Brazen Virtue

because the murder had been committed in the house next to his? Because he knew the victim? Because he’d begun to have a few entertaining fantasies that involved the victim’s sister?
    With a half laugh, Ed dragged his damp hair away from his face and started downstairs. No, he didn’t think his feelings for Grace, whatever they were, had anything to do with the fact that instinct told him there was something nastier about this than was already apparent.

    Maybe it was close, but he’d lost people who had been a great deal closer to him than Kathleen Breezewood. People he’d worked with, people whose families were familiar to him. Their deaths had left him feeling angry and frustrated, but not edgy.
    Dammit, he’d feel better if she were out of that house.
    He walked to the kitchen. He was more comfortable in the room he’d redesigned and rebuilt with his own hands. With his mind on other things, he pulled over a basket of fruit to chop for a salad. He worked briskly, as a man who’d been fending for himself, and fending well, for most of his life.
    A great many of the men he knew satisfied themselves by settling for a can or a frozen dinner eaten over the sink. To Ed that was the most depressing act of single life. The microwave had made it even more so. You could buy a complete meal in a box, zap it for five minutes, and eat it without using a pan or a plate. Neat, convenient, and lonely.
    He often ate alone, with only a book for company, but he did more than watch his cholesterol and carbohydrates. It was all a matter of attitude, he’d decided long ago. Real plates and a table made the difference between a solitary meal and a lonely one.
    He dropped some carrots and celery into his juicer and let them whirl through. The knock at his back door surprised him. Ben used the back way occasionally, but he never knocked. Partners and spouses developed similiar intimacies. Ed switched off the machine, then grabbed a dishcloth for his hands before answering.
    “Hi.” Grace gave him a quick smile but kept her hands in her pockets. “I saw the light, so I hopped over the fence.”
    “Come on in.”

    “I hope you don’t mind. Neighbors can be a pain.” She stepped into the kitchen and felt solid and safe for the first time in hours. She’d told herself she’d come to ask the questions that had to be asked, but knew she’d come just as much for comfort. “I’m messing up your dinner. Listen, I’ll run along.”
    “Sit down, Grace.”
    She nodded, grateful, and promised herself she wouldn’t weep or rage. “My parents went to church. I didn’t realize how I’d feel about being alone over there.” She sat, moving her hands from her lap to the table, then back to her lap. “I want to thank you for pushing through the paperwork or whatever. I’m not sure my parents could get through another day without, well, seeing Kath.” She shifted her hands to the table again. “Don’t let me hold up your dinner, okay?”
    He realized he could stay happy for several hours just looking at her. When he caught himself staring, he started to fuss with the salad. “Are you hungry?”
    She shook her head and nearly managed to smile again. “We ate before. I figured the only way to get my parents to eat was to set the example. It’s funny how something like this will have you switching roles. What’s that?” She glanced at the glass Ed set on the table.
    “It’s carrot juice. Want some?”
    “You drink carrots?” It was a small thing, but enough to pull out what passed for a laugh. “Got a beer?”
    “Sure.” He pulled one out of the fridge, remembered a glass, then put both down in front of her. When he dug an ashtray out of a kitchen drawer, she shot him a look of profound gratitude.
    “You’re a pal, Ed.”
    “Yeah. You need any help tomorrow?”
    “I think we’ll manage.” Grace ignored the glass and drank straight from the bottle. “I’m sorry, but I have to ask you if you found out anything.”
    “No. We’re still in the preliminary stages, Grace. It takes time.”

    Though she nodded, she knew as well as he that time was the enemy. “Jonathan’s in town. Will you question him?”
    “Yes.”
    “I mean you.” She took out a cigarette as he sat across from her. “I’m sure you’ve got a lot of good cops in your department, but can you do it?”
    “All right.”
    “He’s hiding something, Ed.” When he said nothing, she picked up her beer again. It would do her no good to