Love Can Be Murder

to speak.
    "Would you like a cup of coffee?"
    Jolie shook her head.
    "I'm going to get a cup, why don't you grab us a table?"
    Another delay. Jolie found a table for two away from the din and studied what looked to be cookie crumbs left from the previous occupant. It was a trick she'd learned: Focusing on mundane details allowed her to get through difficult times because they were reminders that life went on. No matter what the detective had to say, life would go on. Tomorrow someone else would be sitting here, maybe falling in love for the first time, or contemplating what to cook for dinner. And Gary would either be dead or alive.
    "Here you go," Detective Salyers said, sliding a cup of caramel-colored coffee in front of her. The woman smiled. "I thought you might change your mind."
    Jolie thanked her.
    The detective claimed the opposite seat. "Ms. Goodman, you're a difficult woman to track down. You weren't home, and we have your employer listed as the Sanders Agency."
    "I left there a couple of weeks ago."
    "We contacted the woman you had listed as your closest relative on the missing person's report you filed on Gary Hagan—a Leann Renaldi in Jacksonville?"
    "Yes, she's a good friend." And she was probably frantic by now.
    "She told us where we could find you."
    Jolie sipped the coffee, flinching when the scalding liquid hit her tongue. "Did you find Gary?" she blurted. "Is he alive?"
    Detective Salyers sat forward, her long, dark fingers wrapped around the paper cup. "No. And we don't know."
    Jolie heaved a sigh of relief and frustration. "What's this all about then?"
    "We found your boyfriend's car."
    "His Mercedes? Where?"
    "In the Chattahoochee River."
    Jolie's heart jerked. "In the river? Where?"
    "Near Roswell." The detective wet her lips. "And we found a body inside."
    Jolie inhaled against the sharp pain in her chest and covered her mouth with her hand. "I thought you said—"
    "It's not Mr. Hagan. It's...a woman. Belted into the passenger seat."
    Jolie's mind spun in confusion. "A woman? Who?"
    "The body hasn't yet been identified. I was hoping you could give us some idea who it might be. She's Caucasian, dark hair."
    Jolie shook her head, trying to make sense of what the woman was saying. "I don't...I can't...think..."
    "His sister?"
    "No. Gary was— is an only child."
    "Mother?"
    "She's deceased. As well as Gary's father."
    "Business associate? Secretary, maybe."
    Jolie shook her head. "Gary worked for himself and he worked alone."
    Detective Salyers sipped from her coffee cup. "Perhaps an old girlfriend?"
    Jolie bit her lip and closed her eyes briefly. Nothing about this situation sounded sane. A woman was dead...in Gary's car. He was missing...and so was her own car. She hadn't wanted to believe that Gary had stolen her car, couldn't imagine why he would have needed it. But now....
    "I don't know any of Gary's old girlfriends." She touched her temple. "Although he did mention once that he'd had problem with a girl he'd dated."
    "What kind of problem?"
    She frowned, trying to remember. "It was an offhand comment about a fatal attraction."
    Salyers looked interested. "Did he mention a name?"
    "No. You'd have to talk to his friends."
    "You're my first stop. Since you filed the missing persons report, I assumed you two were close."
    Jolie paused, wondering how she could best describe her relationship with Gary. Friendly lovers? Loverly friends? "We dated, but Gary kept company in high social circles. I never met any of his friends."
    "You didn't find that to be suspicious?"
    She could feel the older woman's censure. "I got the feeling that he wanted to keep that part of his life separate."
    "You mean, that he was ashamed of you?"
    Anger sparked in Jolie's stomach. "Actually, I thought he might be ashamed of them ."
    Salyers put pen to paper. "I need names."
    Jolie shook her head. "I'd tell you if I knew any, but I don't."
    The detective pursed her mouth and withdrew a notebook. "Would you mind if we started from the beginning? I inherited this case, and I'd like to get some fresh notes now that we have a new lead."
    Jolie shrugged, suddenly very glad for the coffee.
    "Your boyfriend's name is Gary Hagan—H-A-G-A-N, right?"
    "Yes."
    "When was the last time you saw Mr. Hagan?"
    "A month ago, September tenth."
    "Do you remember what day of the week that was?"
    "Friday."
    "What was he doing the last time you saw him?"
    "He dropped me off at my apartment around eight thirty."
    "And was headed where? Do