Rizzoli & Isles 8-Book Set

And now we have an excuse to order
two
bottles of wine at dinner,” he said. “Stick with us, Maura, and I guarantee a good time, especially when Doug’s in charge.” He leaned in and whispered: “I can vouch for his moral character. I’ve done his taxes for years, and if anyone knows your most intimate secrets, it’s your accountant.”
    “What’re you two whispering about?” asked Doug.
    Arlo looked up innocently. “Just saying that the jury was
totally
rigged against you. They should never have convicted.”
    Maura burst out laughing. Yes, she liked this friend of Doug’s.
    But she wasn’t as sure about Elaine Salinger. Though the woman had sat smiling during the conversation, it was a tight smile. Everything about Elaine somehow seemed tight, from her skin-hugging black ski pants to her eerily unlined face. She was about Maura’s age and height, and model-thin, with a waistline to envy and the self-control to maintain it. While Doug, Maura, and Arlo split a bottle of wine, Elaine sipped only mineral water garnished with a slice of lime, and she virtuously shunned the bowl of nuts that Arlo was so enthusiastically digging in to. Maura could not see what these two had in common; she certainly could not imagine them dating.
    Doug’s daughter, Grace, was yet another puzzle. He had described his ex-wife as a beauty, and her fortunate genes had clearly been passed on to the daughter. At thirteen, Grace was already stunning, a leggy blonde with arching brows and crystalline blue eyes. But it was a remote beauty, cool and uninviting. The girl had contributed scarcely a word to the conversation. Instead she’d sat with her iPod earpieces stubbornly in place. Now she gave a dramatic sigh and uncurled her lanky body from the chair.
    “Dad, can I go back to my room now?”
    “Come on, sweetie, hang around,” urged Doug. “We can’t be all that boring.”
    “I’m tired.”
    “You’re only thirteen,” Arlo teased. “At your age, you should be raring to rock-and-roll with us.”
    “It’s not like you all need me here.”
    Doug frowned at her iPod, noticing it for the first time. “Turn that off, okay? Try joining the conversation.”
    The girl shot him a look of pure teenage disdain and slouched back in her chair.
    “… so I scoped out all the possible restaurants in the area, and there’s nothing worth stopping for,” Arlo said. He popped another handful of nuts into his mouth and wiped the salt from his pudgy hands. He took off his glasses and wiped them as well. “I think weshould just go straight to the lodge and eat lunch there. At least they have steak on the menu. How hard is it to cook a decent steak?”
    “We just had dinner, Arlo,” said Elaine. “I can’t believe you’re already thinking about tomorrow’s lunch.”
    “You know me, I’m a planner. Like to get my ducks all in a row.”
    “Especially if they’re glazed with orange sauce.”
    “Dad,” whined Grace. “I’m
really
tired. I’m going to bed, okay?”
    “Oh, all right,” Doug said. “But I want you up by seven. I’d like to be loaded up and ready to leave by eight.”
    “I think we should be off to bed, too,” said Arlo. He stood, brushing crumbs off his shirt. “Come on, Elaine.”
    “It’s only nine thirty.”
    “Elaine,” Arlo repeated, and tipped his head meaningfully at Maura and Doug.
    “Oh.” Elaine cast a speculative glance at Maura, then rose to her feet, lithe as a cheetah. “It’s been nice getting to know you, Maura,” she said. “See you in the morning.”
    Doug waited for the trio to leave, then said to Maura: “I’m sorry that Grace was such a pill.”
    “She’s a beautiful girl, Doug.”
    “She’s also got a good head on her shoulders. An IQ of a hundred thirty. Not that you could see it tonight. She’s not usually this quiet.”
    “Maybe it’s because I’m coming along. She may not be happy about it.”
    “Don’t even think that, Maura. If she has a problem, she’ll just have to deal with it.”
    “If my coming along feels awkward in any way—”
    “Does it? To you?” His gaze was so probing, she felt compelled to tell the truth.
    “A little,” she admitted.
    “She’s thirteen. Everything about thirteen-year-olds is awkward.I refuse to let that dictate my life.” He lifted his glass. “So here’s to our adventure!”
    She returned the toast, and they sipped, grinning at each other. In the flattering gloom of the cocktail lounge, he looked like that