Divine Evil

that's all there is. I love you.” He tightened his grip when she would have turned away. “Damn it, that's one bit you're going to have to swallow once and for all. I love you, and I never expected to feel this way about anybody. But it's a fact.”
    “I know. If this could have happened without the rest—”
    “It happened. That's the bottom line. I want to know what you're going to do about it.”
    She put a hand on his cheek. “I guess I'm going to love you back. That's about all I can do right now.”
    “That'll be fine.” He kissed her. “I wish I could fix it for you.”
    “I'm old enough to fix things for myself. I'd rather have a friend than a white knight.”
    “How about a friend and a black sheep?”
    “It's a nice combination. I wasn't holding this back from you. I was,” she corrected before he could speak. “But I was holding it back from myself first. I need to go home and think things through. You'll want to keep the books?”
    “Yes. Clare …” He brushed the hair back from her cheeks. “We're going to need to talk again, to go over everything you remember in more detail.”
    “I was afraid you'd say that.”
    “Why don't we table it for tonight? What do you think about dinner at a Mexican restaurant? They've got pots and paper flowers.”
    “I think that sounds like a great idea. Can we take your bike?”
    “A woman after my own heart.”
    “I'll be ready by seven.” She went to the door, then stopped. “Rafferty, you made it easier than it might have been. I appreciate that.”
    Alone, he sat at the desk and studied his notes. He was afraid he wouldn't be able to make it easy for long.

Chapter 25
    M IN ATHERTON WAS THE KIND of woman who kept candles out for a centerpiece with the cellophane still wrapped around them. Almost everything she owned was for show and not for use. She would buy pink or purple candles—her favorite colors—and place them in the genuine brass or crystal holders, where they would stay snug in their clear wrap, never to be lit.
    She liked buying things. More, she liked being able to buy things—particularly things her neighbors couldn't afford. Often, she left the price tags on, hoping a guest would take a peek at the base of a vase or statuette. In their place, she would. And did.
    Min considered flaunting a responsibility. She was the mayor's wife, after all, and she had her stature to uphold. She knew they were the most well-to-do couple in town and her husband was devoted to her. Hadn't he bought her a pair of honest-to-God diamond earring clips just last Christmas? One-half carat each, too, counting the baguettes. Min showed them off at the Church of God every Sunday.
    She made certain her hair was tucked behind her ears and that she tilted her head from side to side as she solemnly sang the hymns so that the stones would catch the light—and the envy of the congregation.
    Her home was crowded with furniture. She didn't believe in antiques, no matter how expensive or valuable they might be. Min liked things new, brand spanking new, so that she was the first to use them. She only bought brand names. In that way she could talk about her La-Z-Boy, her Ethan Allen, or her Sealy Posturepedic as if they were members of the family.
    Some of the less charitable people of the community said it was a shame she didn't have less money and more taste.
    But Min recognized green-eyed jealousy when she saw it and hugged it to her like a medal of honor.
    She loved her big, rambling brick house on Laurel Lane and had decorated every inch of it herself, from the living room with its pink and lavender floral sofa and matching draperies, to the powder room with its wild rose ceramic tile and hyacinth wallpaper. She liked big statues of dancing ladies in ball gowns and men in waistcoats. All of her plants were plastic, but they were tucked into precious containers in the form of woolly sheep and cottontail rabbits.
    Min's creativity didn't stop with the interior. Goodness no. Many of the residents of Emmitsboro would never have the privilege of being invited inside the Atherton castle. Min felt they deserved some glimpses of the glamour within.
    She had her big striped umbrella table on the patio, with its matching chairs and chaise longue. Since real animals made such a mess, she substituted plastic and plasterones so that the yard was alive with ducks and squirrels and more sheep.
    In the front, opposite her pedestaled moon ball was her pride and joy, a