"A man came in to talk to me after my morning cla.s.s. A private detective-investigator. His name's Kirby Duncan, from Boston. He said he has a client there. He wanted to ask me questions about you."

"Okay."

"Okay? It's not okay. He was pushy, and he said he'd compensate me for information, which I find personally insulting, so that's not okay. It's hara.s.sment, which is also not okay. You're being hara.s.sed. You should-"

"Tell the cops? I think that ship's sailed. Hire a lawyer? I've got one."

"It's not right. The police hounded you for a year. Now they or somebody's hiding behind lawyers and detectives to keep on hounding you? There should be a way to make them stop."

"There's no law against asking questions. And they're not hiding. They want me to know who's paying for the questions, the answers."

"Who? And don't say it's none of my business," she snapped out in case he tried to. "That jerk approached me. And he implied I refused to cooperate because we had a personal relationship, which easily translated to sleeping with you."

"I'm sorry."

"No." As he'd pulled his hand free, she just grabbed it again. "You won't be sorry. And if we did have a personal relationship, the kind he meant? It's none of his d.a.m.n business. We're adults, we're single. And there's nothing wrong, nothing immoral, nothing period about you moving on with your life. Your marriage was over before your wife died. Why shouldn't you have a life that includes a relationship with me, or anyone?"

Her eyes, he noted, turned a particularly glowing green when she was angry. Really angry.

"It sounds like this upsets you more than me."

"Why aren't you angry?" she demanded. "Why aren't you seriously p.i.s.sed?"

"I spent plenty of time being p.i.s.sed. It didn't help a h.e.l.l of a lot."

"It's intrusive, and it's-it's vindictive. What's the point in being vindictive when ..." It hit her, clear and strong. "It is her family, isn't it? Lindsay's family. They can't let go."

"Could you?"

"Oh, stop being so d.a.m.n reasonable." She stalked away, toward the verge of foaming water. "I think, if she'd been my sister, my mother, my daughter, I'd want the truth." She turned around, faced him where he stood, just watching her.

"How is hiring someone to come here, ask questions here, a way to find the truth?"

"So, it's not especially logical." He shrugged at that. "And it's not going to be productive, but they believe I killed her. To them there's no one else who could have or would have."

"That's close-minded and shortsighted. You weren't the only person in her life, and not, even at the time she died, the most important. She had a lover, she had a part-time job, she had friends, worked on committees, she had family."

She stopped, noting the way he frowned at her. "I told you I followed the case, and I listened to Hester. She felt able to talk to me when it was harder to talk to you or your family. I was someone who cared about her but was not really connected. So she could unload on me."

He didn't speak for a moment, then nodded. "It must've helped her to have you to unload on."

"It did. And I know Hester didn't like her, not one bit. She would've tried to, and would have made her welcome."

"I know that."

"What I'm saying is Hester didn't like her, and it's very unlikely Hester was the only person in the world who didn't. So like most people, Lindsay had enemies, or at least people who didn't like her, had grudges or hard feelings."

"None of them were married to her, had a public fight with her the day she died or discovered her body."

"With that line of thinking I hope to h.e.l.l you didn't ever consider representing yourself."

He smiled a little. "That would give me a fool for a client, so no, but those are all valid points. Add all that to her family's list of grievances. I put my needs and ambitions above hers and didn't make her happy, so she sought happiness elsewhere. She told them I neglected her then complained about the time she spent on her own interests, that she thought I was having affairs, that I was cold and verbally abusive."

"Even though there was never one shred of evidence-even after a thorough police investigation-that you were having affairs-and she was? Or that you were in any way abusive?"

"I was pretty verbal the last time I spoke to her, publicly."

"You both were, from what I read. And all right, I understand the need for family to support, to rationalize, to do whatever comforts. But siccing a private detective on you, here? There's nothing here. You haven't been here in years, so what could he find?"

Yeah, he could see having her to unload on had helped his grandmother. Despite his own reluctance to cover old ground, he knew it helped him. "It's not that so much as letting me know they're not going to let me walk away quietly. Her parents are dangling the threat of a wrongful death suit."

"Oh, Eli."

"I'd say this is just a way to let me know they're using all their options."

"Why don't their options include hounding her lover, or someone else she might've been involved with?"

"He had a solid alibi. I didn't."

"What's so solid about it?"

"He was home with his wife."

"Well, I read all that, heard all that, but his wife could be lying."

"Sure, but why? His wife, mortified and angry when she learned from the police he'd had this affair, with someone they both knew, reluctantly swore he'd been home since before six that evening. Their stories about the timeline, what they did, during the key time, meshed. Justin Suskind didn't kill Lindsay."

"Neither did you."

"Neither did I, but when you factor opportunity, I had it, he didn't."

"Whose side are you on?"

He smiled a little. "Oh, I'm on my side. I know I didn't kill her, just like I know, with what they have, I look guilty."

"Then they need more. How do you get more?"

"We've pretty much tapped that out."

"They've hired a PI. You hire a PI."

"Did that, got nothing that helped."

"So just give up? Stop that." She gave him a light shove. "Hire another one and try again."

"Now you sound like my lawyer."

"Good. Listen to your lawyer. You don't just lie back and take it. That's from experience," she added. "It's that long story I'll tell you one day. For now, I'm saying taking it makes you feel sad and weak and cowardly. It makes you feel like a victim. You're not a victim if you don't allow it."