"Maybe that's all you did." Lou frowned into his gla.s.s. Like Emma, he'd

been able to put the case aside for long stretches. But it always came

back. He knew the face of that little boy would always haunt him.

"Emma, we were never sure you went into the room, or saw anything. At

the time, you thought you did, but you were very confused. It was just

as likely that you heard something that frightened you, ran to the

stairs to call your father, and fell. You were only six, and afraid of

the dark."

Was, and am, she thought. "I've never been able to sort it out, you

see. And I hate not knowing, not being sure I couldn't have stopped it.

Saved him."

"I can put your mind at rest there." He put the gla.s.s aside. He wanted

her to see him as a cop now, an official. "There were two men in your

brother's room that night. The nanny claimed that she heard two people

whispering as she was being bound. The forensic evidence corroborated

it. The syringe found on the floor of your brother's room contained a

sedative, a child's dose. From what we were able to piece together, the

time that elapsed between the nanny being bound and your fall was less

than twenty minutes. It was a bungled attempt, Emma, with tragic

results, but it was well thought out. Something happened to confuse

their plans, to confuse them. We may never know what it was. But if

you had gone into that room, had tried to fight them off yourself, you

wouldn't have been able to save Darren, and in all likelihood would have

been killed as well."

She hoped he was right. She prayed he was right. But it did little to

soothe her. When she left an hour later she promised herself she would

try to believe it.

"You have wonderful parents," she told Michael as he walked her to her

car.

"Yeah. I've almost broken them in." He put his hand on the door handle.

There was no way he was going to let her walk out of his life so quickly

again. He remembered how she had looked on the beach that day-had it

been five years before? She'd looked sad-sad and beautiful. Something

about her had struck a chord in him then. She struck the same one now.

"Are you staying in town long?"

She gazed down the street. Such a pretty neighborhood. She could hear

children playing a few doors down, and the low hum of another

mower tr.i.m.m.i.n.g grben suburban gra.s.s. She wondered, wistfully, what it

might be like to live in such a place. "I leave tomorrow."

He wanted to swear. "Quick trip."

"I have cla.s.ses Monday." She looked up, feeling as awkward as he. He was

more attractive than she remembered-the chipped tooth, the slightly

crooked nose. "I wish I had more time."

"What are you doing now?"

"I- I was going to go for a drive. Up in the hills."

He understood, and wasn't sure he cared for the idea. "Want some

company?"

She started to rerise, politely, as she'd been taught. "Yes, very

much," she heard herself say.

"Give me a minute." He was off, before she could change her mind. The