Birthright

said were coming back to haunt her.
    The dog went barreling by her as she lifted the hamper to her hip. He set up a din of barks, attacking the front door seconds before someone knocked. “All right, all right, now stop!” She gave his collar a tug with her free hand to pull him down on his haunches. “I mean it.”
    Even as she reached for the door, Tyler came streaking down the steps. “Who is it? Who is it?”
    “I don’t know. My X-ray vision must be on the blink.”
    “Mommy!” He fell on the dog, in a giggling fit.
    Lana opened the door. She blinked at Doug as both Tyler and the dog flew at him.
    “Stop it! Elmer, down! Tyler, behave yourself.”
    “I got him.” To Tyler’s delight, Doug scooped him up under his arm like a football. “Looks like they’re trying to make a break for it.” Holding the squealing boy, he reached down to rub the black-and-white dog between the ears. “Elmer? Is that Fudd or Gantry?”
    “Fudd,” Lana managed. “Ty loves Bugs Bunny cartoons. Oh, Doug, I’m so sorry. I completely forgot about tonight.”
    “Hear that?” He turned Ty so the boy could grin up at him. “That’s the sound of my ego shattering.”
    “I don’t hear nothing.”
    “Anything,” Lana corrected. “Please, come in. I’m just a little turned around.”
    “You look pretty.”
    “Ha. I can’t imagine.”
    She was wearing shorts, petal pink ones cuffed at the hem, and a pink-and-white striped T-shirt. There were white canvas shoes on her feet and little gold studs in her earlobes. She’d clipped her hair back at the nape. And automatically reached back to make sure it was in place.
    She looked, he thought, like a particularly delectable candy cane.
    “Question. Do you always coordinate your outfit for laundry day?”
    “Naturally. Ty, would you do me a favor? Would you take Elmer up to your room for a few minutes?”
    “Can I show him my room?”
    “He’s Mr. Cullen. And maybe later. Just take Elmer up for now.”
    Doug set Ty on his feet. “Nice place,” he said as Tyler dragged his feet up the stairs with the dog in tow.
    “Thanks.” She looked distractedly around the now spotless living room with its pale green walls and simple child-resistant crate furniture. “Doug, I really am sorry. It just went out of my mind. Everything did after I heard about Ron Dolan. I just can’t get past it.”
    “Something like this has everybody in town in shock.”
    “I was horrible to him.” Her voice broke as she set the clothes basket on the coffee table. “Just horrible. He wasn’t a bad man. I know that, knew that. But he was an adversary, so I had to think of him as bad. That’s how I work. You’re the enemy, and I’ll do whatever it takes to win. But he was a decent man, with a wife, children, grandchildren. He believed he was right as much as I—”
    “Hey.” He put his hands on her shoulders, turned her around. “Unless you want to confess to going out to Simon’s Hole and bashing him over the head, it isn’t your fault. Beating yourself up over doing your job doesn’t accomplish anything.”
    “But isn’t it awful that I can think better of him dead than I did alive? What does that say about me?”
    “That you’re not a saint and that you need to get out of here for a while. So let’s go.”
    “I can’t.” She lifted her hands in a helpless gesture. “I’m not good company. I don’t have a sitter. I—”
    “Bring the kid. He’ll like what I had in mind anyway.”
    “Bring Ty? You want to bring Tyler?”
    “Unless you don’t think he’d enjoy going to see a tripleX feature. But my opinion is, you can never start your sexual explorations too soon.”
    “He already has his own video collection,” she replied. “You’re right, I would like to get out awhile. Thanks. I’ll run up and change.”
    “You’re fine.” He grabbed her hand, pulled her to the base of the steps. No possible way he was letting her change out of those little pink shorts. “Hey, Ty-Rex! Come on, we’re going out.”
    T he last place Lana expected to spend her Saturday night was in a batting cage. The amusement center boasted three, and three more for children under twelve. It also held a miniature golf course, an ice-cream parlor and a driving range. It was noisy, crowded and thick with overstimulated children.
    “No, no, you don’t want to club somebody with it. You just want to meet the ball.” Behind her, Doug leaned in, covered the hands she gripped on the