Four Blind Mice

could it do?
    “That’s a fine idea. I’d like to have dinner at the house. What time should I come by?”
    “Whatever suits you is fine. It’s nothing fancy, Detective. I’ll start up the grill as soon as you arrive.”
    “How about an hour? Is that all right? I’m John, by the way. Not ‘Detective.’”
    “I think you told me that. You already know I’m Billie, and if you don’t mind, I prefer that to Mrs. Houston. I’ll see you in about an hour.”
    She hung up, and Sampson held on to the receiver for another few seconds. Now that he thought about it, dinner with Billie Houston didn’t seem like a bad idea. He was looking forward to it as he stepped out of his clothes and headed for the shower.
    Nothing fancy
sounded pretty good.

Chapter 54
    SAMPSON PICKED UP a small bouquet of flowers and a bottle of red at Central Market in Bay Head. As he got to the beach house, he wondered if he was overdoing it.
Flowers? Wine? What is going on here?
    Was he feeling guilty about the fact that this woman’s husband might have been murdered? Or that she was a widow before her time? Or did it have something to do with Ellis Cooper? Or was this just about Billie Houston and himself?
    He went round to the screen door that led into the kitchen of the beach house. He rapped his knuckles lightly on the wooden frame.
    “Hi? Billie?” he called out.
    Billie? Is that how he should be talking to her?
    He had no idea why, but he was concerned for her safety. Why? No one would want to hurt Billie Houston now, would they? Still, he felt what he felt. The real killers were out there somewhere. Why not here in New Jersey?
    “Door’s open. C’mon in,” she called. “I’m out here on the porch.”
    He went in through the kitchen and saw her setting a small dining table on the open front porch facing the ocean. Beautiful spot for dinner. Adirondack chairs spaced along the porch. A wicker rocker painted navy blue to match the shutters.
    He could see the ocean over the top of the dunes and the constantly waving sea grass.
    But his eyes went back to her. She had on a crisp white shirt with faded Levis, no shoes again. Her hair was clipped back in a ponytail. She’d put on a little lipstick, just a touch.
    “Hi there. I thought that we’d eat out here. It’s not too cold for you, is it?” she asked with a wink.
    Sampson stepped out onto a spacious wooden porch. The breeze was coming off the ocean, but it was comfortable on the porch. He could smell the ocean, but also sea lavender and asters in the air.
    “It’s just about perfect,” he said. That was true. The temperature was just right, and so was the table she’d set, and the view of the ocean was definitely something else. There sure wasn’t anything like this in Southeast D.C.
    “Let me do something to help,” he said.
    “Good idea. You can chop vegetables and finish up the salad. Or you can cook on the grill.”
    Sampson found himself smiling. “Not much of a choice there. I’ll do the salad. Nah, I’m kidding. I’d be happy to grill. Just as long as I don’t have to wear a hat or apron with a snappy slogan on it.”
    She laughed. “Don’t have any of those. You passed a CD player on your way from the kitchen. I left a bunch of CDs out. Pick what you like.”
    “This a test?” he asked.
    Billie laughed again. “No, you already passed all your tests. That’s why I asked you to supper. Stop worrying about me and you. We won’t break. This is going to be fun. Better than you think.”

Chapter 55
    SHE WAS RIGHT about the night being special. It embarrassed him, but he just about forgot Ellis Cooper for a few hours. Sampson was usually quiet unless he knew somebody pretty well. Part of it was shyness, because he’d always been so tall and stood out in every social group. But he was honest enough with himself to know he didn’t want to waste time on people who didn’t mean anything to him, and never would.
    Billie was different and he knew it, from the first time she spoke to him. The surprising thing about her was that he liked hearing her talk about anything. Her daily routine in Mantoloking; her two grown children, Andrew, a freshman at Rutgers, Kari, a senior at Monmouth High; the ocean tides and how they affected surf casting for blues; half a dozen other things. In addition to the house-sitting, she still worked full-time as a nurse. She was in the Emergency Clinic and specialized in adult trauma. She’d flown in medevac helicopters to the