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they had grown up next door to each other feeling more like sisters than cousins, Leigh loved her enough to get over it.
    Mostly.
    "Of course he left the church," Cara responded, her voice cracking a bit. "But he didn't come home. At least not right away. He was really angry—he didn't want the kids to see him that way. So he drove to North Park and walked it off. He didn't get back here until around ten, and I have no idea when Brandon— Well, when it happened, but..." Her voice wavered; her beautiful blue-green eyes grew misty. "Leigh, what if no one saw Gil at the park?"
    Leigh's own stomach gave a flutter of panic, but she stifled it by gathering her cousin up in a hug. Her own bad luck in matters of police record was epic; but there was no reason to fear it had rubbed off on Gil. The man practically had Lady Luck grafted on his shoulder. He was blond, hazel-eyed, tall, gorgeous, and a self-made millionaire; and he was married to Cara and had two wonderful children. He might not have the sense of humor God gave a vacuum bag, but no one else seemed to notice that.
    "They're not going to find any evidence against Gil," Leigh assured. "Someone else murdered Brandon, and that's who the evidence is going to point to. Maura and the other detectives know their stuff. Don't worry."
    Cara drew back and smiled slightly, her eyes a mixed bag of gratitude and sympathy. The topic of false arrest was a touchy one in present company.
    "Come and sit down a minute," Leigh urged, leading Cara over to her patio, where they settled on a gliding loveseat offering a good view of the family's conjoined yards. "The Pack will be gorging themselves for a good half hour, at least."
    Cara complied, and Chewie, seeing an opportunity for immediate attention, promptly returned and hopped up into her lap. Cara stroked his tawny fur absently, her mind far away.
    Leigh studied her expression. "I know it doesn't look good that Gil and Brandon had that fight," she said carefully. "But I'm getting the idea that there's something else, here. Am I right?"
    Cara's eyes began to mist again, and she swiped at them with the back of her hand. "There is," she said miserably. "Nothing real. Nothing that would ever make Gil hate Brandon enough to hurt him—Gil could never hate anybody like that. But I'm worried, Leigh. Because if the detectives start digging back into their ancient history together... well... it's complicated."
    Leigh cast a glance toward her cousin's house. "Did you let The Pack into the marshmallows and the ice cream toppings?"
    Cara nodded guiltily.
    "Then we have time," Leigh responded. "So talk. When Gil first sent Brandon to Hook, he told me they went to college together. Brandon made it sound like they were old chums, but frankly, I didn't get that from Gil. He didn't even seem to like the guy."
    "Couldn't stand him," Cara confirmed. "Never could."
    Leigh started to ask, "So why did he work for him?" but bit off the question. She already knew the answer: the same reason she worked for him. It was business, and business paid the bills. Refusing to deal with criminals was one thing, but if you started turning clients away just because they were arrogant jerkwads, you'd best prepare to starve.
    "They met when they were fraternity brothers at Bucknell," Cara explained. "Brandon was one of those guys who was born with money and figured all he had to do to get more of it was snap his fingers. He wasn't stupid, but he was reckless and overbearing and just generally obnoxious. After college, several of the guys ended up in Philadelphia, where Gil was in grad school, and they pulled in some others and shared a house together. Gil hardly ever saw Brandon or the others he knew, but the rent was cheap and he was buried in student loans, so it worked out. But then..."
    Cara's voice trailed off. She pulled a perfectly manicured nail to her perfectly shaped, rosy mouth and proceeded to nibble.
    Leigh's eyed widened. Her cousin didn't nibble for