Murder Deja Vu

good time fishing and just kicking back. He got sick shortly after that.”
    “How long was he in prison?”
    “A little more than twenty years.”
    “For what?”
    “Murder. He killed a man with his bare hands.” Reece glanced at her to see her reaction. She showed no sign of shock. Dana kept surprising him. Years of marriage to Minette had made her as resilient as Reece first thought. “It wasn’t premeditated, but it wasn’t accidental either.”
    They got out of the car, stiff and tired. Reece tensed, waiting for someone to pounce on him, but no one did. He noted the foul smell in the air. “What on earth is that?”
    “Smells like rotten eggs.”
    He’d have thought a building in proximity to the ocean would have been more luxurious, but the smell probably kept what would be considered prime coastal real estate anywhere else from being that.
    They climbed a few steps and opened the door, climbed a few more to a bank of mailboxes and doorbells. Reece found Vance and pressed the button. A female voice over the intercom asked who was there. Reece said his name. The door buzzed. It opened when he pushed against it.
    A woman stood inside the door on the first floor. It looked like four apartments shared the floor—one across the hall and two more on each side halfway down. Reece took Dana’s hand. “You okay with this?”
    “This is hardly the time to ask, is it? What if I said I wasn’t?”
    He looked at her and caught her smile. “Right. Stupid question. We’re here, and there’s no place else to go.”
    “Exactly.”
    The woman waiting near the open door stood slightly taller than Dana, but sturdy where Dana was slight.
    “Reece? I’m Lana. Nice to meet you at last. Come in.”
    He took her hand. “The pleasure’s mine. This is Dana.” The two women shook hands.
    The fragrant aroma of roasted meat and garlic wafted through the apartment, reminding Reece he hadn’t eaten since lunch. Dana felt the same as she sniffed the air with raised brows.
    Lana led them through a short hall to the living room. The room appeared clean and neat, the furniture comfortably worn but not shabby. Frank Vance sat in a recliner with an oxygen tank off to the side. Books covered two tables and more filled a makeshift bookshelf lining one wall. Reece struggled to rein in his reaction to seeing his old friend’s skeletal form.
    “I know, I know,” Frank said. “I look like shit.”
    Reece heard the familiar voice, as if his vocal chords had been mixed with gravel, the result of the mean scar that cut horizontally across his throat. “Shit might be honey-coating it.”
    “Jesus Christ, can’t you ever shade the truth?” Frank pushed himself to his feet, not without effort.
    “Don’t get up on my account.” Reece bear-hugged him, feeling nothing but bones under Frank’s oversized clothes. A giant lump formed in Reece’s throat that would translate to visible emotion if he didn’t force himself to hold back. He whispered in his ear, “I’d ask how you were doing, but I don’t have to.”
    “Yeah, well, I’m not dead yet. Fucking cigarettes. Should’ve quit a long time ago, but you know how it is in the can. Not much fun if you have to give up all your vices.”
    Reece backed away and motioned Dana forward and introduced them.
    Frank offered a bony hand, and Dana took it. “She’s a pretty one.” He turned to Dana. “How’d you get involved with this geek?”
    “Lucky, I guess.”
    Frank’s laugh turned into a hacking cough, and he sank into his recliner, exhausted from the exertion.
    Reece stooped in front of him. “Take it easy, friend.”
    Lana brought the nasal cannula to his nose, but Frank pushed it away. “You’ve met Svetlana. Call her Lana. Hmm, interesting. Lana, Dana. One letter off, though spoken differently. Must mean something. What do you say, Reece? Coincidence?”
    “Kismet,” Reece said.
    “Yes, kismet.” Frank pulled Lana to sit on the arm of his chair. “Lana’s my nurse, my caretaker, the best cook this side of the Ukraine, and,” he looked at her with what could only be described as adoration, “the love of my life. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”
    Reece saw true affection pass between them, and the lump in his throat grew.
    “Now I have the two people who saved my life in one room at the same time.” He lifted Lana’s palm to his lips and kissed it. “Do you know the story, Dana?”
    “No, I—”
    “Not now,” Reece said.
    “Modest,