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his garage with the door shut, no one can verify that. You’ll be interested to know he’s threatening to sue the NHPD for harassment because an officer parked outside his house, in full view of the neighbors, and questioned him aggressively, according to Mr. Frankland.”

“Pest,” I said.

Watson chuckled. “While you’re on the phone, Lucy. Significant parts of this investigation are being taken over by the Boston police. I’m telling you this because your father’s aware of it.”

“Boston police? Why?”

“Further digging has discovered that Mr. Lewiston had some associates that are, shall we say, known to the Boston authorities. He owed money to the sort of people you don’t want to owe money to.”

“You said earlier he was in debt only to banks and credit agencies and the like.”

“It would appear Rich Lewiston’s financial problems went deeper than first appeared. Your father’s ordered a full internal investigation into his partner’s clients to see if he undermined the reputation of the firm in any way. It’s possible Rich angered people he shouldn’t have.”

“You mean it might have been a mob hit?”

“Boston thinks the origins of the man’s murder are more likely to be found in that city than in Nags Head. This is not, Lucy, an entirely new case on their files.”

Meaning they’d been watching Rich. Probably waiting for him to lead them to higher-ups in organized crime or do something to incriminate himself.

“I plan to release Mr. Lewiston’s body on Monday and allow his wife and son to take him home, provided nothing new comes up on the weekend.”

“Thanks for talking to me,” I said.

He chuckled. “Take care of yourself, Lucy.”

In a way, I was relieved. If this case belonged to Boston, then it had nothing to do with me or people I cared about. I was glad to be able to take off my sleuthing hat. Not that anyone ever asked me to put it on, or even that I wanted to. But that’s what seems to happen all too often.

If it turned out that the roots of the case lay back in Boston, well and good. But I couldn’t forget that Rich Lewiston’s presence in Nags Head was still unexplained. He had to have had a reason for coming all this way, unexpectedly and unannounced. If that reason was directly related to his murder, then I couldn’t turn my back and say it was none of my business. Not if it involved people I was close to. I’d keep trying to do what I could do to help sort all this out.

If the case did lead back to Richardson Lewiston and Rich’s law practice, what effect might that have on Ricky? I had no idea how intertwined Rich and Ricky were in the firm’s cases and client base. Maybe Ricky had turned a blind eye to whatever his father had been up to. And what of my father? Even if Rich had been acting on his own initiative and keeping any illegal or unethical activities from the rest of the partners, surely that had the potential to destroy the reputation of Richardson Lewiston.

I don’t know anything about the law or the running of a law firm. My dad had never tried to interest me in following in his footsteps and potentially joining the firm, but I do know that for a major corporate law office, reputation is everything.

Regardless of what had happened to Rich or was happening to the case, Mom would be glad to be able to go home on Monday. I gave her a quick call to check in. “Hi, Mom. Just calling to see if there are any developments at your end.” I could tell by the buzz of noise in the background she was in a restaurant or bar.

“Nothing I know of, dear,” she said.

“Where are you?”

“At the Ocean Side for”—she lowered her voice—“yet another round of drinks with Evangeline and her entourage. This is all getting terribly tedious, Lucy. Evangeline’s bored and restless and wanting people to entertain her.”

A bark of female laughter echoed in the background.

“It’s Lucy,” Mom said. “I’ll be right back. No, nothing more for me. Thank you.” The voices and laugher faded as Mom walked away. “There, now I can talk easier.”

“Is Evangeline okay?”

“No, she’s not okay. Brittle is the word I’d use. Laughing too loud, drinking too much. She needs to go home with her son so they can grieve together, not be pretending to be the life of the party.” She sighed. “Maybe I’m being too harsh. Easy for me to say.”

“We all deal with grief in our own way.”

“That we do. I suspect there’s a substantial amount of guilt mixed in with Evangeline’s grief. Probably on Ricky’s part too.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, one part of her is glad her husband is dead and she can get on with her life. The other part of her feels guilty about that. They were married for many years. As for Ricky, he and his father were never close.”

“By get on with her life, you mean with Leon Lions.”

“Not necessarily him. He’s doting on her, but she’s not responding in any way I’d consider to be beyond the normal bounds of a rekindled, casual friendship. Although she is enjoying making a fuss about leaning on his manly support.” Mom snorted. “The police came by earlier with another round of questions for her and Ricky.”

“What sort of questions?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t here. Things to do with the law practice. Evangeline claims not to know anything about that. I don’t necessarily believe her. She always seemed to know a great deal about the goings-on at Richardson Lewiston.”

I had a flashback to that night at Jake’s. Gordon Frankland approaching our table. Ricky getting to his feet, recognizing the man immediately. Evangeline recognizing him also, judging by the expression on her face. If he’d been nothing but a regular client of the firm, there was no reason she would have known him.

“Your friend the detective spent quite a lot of time with her,” Mom went on. “Leon

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