Nina dreamed she was flying—no, riding on the back of a beautiful, fast animal. Tall pines whipped by, and she could smell the grass they ran through. They ran together out of sheer pleasure, not to escape anything, not to go fast, to feel the air slapping her cheeks and the thump of hooves, of life.
Next to her, in Andrea’s active imagination, her children, Troy and Brianna, banged on a door, begging for her attention. The next door over, the women that she worked with every day, victims of violence, hammered as hard. She opened both doors and let the flood commence.
In Matt’s mind, Nina’s and his dead mother, Margaret, offered them advice: help your kids however you can. That serious thought led to another, much more exciting: Andrea and him waving goodbye to the kids, who were going off somewhere good, such as to school or a fabulous job, and then the two of them falling into bed as they had when they were young and full of lust.
On the other side of Nina, Paul lay, receiving the strong, high-altitude sun like a kiss, dreaming of a dead man thrown into
the cold waters of Lake Tahoe. He watched the ruined pieces of a body flutter under its glassy surface and land in the smooth sand far below. Was that peace for a dead man? Did he think anything, two years after his death, drifting toward his final resting place?
Did he deserve peace?
Living people had such vivid dreams. In Paul’s mind, the dead did not dream. They lived on in the living, and that was all.
“Ouch!” Nina cried, sitting up suddenly. Her howl woke her fellow sleepers, who groused around in the hot sand.
“Sorry, Mom.” Bob picked up the Frisbee from next to where she lay on a faded beach towel. He whispered, “Troy’s athletically challenged.”
She dusted her sandy feet, pushing sand off one foot with another. “But a brilliant student.”
“Only because he does homework,” Bob said, frowning, then kicked up sand, running off to toss a hard pass to Brianna, who caught it easily.
Andrea stretched out her arms. “Too much simple carbohydrate added to too much wine at lunch.”
“Enough to get the neural passages relaxed at last,” Paul said.
“Hey, I drank Coke and fell asleep,” said Matt. “What’s with these corporations and their promises? Where’s the mega-caffeine jolt when you need it?”
“Sunshine. Warm weather. The lake so swimmable,” Nina said, enjoying how the sun stroked her skin. “The kids, for once, too busy for angst.”
“Thermos of coffee,” Andrea said, rooting around in the basket. “Cups.” She made up people’s orders, sugar here, cream there, and handed the cups around.
They drank, but soon fell back upon their sandy towels, watching the kids, who had given up their game and run for the lake.
“Got anything chocolate?” Matt asked, and Andrea dug around in a bag for some fudge-iced biscotti.
“What a day,” Nina said, taking a bite out of her biscuit. She watched billowy clouds skim across the sky.
“You must be glad Bob didn’t go to Sweden,” Paul said. “You’re not ready to let go of him.”
“You’re right about that. He’s in school here, in another band,” Nina said. “I think he’s doing great. I can’t wait to see what he’ll do someday.”
“Typical motherly optimism,” Paul said. “But he is an exceptional kid.”
“Yep, he is,” Nina said.
“Kiva’s my favorite beach,” Andrea said, up on her elbows, watching her kids mess around in the lake. “Where locals come, where dogs are allowed. Easygoing. Right for us and right for Hitchcock.”
Hitchcock was on a leash, and Bob was teasing him with smelly bait, driving the dog crazy.
“Who knew you were so provincial?” Matt sprinkled Andrea’s stomach with sand. “Who knew you harbored bad feelings about outsiders?”
“I like being in the know. I like being local,” Andrea replied. She took a handful of sand and piled it on Matt’s stomach, then rubbed it in.
“You bad girl,” he said, brushing it off.
“You bad boy.” Andrea smiled at him. He smiled back at her.
“Hear anything from Kurt?” Matt asked Nina.
“Often. He’s good about staying in touch. He’s living with Dana. They have a two-bedroom apartment in Stockholm, I guess hoping that Bob will visit soon. Frequently. And I think he will visit them soon. He does miss his dad.”
“Doesn’t that hurt?” Andrea asked.
“Kurt is Bob’s father,” Nina said, thinking, and my first real love. “We did a pile of good together, making that boy. I want him happy. That’s better for all of us.”
“Most women like seeing their exes slapped,” Andrea said. “It’s unusual but admirable, you enjoying his happiness.”
“How about Kurt’s music?” Matt asked. “He’s had issues. He find a way to play and stay in the game?”
So Nina told them all about Kurt’s music, how well he was doing, but really, she was looking up at the clouds, how the shapes changed, how she loved being here in this moment, on the hot sand, watching the kids play mindlessly, next to all the people she loved the most. She knew she needed more sunscreen, but torpor stopped her from moving.
“Okay, well, I’ve made a personal pledge not to trash the guy,” Paul said, “even though I have negative thoughts on the topic of him, his music, and his personal choices that would amuse the world if I blogged.” Paul turned over onto his stomach.
Nina hadn’t seen him in a couple of months. He looked like the lion that lived on in her imagination, the way former lovers did in idealized versions: fit, tanned, confident. After things settled down, and it was clear Cheney was not interested in ruining Paul’s life, Paul had returned to Carmel and his life there. He and Wish were doing well. Economic meltdowns didn’t faze investigators. People were always stealing, and a bad economy meant they stole more. Paul and Wish found themselves in great demand and weren’t hurting for business.
“What happened to Paradise Resort?” Matt asked. “Not much in the Tahoe Mirror since the secretive Koreans took charge. I know there’s some local criticism of the sale, but I drove by there a couple of days ago. The changes look good to me. Anything to benefit the local economy, I say hooray.”
Nina took a drink of her coffee. She lived in this place that had moods as drastic as any negligible human but continued to draw her, strong as gravity, holy as air. She had no plan to leave the mountains where she had raised her son, where her brother lived, where her life was. “Marianne and Gene are in charge at the resort. I talked to the Koreans and they were surprisingly okay with their deceptions. They like those two because of how connected they are to the resort, and how much they love it. They’re working on making it a destination year-round, you know, hiking, biking trails. They’re agitating for a gondola like the one Heavenly has. Their backers are receptive to the concept, even though nobody in the world has money for any such thing these days.”
“And Kelly?”
“That’s a good outcome. After her father died, she straightened up and went back to law school. I’m really happy for her. You know, Paul, what you did, confessing what happened to her brother? That mattered to her. That helped her.”
For a few minutes, they drank their coffee, watching the kids harass each other.
Andrea’s red hair glowed in the sun. Nina thought, What a marvelous human being. How wonderful that my brother found her.
“Time to pack up the day,” Matt said.
“Not yet,” Andrea said, and closed her eyes.
All three other adults followed suit, closing their eyes and giving in a little longer to the mellowness of an August day at the lake, so beautiful you could hardly breathe.
The clouds moved over the sky. They listened to the sounds of dogs in the distance, barking and scrapping, and kids screaming their joyousness.
Lake Tahoe lapped along the shore.
“I am in heaven,” Andrea said.
“Paradise,” said Paul.
They chatted
and dozed, and the time passed in a summer blur of lake, cloud, blue sky, and towering mountains.
“Mom?”
Nina awoke again to the sight of Bob, in his baggy swimsuit, hoisting a sand-encrusted inner tube.
“I’m cold.”
She blinked, looking around. Even in the summer, the lake changed every five minutes, and right now it had changed to something threatening.
“I saw lightning over Tallac,” Bob said. “Really bright.”
“Oh, that mountain is notorious for thunderstorms. Nothing to worry about.” She thought about the lightning strike up there, deaths. She didn’t pray often, but she hoped anyone up on that mountain was taking care.
Bob, his worries set aside, went off to find his cousins.
Nina nudged her fellow sleepers. “Time to go.”
Laden with dirty towels, baskets, and umbrellas, they began trudging toward the cars.
“We should make the kids help,” Andrea said, heaving a trash bag into the trunk of their car. “They need to learn—”
“Let them play,” Matt said, shutting the trunk. “How long does it last, this moment when the sun is going down, and the lake is driving us nuts with how pretty it is, and the sky’s strange and we love each other?” He put his arm around Andrea’s waist, and they walked back to the beach.
Paul put his arm around Nina’s waist. They walked behind Matt and Andrea back to the beach.
“Here’s a fallen tree,” Paul said. “Let’s sit here. See how bad the storm is. See how long the kids last. Before it’s dark.”
“Before it’s dark and we have to go home,” Nina said.
After the police left, Sondra’s employer, Riley Fox, called her into her office, asking her to please sit down on the new white leather Palermo love seat. Sondra sank down into the cushion, wondering why she had been called in. She thought through the past few weeks and couldn’t think of any mistakes she had made, but you never knew how another person really thought. You never knew how another person might judge the exact same situation. Maybe she had canceled a client that turned out to be the biggest, best case, but that would really surprise her. As always, she had evaluated recent clients the way she evaluated men, with a cool and thoughtful eye, and an acute nose for the nasty ones.
She had ferreted out a nasty one, hadn’t she? The sick wife, the compromised husband, all in cahoots with a greedy murderer. Well, she couldn’t exactly spell it out, but her boss had taken her hints and run with them. Surely she recognized Sondra’s part in solving the case?
“You continue to surprise and please me, Ms. Filoplume. You figured out what was going on before I did, and you gave me that lead. You had the guts to call in help when we needed it, when I wanted to go it alone. You know I have a lot of trouble with that guy, and I had resolved never to hire him again if I could avoid it. So”—Ms. Fox handed Sondra a glass of bubbling champagne and clinked it with her own—“a toast to you, Sondra. You saw how much trouble we were in, and you stepped right up to do something about it.”
“But I had nothing to do with Raul coming up here,” Sondra protested.
“Yes, he mentioned that you didn’t want him to tell me anything about your role. Ms. Filoplume, you are a humble woman, and I appreciate that, but I’m glad I know. He told me all about how you persuaded him to come and help us, even though I had done everything in my power to stop him.”
They sipped champagne for a moment, watching the ancient lake through the picture window as it ran through the rainbow colors of evening, a sight that always made Sondra’s heart soar.
“Oh, and I’ve got something else for you.” Ms. Fox reached into her desk and pulled out an envelope. “A bonus. It’s not enough, but it’s all we can give you, along with my undying gratitude and appreciation. And by the way, I wondered if I could come out to your ranch for a horseback riding lesson soon.”
Sondra nodded. It was about time Ms. Fox learned such a basic skill.
Sondra locked the door carefully behind her, knowing what she knew, and knowing when not to interfere, and knowing all’s well that ends with a big bonus.
The End
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The authors are indebted to Nancy Yost of Yost & Associates Literary Agency, who, with her usual wisdom and grace, played an especially critical role in the publishing process this time around; to Abby Zidle, our sharp new editor at Simon & Schuster, who showed great patience and discernment; to Louise Burke, our excellent publisher at Simon & Schuster, Inc., who has been kind enough to extend deadlines for us and has given us steady support; and to the many staffers at Simon & Schuster who worked on the book, including Tony Mauro, for such fine work on the cover art, and Steve Boldt, our skillful copy editor. We would also like to express our appreciation to Maggie Crawford, our previous editor at Simon & Schuster, who helped us tighten and organize the manuscript and was a valued adviser in an earlier stage of publication.
Many thanks to the following friends and family who supported us through the writing process with good humor and special encouragement: Andrew Fuller, Brad Snedecor, June Snedecor, Kevin Neal, Cori Snedecor, Katie Bedard, Connor Snedecor, Creda Wilson, Meg O’Shaughnessy, Stephanie O’Shaughnessy, Nita Piper, Beth Vieira, Jenny D’Angelo, Caroleena Epstein, Bruce Engel-hardt, Esther Bueno, Ardyth Brock, Steve Parker, Walt Kondrasheff, Kathy Choy, James Starshak, Sally Backus, Ann Wright, Dr. Ellen Taliaferro, Sylvia Walker, Frank Menke, Ann Walker, Dr. Ruth Bar-Shalom, Sandy Polakoff, Lynn Snedecor, Beverly Sheveland, Karen Snedecor, Elizanne Lewis, Joan Westlund, Joanna Tamer, Helga Gerdes, Hermann Gerdes, Pat Spindt, Ruth Dawson, Bill Dawson, and Jim Nicholas.
Table of Contents
Cover
Description
Back Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Contents
Prologue
Part One
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Part Two
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Part Three
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
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