closed. Tell me about the guy with the great ass. You two an item?"
"We seem to be something, but I'm not sure what." Thoughtfully, Phoebe propped an elbow on the table, nested her chin in her palm. "I'm out of practice. Kid, job, raw spots from failed marriage. He's so damn cute."
"I noticed. How's the sex?"
Phoebe snorted out a surprised laugh. "You get right to it."
"Healthy sex is one of life's great entertainments. Take it from somebody who sees too much of the other kind. But if you don't want to share-"
"Actually." She hadn't made time for a female friend of her own age in too long. Now, Phoebe leaned forward, lowered her voice. "The other n i g h't..."
She gave a condensed version of her visit to Duncan's house.
"He stopped? You're about to go for the gold right out on the veranda-which, let me insert, is very sexy-and he stops?"
"Thirty seconds more, that's all it would've taken." Phoebe did a test roll of her bad shoulder. "If I hadn't moved the wrong way... what?"
"Romantic and sexy. I mean, God, how many guys are going to shut it down at that point?"
"I'm going to need a note from my sister-in-law to close the deal. Private duty nurse."
"Can I have him when you're done? No, seriously, Phoebe, when you two get that next thirty seconds, it's going to be memorable."
"I'm thinking. Listen, I've got to get home. My kid. But the next time, we'll explore your sex life."
"At the moment, we could do that over a bag of peanuts in the break room. Maybe Cute Guy has a friend."
"I'll ask."
"I'm available."
Phoebe got out of the car just as Lorelei Tiffany clipped up with her incredibly silly dog. Tonight's leash was candy pink, to coordinate with
Mrs. Tiffany's ensemble-heels, pillbox hat, waist-cinching jacket and thigh-gripping capris.
"Evening, Miz Tiffany. How are you and Maximillian Dufree?"
"We're going to have ourselves a nice stroll in the park." Mrs. Tiffany tipped down her rhinestone-studded glasses to peer at Phoebe. "You just getting home?"
"Yes, ma'am. I'm running a little later than usual today."
"Got your car back, I see."
"I did. For now. I'm afraid I'm going to have to give it a decent burial soon."
"My uncle Lucius once buried an entire Cadillac DeVille, complete with passengers, in a soybean field outside of Macon. So they say."
"Hmmm, that must've been some job."
"That was Uncle Lucius for you. He never quibbled about getting his hands dirty. I saw you on TV today."
"Oh? There was some trouble over in Gordonston."
"Crazy man going to murder his whole family in a three-bedroom bungalow. I saw it. You're going to be on TV, honey, you need to dress for it. Bright colors do the trick, and more blusher. You don't want to look all washed-out and dull on the TV, now do you?"
Oddly, Phoebe felt washed-out and dull standing there on the wide sidewalk while Maximillian Dufree peed lavishly on the trunk of the near live oak. "I guess not, but I wasn't expecting to be on TV."
"Expect the unexpected." Mrs. Tiffany wagged her elaborately ringed index finger. "You remember that, and always carry your blusher, you'll do fine. You get yourself on TV like that, you might just catch yourself a husband. A man likes a woman with pink in her cheeks. And a nice, soft bosom."
"I'll keep that in mind. You and Maximillian Dufree have a nice walk now."
As Phoebe started up the walk to what she considered the relative sanity of home, she heard Mrs. Tiffany trill out with a "And good evening to you!"
She glanced back, saw the man strolling by. He tapped the brim of his ball cap toward Mrs. Tiffany. He wore a camera strapped crossways over his dark windbreaker and resting at his hip. A tourist, Phoebe thought idly, though there was something vaguely familiar about him. Since he was a man, Mrs. Tiffany had to put her flirt on.
Amused, Phoebe continued up the steps. She didn't see him pivot, raise the camera, frame her in. When something tickled at the base of her spine, she glanced back. But he was strolling casually away. She could hear him whistle as he walked, something slow and sad and as vaguely familiar as he'd been himself.
She couldn't say why the sound of it gave her a chill.
Chapter 13
She would not feel guilty because she was doing something outside the house and family on a Sunday evening. She would not feel guilty. It was a litany Phoebe repeated off and