Smoke in Mirrors

earlier. They hadn’t been holding hands, but there had been a sense of intimacy that seemed new in their relationship.
    “May have been the apple pie,” he said. He picked up a screwdriver. “Deke loves the stuff. Especially with ice cream. The lasagna was terrific, too, by the way.”
    “Glad you enjoyed it.”
    “Haven’t had homemade lasagna that good in years.” He jiggled the lever delicately a bit to reseat it. “Mostly I buy the frozen kind when I get a hankering for it.”
    She folded her arms and propped one shoulder against the door jamb. “I have to tell you, I got a little worried there when you mentioned that Bethany wasn’t exactly the nurturing type. I wasn’t sure how Deke would react.”
    “Neither was I,” he admitted. “But sometimes I get fed up listening to him talk about her as if she was a saint.”
    “I also got the feeling that his rush to defend her memory tonight came more from habit than unresolved grief.”
    “He’s changing. Moving forward, I think.” He went down on one knee, reached into the open cabinet and turned on the valves that controlled the water supply. “I just hope that he doesn’t slide backward again if we don’t get some final answers.”

    “I don’t think that will happen. He’s starting to focus on Cassie. That’s a big step.”
    “Yeah.” He got back to his feet and turned on the faucet. There was some sputtering and coughing, but the old pipes were sturdy. After a moment water flowed steadily. “You really think this old math department secretary will be able to tell us anything useful?”
    “Who knows? Worth a try.”
    “If you say so.” He shut off the water.
    They both gazed steadily at the faucet for a time. No drips.
    “My,” Leonora said in tones of near-reverent awe. “You are good. You are extraordinary .”
    “What can I say? It’s a gift.”
    She smiled at him in the mirror. “I believe it.”
    He looked at her reflected image. There was a graceful, seductive curve to her body as she lounged there in the doorway behind him. Her eyes were warm and deep and mysterious.
    “Got anything else that needs adjusting?” he asked.
    “Now that you mention it, I believe I do have another home improvement project that could benefit from an expert application of your tools.”
    He twirled the gleaming adjustable wrench with the practiced skill of an Old West gunfighter. “Lead me to it.”
    “This way.”
    She turned and drew him down the hall into the shadows of the bedroom.

    An hour and a half later he went out onto her front porch and inhaled the chilled, damp night. Another wave of fog had crept up off the dark waters of the Sound, shroudingthe footpath. The low lamps spaced at intervals along the route glowed dimly.
    He looked at Leonora, who stood on the threshold. She was draped in a thick robe, her hair loose and tumbled around her face. She was squinting ever so slightly. She had left her glasses on the nightstand.
    “Good night.” She kissed him on the mouth.
    “Night.”
    He kissed her back, not lightly, the way she had kissed him. He wanted to leave an impression. Give her something to think about when she got back into the warm, mussed bed that he had just vacated.

    “Good party?” the stranger asked.
    Brett Conway staggered to a halt and tried to focus. The guy had freaked him out, materializing out of the fog and the darkness like that. He hadn’t heard anyone else on the footpath.
    The stranger looked weird. He was dressed in black and he had a ski mask on over his face. It was cold, Brett thought, but not that cold.
    “Party was okay,” Brett muttered.
    It had been a good party. Plenty of booze and some pot. But none of the girls had shown any interest in him. Just as well. He was feeling a little sick. Wouldn’t take much to make him hurl straight into the cove.
    “You don’t look so good,” the stranger said.
    “Too much beer. I’ll be okay.”
    “I’ve got something that will make you feel a lot better in a hurry.” The stranger held out his gloved hand, palm up. “Try it. You’ll like it.”
    Brett looked at the little package. “What is it?”
    “Smoke and Mirrors.”

    A thrill shot through him. He forgot about his uneasy stomach. “No shit? The real thing?”
    “The real thing.”
    “Heard the rumors. But no one I know has been able to get any.”
    “Be the first on your block.”
    Wariness returned. “How much? I haven’t got more than twenty or thirty bucks on