Dead In The Water (Rebecca Schwartz Mystery #4) (The Rebecca Schwartz Series)

prissy could I get? I wanted to rip his clothes off. I wanted to see his body in candlelight and kiss every inch of it.
    But that wasn’t the half of it. I could have handled that.
    I was starting to fall in love with him. I thought maybe that was what I was afraid of—what with Rob still calling, Marty flipping out at the mention of his name, a tiny little thing like two murders, and the fact that I’d barely known him thirty hours. Was that possible? Only thirty hours? I shuddered, realizing how strongly I felt about the man.
    I tossed and turned and kicked at the covers, angry at myself, and angry at fairy tales that never mention love can make you angry.
    Just when I thought I’d never get to sleep, the phone woke me up.
    “So how’s the little mom? The kids were too much for you, were they? Marty said you’d turned tail.”
    I rubbed my eyes. “Rob?”
    “You were expecting Prince Charles?”
    “It’s seven a.m.; do you care at all?”
    “Oh, sorry. I can never get it straight about the time difference.”
    “Listen, could you call back later?”
    “Sure. But listen. Could you get me up-to-date on the case? I know this sounds weird, but I’m doing a story for the
Boston Globe
. There was another murder, huh? Did Marty do it?”
    “I’ll call you back,” I said, slammed down the phone, and then took it off the hook again—I knew Rob; he’d call back.
    Why hadn’t I ever noticed how inconsiderate he could be? Julio would never be like that.
    The worry wart tapped me on the shoulder again: “Rebecca, dear? In a pig’s eye.”
    However, he hadn’t been yet, so I fantasized about him while dropping back to sleep. It was a nice quiet revenge that didn’t hurt anybody.
    Two hours later, after a croissant and coffee, I took a cab out to the airport, rented a car, and drove to Marty’s. Libby met me at the door with so many hugs and kisses it would have been worth the trip even if Marty had thrown me out.
    But her mom was all smiles. “Rebecca. I was going to call you. I’m really sorry I got upset—I mean, I
was
upset—that’s why I yelled at you.”
    “I wanted to talk things over with you.”
    “Coffee?”
    “Sure.”
    She gave me the cup with the whale’s tail and we sat at her kitchen table. She was wearing shorts and T-shirt.
    “You aren’t going to work today?”
    “I’m taking a couple of days off—until the board meets again. I think there’s a good chance they’ll reconsider their decision about Warren, and I thought I’d take it easy—spend some time with my kids—since I’ll be going back to a different job.”
    “You sound pretty confident.”
    “I was always the first choice, I’m sure. But my being in jail was a problem.” She smiled as if it were the best thing that ever happened to her.
    “I don’t think it was a problem—it let you manipulate your way into what you wanted.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “I understand you’re seeing Jim Lambert.”
    “What is this? Don called this morning and accused me of the same thing.”
    “It’s a small town, Marty.”
    She drew herself up, as if suddenly remembering to feel insulted. “What did you come here for?”
    “I wanted to find out why you got so excited when I mentioned Julio’s name.”
    “Rebecca, I wasn’t in the best of moods.”
    “But what set you off about him? Are you seeing him, too?”
    “What business is it of yours?”
    “I guess I may as well be honest—I’m interested in him myself.”
    “You bitch!”
    “Wait a minute. We’ve been that route. You don’t like the idea of my seeing Julio. Why?”
    She frowned, confused. She said, “Good question,” back in cucumber mode. She thought a moment. “I guess I keep thinking he’ll come around.”
    I hoped my inward sigh of relief wasn’t audible.
    I thought I was beginning to see what made her tick emotionally. “Can I ask you another question?”
    “Why not?”
    “Were you in love with Don?”
    She smiled and sipped coffee to cover her discomfort. “I guess not.”
    “You know, I really thought you were upset that night in San Francisco. Just a little out of touch with your feelings.”
    “I was upset!” As if to prove it, she showed me eyes brimming with tears. “I really miss him.”
    I could bet she did—like she’d miss any cherished possession. I thought when she lost her cool was when things went out of control, a docile husband falling for someone else, a boss—a person in a position to do Marty