Love Can Be Murder

report a month ago"), Carlotta's name ("questioned in connection to widespread looting in the host's home during the party"), and Hannah's name ("reportedly assaulted a guest and held other guests hostage"). The article stipulated that no charges had been filed and hinted that it was due in part to "Goodman's unexplained association with Atlanta socialite, Beckham Underwood."
    She closed the paper with a crunch just as Beck walked back in the front door. "That guy won't be bothering you anymore," he said.
    "What did you do?"
    "Smashed his camera."
    She held out the paper. "You might want to read this before you do anything else on my behalf." She jerked a thumb toward the bathroom. "I'm going to take a shower. If you're gone when I come out, I'll understand."
    He gave her a pointed look. "I thought we were going to talk."
    "Oh." She tried to smile. "Right. I'll hurry."
    She closed the door behind her and stripped off the offensive sweat suit, tossing it into a heap in the floor. Beck's towel was draped neatly over the shower-curtain rod. She withdrew a fresh towel from a tiny closet, then stepped under the shower spray and adjusted the head back down to her level. Her skin tingled at the intimacy of sharing a bathroom with Beck, and her mind reeled at the series of events that had brought them together in this—how had the newspaper worded it?—"unexplained association."
    Protecting her bandaged hand from the water as much as possible, she scrubbed her hair and skin, then toweled off and shrugged into a long terry robe to make the dash to her bedroom to dress. When she opened the door, the smell of strong coffee reached her, as well as the sounds of cooking. She poked her head around the corner to see Beck, his back to her, tending to something on the stove that smelled wonderful. At least the article hadn't scared him off. He caught sight of her and waved her forward. "I made grilled cheese and tomato sandwiches—hope that's okay."
    Jolie's stomach growled and she nodded. "Let me change."
    "You're okay," he said. "Let's eat while the food is hot."
    If he was so nonchalant about her being in a state of near undress, she didn't want to overreact. She joined him in the kitchen nook and withdrew plates and napkins from the cabinets, maneuvering around him with an ease that belied their impending discussion. A few minutes later they were settled at the rectangular plain maple table that doubled as her desk, sharing the space with her desktop computer. The chairs were mismatched, a collection of odds and ends from her parents' home that she'd painted white. Beck claimed a chair, seemingly unaware that he looked out of place in the quaint domestic scene.
    Jolie sipped the coffee, murmuring in appreciation when the warm liquid spread through her. She waited until she had eaten one sandwich and Beck had eaten two before she said, "I guess you read the article."
    He nodded. "Want to fill in the holes?"
    She set down her cup and retold the story, starting from when Gary had first disappeared.
    "So the day I first met you, the detective had come to tell you about Hagan's car being recovered from the river?"
    "Right." Then she told him about agreeing to attend the party with Carlotta on the chance she'd meet someone who had known Gary. "I didn't know we had crashed until we were already there," she felt compelled to explain, then realized the ridiculousness of minding that she'd been labeled a party-crasher in the larger scheme of things.
    "I recognized Roger LeMon from a picture I found in one of Gary's photo albums. And later, Kyle Coffee."
    "Do you have the photo?" Beck asked.
    She nodded and rifled through papers next to her computer until she found it. "That's Gary next to LeMon, and Coffee is in the middle."
    When Beck looked at the photo, he blinked.
    "Do you recognize someone?" she asked.
    He glanced up. "Besides Russell Island?"
    She frowned. "Hannah's boyfriend? Let me see."
    He pointed. "Different hair and he was heavier, but that's him. And that's his wife next to him."
    She gasped. "So there were two more people at the party who knew Gary. Is the woman next to LeMon his wife?"
    He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "I never met his wife."
    "How about the woman standing next to Kyle Coffee?"
    "I don't know her either."
    "Do you know the fifth man?"
    He studied the picture, then rubbed his hand over his mouth. "I've seen him before. I want to say his name is Gordon something."
    Jolie's head whipped around. "Gordon?"