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Watson said. “Would you say that’s delayed shock or that she genuinely isn’t all that upset?”

Mom thought. “The latter. Rich and Evangeline are not close. They haven’t had a good marriage for many years. If ever. Right now she’s worried more about her son. I have to tell you, Detective, Rich was having problems lately. Drinking, gambling, making bad legal decisions. My husband can tell you more, but that’s what I observed and what I overheard.”

“His wife—”

“No,” Mom said firmly. “Evangeline would not have done something so crass as to kill her husband to get out of a failing marriage. Even in our circles, divorce is a common, acceptable practice these days.”

I wasn’t so sure. Yes, plenty of people got divorced and no one clutched their pearls over it. But Evangeline had known Rich was blowing through the family money at a rapid rate. An expensive divorce would not have helped the situation any.

His death, however, would put a stop to the financial bleeding. There might even be a handsome insurance policy involved.

I said nothing. Watson knew how to run an investigation. He’d find out about Rich’s financial and legal situation soon enough.

Butch drove the detective and me back to Jake’s. The parking lot was still full of cruisers, the forensics van was in place, and yellow police tape fluttered in the light wind, keeping the curious at bay.

Otherwise, the only cars in the lot were mine, Connor’s, Jake’s, and a Mercedes with Massachusetts plates, which I didn’t recognize.

Holly Rankin trotted toward the cruiser as we drove up. Unlike Butch, who looked every inch a cop, Holly was short and stocky with a sprinkling of freckles across her nose and red hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. She was young, and her uniform didn’t fit her too well, giving her an air of play-cop. But she was intelligent and eager to learn, and I was confident she’d soon grow into the job. “I took statements from Jake’s staff and Lucy’s friends and family,” she said, “and then I said they could go. That was okay? Right?”

“Fine,” Watson said. “I’ll read the statements when I get back to the office. In the meantime, did anything stand out I should know about?”

“No one claims to have seen the deceased at any time today, spoken to him on the phone, or otherwise communicated with him. He didn’t come inside the restaurant. Only Lucy’s dad knew him, and he said he didn’t even know the guy was in North Carolina. None of the staff heard anything, and none of them went outside between the time Jake did and then Ruth.”

“Thanks,” Watson said. “Good job.”

She trotted away, visibly pleased with the bit of praise.

We found Connor, Jake, and my dad sitting at the big round table having a beer. Connor leapt to his feet when we came in and gave me a hug. “I decided to wait until you got back. Everything okay? Where’s your mom?”

I hugged him back and then let go—reluctantly—to talk to Dad. “Mom’s staying with Evangeline tonight.”

“What about Ricky?” Dad asked.

“Evangeline can’t get hold of him, and she’s worried. He didn’t go to the bar at the Ocean Side like he said he would.”

“Ricky does his own thing,” Dad said. “He’s not one to report to his mother on his whereabouts.”

“That’s what we all said, but she’s leaving messages he’s not answering, and she’s getting increasingly frantic.” I pulled out a chair and dropped into it with a sigh.

“Get you a drink, Lucy?” Jake asked.

“No thanks.”

“You have no idea what brought your law partner to Nags Head tonight?” Watson asked my father.

“Absolutely none,” Dad said. “Although something odd did happen earlier tonight.”

“What was that?”

“A client of Rich’s recognized Ricky and Evangeline. He knew of me, although we’ve never met.”

“Is that common? You not to know your partner’s clients?”

“We’re a big firm,” Dad said. “A very big firm. We have offices in several cities, twenty-seven partners, and more than a hundred associates.”

“Oh,” Watson said.

“So, yes, I can’t possibly know all our clients on sight. Although I did recognize the man’s name.”

“What happened tonight that you call odd?”

Dad let out a long breath. “He approached our table. Said hello. He implied that he had problems with the way Rich and Ricky were representing him. Amos cut him off, reminding him this wasn’t the time or the place.”

“You don’t know what he was talking about?”

“I do not, but I can assure you I’ll be calling my office first thing in the morning. After we make arrangements for Rich, of course.”

“It was Gordon Frankland,” Connor said.

“Gordon Frankland?” Watson said. “Of Nags Head?”

“The Nags Head pest. Yes.”

“Who’s Gordon Frankland?” I asked.

No one answered me. “That is interesting,” Watson said. “Did you notice what time Mr. Frankland left the restaurant?”

“No,” Dad said. Connor shook his head.

“He was gone by the time we got up to leave,” I said. “I noticed that section of the deck was empty, but I can’t say what time he left. He was on his own.”

“I know who you’re talking about,” Jake said. “Gordon Frankland’s a regular here. He comes in for dinner at least once a week, sometimes more. Always on his own, far as I know. My staff has been warned—advised—to treat him with kid gloves.”

“I’ll have a word with him. I’ll also need to talk to your customers who might have been outside when Mr. Lewiston arrived,” Watson said to Jake. “Most people pay by credit card, I assume.”

Jake stood up. “Yeah. We ask for telephone numbers when we take reservations, so I can get you those as well.”

“If you don’t need me anymore,” I said. “I’d like to go home, and I’m okay to drive myself. I’m bushed. If you don’t mind, Dad, I’m going to withdraw the offer of a nightcap.”

My father stood up. “I don’t mind. I’m glad we had a chance to spend some time together, Lucy. Despite how it turned out.” He approached my chair, and I got to my feet. He gave

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