"Trust me," she said. "Why do you think I brought the long coat?"

He debated only for an instant before deciding, Why not? And a moment later, they were walking up the drive, Lexie doing her best to keep the jacket pinched together. They followed the curve of the drive near the hedge, and all at once, the old Georgian mansion stood in blazing glory before them.

The house, however, wasn't the first thing Jeremy noticed. What he saw first were the cars. Scores of cars, parked haphazardly, noses pointing in every direction as if planning a fast getaway. Numerous others were either circling the mayhem and flashing their brake lights or trying to squeeze into improbably tiny s.p.a.ces.

Jeremy halted, staring at the scene.

"I thought this was supposed to be a little get-together with friends."

Lexie nodded. "This is the mayor's version of a little get-together. You have to remember, he knows practically everyone in the county."

"And you knew this was coming?"

"Of course."

"Why didn't you tell me it would be like this?"

"Like I keep telling you, you keep forgetting to ask. And besides, I thought you knew."

"How could I have known he was planning something like this?"

She smiled, looking toward the house. "It is kind of impressive, isn't it? Not that I think you necessarily deserve it."

He grunted in amus.e.m.e.nt. "You know, I've really come to appreciate your southern charm."

"Thank you. And don't worry about tonight. It's not going to be as stressful as you think. Everyone's friendly, and when in doubt, just remember that you're the guest of honor."

Doris had to be the single most organized and efficient caterer in the world, Rachel thought, since this whole thing had been pulled off without a hitch and with plenty of time to spare. Instead of having to dish up food all night, Rachel was wiggling through the crowds in her best imitation Chanel party dress when she spotted Rodney walking up to the porch.

With his neatly pressed uniform, she thought he looked quite official, like a marine in one of those old World War II posters in the VFW building on Main Street. Most of the other deputies carried a few too many chicken wings and Budweisers around the midsection, but in his off-hours, Rodney pumped iron in his garage gym. He kept the garage door open, and sometimes on her way home from work, she'd stop and visit with him for a while, like the old friends that they were. As little kids, they'd been neighbors, and her mother had pictures of them bathing in the tub together. Most old friends couldn't say that.

She took a tube of lipstick from her purse and dabbed at her lips, conscious of the soft spot she had for him. Oh, they'd gone their separate ways for a while, but in the last couple of years, things had been changing. Two summers ago, they'd ended up sitting near each other at the Lookilu, and she'd seen his expression as he watched a newscast about a young boy who had died in a tragic fire in Raleigh. Seeing his eyes well up over the loss of a stranger had affected her in a way she hadn't expected. She'd noticed it a second time last Easter, when the Sheriff's Department sponsored the town's official egg hunt at the Masonic Lodge and he'd pulled her aside to tell her some of the trickier places in which he'd hidden the goodies. He'd looked more excited than the children, which made for a funny contrast with his bulging biceps, and she remembered thinking to herself that he'd be the kind of father who would make any wife proud.

Looking back, she supposed that was the moment she realized that her feelings for Rodney had changed. It wasn't that she fell in love with him right then and there, but it was the moment when she realized that she'd stopped believing the possibility to be nil. Not that it was likely, though. Rodney was over the moon for Lexie. Always had been, always would be, and Rachel had long since come to the conclusion that nothing would ever change the way he felt about her. There were times when it wasn't easy, and there were times when it didn't bother her at all, but lately, she admitted that the times it didn't bother her were fewer and further between.

Pushing through the crowd, she wished she hadn't brought up the subject of Jeremy Marsh at lunch. She should have known what was bothering Rodney. By now, it seemed, the entire town was talking about Lexie and Jeremy, starting with the grocer who had sold them their lunch and spreading like fire once the mayor made his announcement. She would still like to go to New York, but as she'd mentally replayed her conversation with Jeremy, she'd gradually come to the realization that he might have simply been making conversation and not extending an invitation. Sometimes she read too much into situations like that.

But Jeremy Marsh was just so . . . perfect.

Cultured, intelligent, charming, famous, and, best of all, not from here. There was no way Rodney could compete with that, and she had the sinking suspicion that Rodney knew it, too. But Rodney, on the other hand, was was here and didn't plan to leave, which was a different sort of an advantage, if one chose to see it that way. And, she had to admit, he was responsible and good-looking, too, in his own way. here and didn't plan to leave, which was a different sort of an advantage, if one chose to see it that way. And, she had to admit, he was responsible and good-looking, too, in his own way.

"Hey, Rodney," she said, smiling.

Rodney glanced over his shoulder. "Oh, hey, Rach. How are you?"

"Good, thanks. Some party, huh?"

"It's great," he said, not hiding the sarcasm in his voice. "How's it going inside?"

"Pretty good. They just got the banner up."

"Banner?'

"Sure. The one welcoming him to town. His name is in big blue letters and everything."

Rodney exhaled, his chest collapsing slightly. "Great," he said again.

"You should see what else the mayor has in store for him. Not only the banner and the food, but he had a key to the city made."

"I heard," Rodney said.

"And the Mahi-Mahis are here, too," she continued, referring to a barbershop quartet. Local citizens, they'd been singing together for forty-three years, and even though two of the members had to use walkers and one had a nervous twitch that forced him to sing with his eyes closed, they were nonetheless the most famous entertainers within a hundred miles.

"Swell," Rodney said again.

His tone gave her pause for the first time. "I guess you don't want to hear about any of that, though, huh?"

"No, not really."

"Why did you come, then?"

"Tom talked me into it. One day I'm going to figure out where he's coming from before he opens his mouth."

"It won't be so bad," she said. "I mean, you've seen how people are tonight. Everyone wants to talk to him. It's not like he and Lexie can hole up in some corner somewhere. I'll bet you ten to one they won't even be able to say more than ten words to each other all night. And, just to let you know, I saved a plate of food for you, if you don't have a chance to get anything to eat."

Rodney hesitated for a moment before smiling. Rachel always looked out for him.

"Thanks, Rach." For the first time, he noticed what she was wearing, his eyes alighting on the little gold hoops in her ears. He added, "You look nice tonight."

"Thank you."

"You want to keep me company for a while?"

She smiled. "I'd like that."

Jeremy and Lexie wove through the ma.s.s of parked cars, their breaths coming out in little puffs as they neared the mansion. On the steps up ahead, Jeremy saw one couple after another pausing at the door before going inside, and it took just an instant to recognize Rodney Hopper standing near the door. Rodney saw Jeremy at the same time, and his smile immediately changed into a scowl. Even from a distance, he looked large, jealous, and, most important, armed, none of which made Jeremy feel particularly comfortable.

Lexie followed his gaze. "Oh, don't worry about Rodney," she said. "You're with me."

"That's what I'm worried about," he said. "I kind of get the feeling he isn't all that happy that we showed up together."

She knew Jeremy was right, although she was thankful that Rachel was beside the deputy. Rachel always had a way of keeping Rodney calm, and Lexie had long thought that she'd be perfect for him. She hadn't, however, figured out a way of spelling it out for him without hurting his feelings. It wasn't the sort of thing she could bring up while they were dancing at the Shriners' Benefit Ball, was it?

"If it'll make you feel better, just let me do the talking," she said.

"I was planning on it."

Rachel brightened when she saw them coming up the steps.

"Hey, you two!" she said. When they were close, she reached out to tug on Lexie's jacket. "I love your outfit, Lex."

"Thanks, Rachel," Lexie said. "And you look like a million bucks, too."

Jeremy said nothing, preferring to examine his fingernails as he tried to avoid the evil eye that Rodney was sending his way. In the sudden silence, Rachel and Lexie glanced at each other. Reading Lexie's clues, Rachel stepped forward.

"And look at you, Mr. Famous Journalist," she sang out. "Why, one look at you, and women's hearts will be fluttering all night." She flashed a broad smile. "I almost hate to ask, Lexie, but would you mind if I escorted him inside? I just know the mayor is waiting for him."

"Not at all," Lexie said, knowing she needed a minute alone with Rodney. She nodded to Jeremy. "Go ahead, I'll catch up in a minute."

Rachel clamped onto Jeremy's arm, and before he realized it, he was being led away. "Now, have you ever been to a southern plantation as fine as this one?" Rachel asked.

"I can't say that I have," Jeremy answered, wondering if he was being thrown to the wolves. As they pa.s.sed, Lexie mouthed a silent thank-you and Rachel winked.

Lexie turned toward Rodney.

"It's not what you think," she began, and Rodney raised his hands to stop her from continuing.

"Look," he said, "you don't have to explain. I've seen it before, remember?"

She knew he was referring to Mr. Renaissance, and her first instinct was to tell him that he was wrong. She wanted to tell him that she wasn't going to let her feelings run wild this time, but she knew she'd made that promise before. That was what she said to Rodney, after all, when he'd tried to gently warn her that Mr. Renaissance had no intention of staying.

"I wish I knew what to say," she said, hating the guilty note in her voice.

"You don't have to say anything."

She knew she didn't. It wasn't as if they were a couple or had ever been a couple, but she had the strange sensation of confronting an ex-spouse after a recent divorce, when the wounds were still fresh. Again, she wished he would simply move on, but a little voice reminded her that she'd played a role in keeping the spark alive these last couple of years, even if it had more to do with security and comfort on her part than with anything romantic.

"Well, just so you know, I'm actually looking forward to things getting back to normal around here," she volunteered.

"Me, too," he said.

Neither said anything for a moment. In the silence, Lexie glanced off to the side, wishing that Rodney wore his feelings with a bit more subtlety.

"Rachel sure looks nice, doesn't she?" she said.

Rodney's chin dropped to his chest before he looked at Lexie again. For the first time, she saw the tiniest of smiles.

"Yeah," he said, "she does."

"Is she still seeing Jim?" she asked, referring to the Terminix man. Lexie had seen them together in the green truck mounted with a giant bug on their way to Greenville for dinner during the holidays.

"No, that's over," he said. "They only went out once. She said his car smelled like disinfectant, and she sneezed like crazy the whole night."

Despite the tension, Lexie laughed. "That sounds like something that could only happen to Rachel."

"She got over it. And it's not like it made her bitter or anything. She keeps getting back on the horse, you know."

"Sometimes I think she needs to pick better horses. Or at least ones without giant bugs on the car."

He chuckled, as if thinking the same thing. Their eyes met for an instant, then Lexie turned away. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Well, listen, I should probably head inside," she said.

"I know," he said.

"Are you coming in?"

"I'm not sure yet. I wasn't planning on staying that long. And besides, I'm still on call. The county is pretty big for one person, and Bruce is the only one in the field right now."

She nodded. "Well, if I don't see you again tonight, keep safe, okay?"

"I will. See you later."

She began moving toward the door.

"Hey, Lexie?"

She turned. "Yes?"

He swallowed. "You look nice, too, by the way."

The sad way he said it nearly broke her heart, and her eyes dipped for an instant. "Thank you," she said.

Rachel and Jeremy kept a low profile, moving around the edges of the crowd, as Rachel showed him the paintings of various members of the Lawson family who shared a striking resemblance not only from one generation to the next but, strangely, across genders as well. The men had effeminate qualities, and the women tended to be masculine, thus making it seem as if every artist had used the same androgynous model.

But he appreciated the fact that Rachel was keeping him occupied and out of harm's way, even if she refused to release his arm. He could hear people talking about him but wasn't quite ready to mingle yet, even if the whole thing did leave him feeling just a bit flattered. Nate hadn't been able to rustle up a tenth of this number of people to watch his television appearance, and he'd had to offer free booze as an enticement to get even that many to show.

Not here, though. Not in small-town America, where people played bingo, went bowling, and watched reruns of Matlock Matlock on TNT. He hadn't seen so much blue hair and polyester since . . . well, since ever, and as he was pondering the whole situation, Rachel squeezed his arm to get his attention. on TNT. He hadn't seen so much blue hair and polyester since . . . well, since ever, and as he was pondering the whole situation, Rachel squeezed his arm to get his attention.

"Get ready, darlin'. It's showtime."

"Excuse me?"

She looked past him, toward the rising commotion behind them.

"Well, Mayor Tom, how are you?" Rachel asked, beaming that Hollywood smile again.

Mayor Gherkin seemed to be the only person in the room who was perspiring. His bald head was shiny in the light, and if he seemed surprised that Jeremy was with Rachel, he didn't show it.

"Rachel! You are looking lovely as always, and I see you've been sharing the ill.u.s.trious past of this fine home with our guest here."

"Doing my best," she said.

"Good, good. I'm glad to hear it." They engaged in more small talk before Gherkin got to the point.

"And I hate to ask you this, being that you've been kind enough to tell him about this fine establishment, but would you mind?" he said, motioning to Jeremy. "People are excited to get this fine event started."

"Not at all," she answered, and in the next instant, the mayor had replaced Rachel's hand with his own and began leading Jeremy through the crowd.