped in the local coffee shop for an overpriced specialty coffee while he answered texts on his phone. But that's not you."

She turned to him. "Was it?"

"I guess it was. Or that was the road I was on, whether or not the coat fit."

"How about now?"

"I don't want the coat back." He studied her. "When the house finally sold a few months ago, it was a relief. Like shedding a layer of skin that had gotten too tight. Is that why you wanted to come by here? So I'd admit that, or see that?"

"It's a nice side benefit, but primarily, I was nosy. I had a coat not that different once. It felt good to give it to someone it suited more. Let's go see Hester."

Another familiar route, from one home to another. As the distance increased from the Back Bay, the tension in his shoulders eased. Automatically he stopped at the florist near his family home.

"I like to get her something."

"The good grandson." Pleased, she got out with him. "If I'd been thinking, we could've gotten something in Whiskey Beach. She'd have gotten a kick out of that."

"Next time."

Abra smiled as they went in. "Next time."

Abra wandered, leaving the selection to him. She wanted to see what he'd choose, and how he'd go about it. She hoped he didn't go for the roses, however beautiful. Too expected, too usual.

It pleased her when he went for the blue iris and mated them with some pink Asiatic lilies.

"That's perfect. It says spring, and boldly. Very, very Hester."

"I want her home before the end of summer."

Abra leaned her head against his shoulder while the florist wrapped and rang. "So do I."

"It's good to see you, Mr. Landon." The florist offered Eli a pen to sign the receipt. "Give our best to your family."

"Thanks. I will."

"Why do you look so surprised?" Abra asked as they started out.

"I got used to people I knew in my other life ... we'll say, either pretending not to know me or just walking away."

She rose on her toes to kiss his cheek. "Not everyone's an a.s.shole," she said.

And they walked out to where Wolfe stood by Eli's car. For a moment, past and present overlapped.

"Nice flowers."

"And legal," Abra said cheerfully. "They have more nice ones inside if you're in the mood."

"You've got business in Boston?" he asked, keeping his eyes on Eli.

"As a matter of fact." He started to step around Wolfe to open the car door for Abra.

"Why don't you explain what business you had in Duncan's office building, asking questions?"

"That's legal, too." Eli handed the flowers to Abra to free his hands.

"Some people can't resist going back to the scene of the crime."

"And some can't resist beating a dead horse. Is there anything else, Detective?"