All Night Long

of convincing McPherson to conduct a full-scale investigation were less than zero.
    “Give it some time, Irene,” Sam said. “I know it wasn’t easy, finding her like that.
    But when the shock wears off, you’ll realize that it really was an overdose, not a murder.”
    “Sure,” she said.
    Luke said nothing, just took her arm and steered her down the steps to the SUV He opened the passenger-side door. Irene climbed in swiftly.
    Luke got behind the wheel and drove out of the parking lot. Irene could see that every head in the Ventana View Cafe was turned in the direction of the SUV
    “Pack of ghouls,” she whispered.
    “Give em a break,” Luke said quietly. “This is a small town. The death of someone like Pamela Webb,
    a senator’s daughter and former local bad girl, is bound to grab everyone’s attention.”
    She gripped her shoulder bag very tightly in her lap. “They stared at me in exactly the same way at the funerals of my parents.”
    He gave her a quick, sharp, searching look before returning his attention to the road.
    “For what it’s worth,” he said after a while, “I think Me Pherson is right. Your friend’s death was eithe n accident or suicide.”
    “I’m not buying it.”
    “Yeah, I can see that. Give McPherson his due, though. He’s not cooperating in a cover-up. He laid out the facts for you. There’s nothing that warrants further investigation.”

    “There’s still that e-mail note she sent to me. How can he ignore that?”
    “He didn’t ignore it,” Luke said patiently. “Like Webb, he thinks that Pamela was planning suicide and going through a process of saying farewell to some of the people in her past.”
    “Then why didn’t she wait until after she had actually said good-bye to me before she killed herself?”
    “People who are planning to commit suicide don’t follow the same logic that the rest of us do. They’re focused on their own pain and suffering. That’s all they can grasp.”
    The too-even way he spoke sent a chill through her.
    “You sound as if you’ve had some personal experience with suicide,” she said.
    “My mother killed herself when I was six years old.”
    She closed her eyes briefly against a rush of sadness and sympathy. “Dear God, Luke.” She raised her lashes and looked at him. “I’m so sorry.”
    He nodded once, saying nothing.
    “Last night must have been especially bad for you,” she said.
    “It was my choice to follow you, remember?”
    She frowned. “Why
did
you follow me? You still haven’t explained that.”
    His mouth curved faintly. “When I see dots, I feel this overwhelming need to connect them.”
    “I’m a dot?”
    “Uh-huh.” He gave her a quick, assessing look and then shook his head, resigned.
    “You’re not going t et it go, are you?”
    “Pamela’s death? No.”
    “Mind if I ask why you’re so damn sure there’s a mystery here? Is it just that e-mail you got from Pamela? Or is there more to it?”

    She thought about that. “It’s a feeling I’ve got.”
    “A feeling.”
    “Yes.”
    “A feeling isn’t a lot to go on,” he said neutrally.
    “That’s almost funny considering it’s coming from someone who just admitted that he followed me last night because he sensed that I was a dot waiting to be connected to another dot.”
    “Okay, I’ll give you that one,” he conceded. “Moving right along, what was your take on Ryland Webb this morning? Think he believes there’s more to his daughter’s death than pills and booze and wants to cover it up?”
    She hesitated. “He certainly doesn’t want an investigation, does he?”
    “You may not like his reasons, but he does have a few.”
    “I know.” She folded her arms. “I told you, he’s an ambitious man, completely focused on his career. He didn’t have any time for Pamela seventeen years ago, and he sure doesn’t want to waste much time on her now.”
    “Listen to me, Irene Stenson. If you’re thinking of going up against Ryland Webb, you’d better be real sure you’ve got a big club. Webb is a powerful man.”
    “Don’t you think I know that?”
    Luke drove in silence for a while.
    “Sam McPherson knew Pamela fairly well, I take it?”
    The question caught her by surprise. “They were friends in the old days. I don’t know what their relationship has been like these past seventeen years, though.”
    “Ever have the feeling that he was romantically fixated on her?”
    She pondered that for a few seconds. “I