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nodded, finding comfort in her simple words of sympathy. His mind flashed briefly to the women he’d dated in Atlanta. His latest, Tracy Steadman in Client Services, had told him to call her after he’d had time to process his grief, whatever the hell that meant.
    “It’s okay, Sally. I got you into this.” Whatever
this
was. “You’re doing the job I asked you to do.”
    She looked away, as if he’d said something to make her uncomfortable. “The only job you need me to do is a tune-up. The Darrin’s engine may not be original, but it’s still a neat car, if you’d like to drive it for fun.”
    Fun. Now there was a concept. Right now Joe doubted he’d ever have fun again. As if reading his mind, Sally wrapped her fingers around his wrist.
    “I know you can’t think about having fun and enjoying life. For what it’s worth, I know what it’s like to lose one of your parents. I won’t tell you you’ll get over it. I never have. But it will get easier.”
    “You lost a parent?”
    She nodded. “My mother.”
    “ I’m sorry.”
    “It was a long time ago.” She released her grip on his wrist, returning her attention to the remaining rolled oyster on her plate.
    “How long ago?”
    “I was six.”
    “What happened to her?”
    “It was sudden. She’d had this bad headache all day. I remember her lying down after meeting me at the school bus. She coaxed me into taking a nap with her, just until Dad got home. By then, she was in terrible pain and we rushed her to the hospital. Uncle Sal and Aunt Susan met us there and took me home with them.
    “Later, Dad came and held me, and we cried together that we’d never see Mommy again. I didn’t understand words like
aneurysm
at the time, but later found out that was what killed her. An aneurysm of the brain.”
    “That must have been rough for you.”
    “Yeah, it was. Dad sank into a deep depression. She was just so young to be gone from our lives. He never remarried.”
    “So you have no brothers or sisters?”
    “No. It’s just me and my dad.”
    He’d glimpsed the sadness in her eyes before she looked away. Was it grief for her mother or something else? He wondered about her leg, whether she had suffered an injury, disease, or birth defect, and hoped in time she’d tell him about it.
    In time?
    Too undecided about his future, he shoved the thought aside. He had a career and a condo waiting in Atlanta. But his mother needed him in Louisville, and he vowed he’d take whatever time was needed. He wouldn’t be too busy for his family. Not anymore.
    He and Sally ate the rest of their meal in a comfortable silence. Many women were uneasy with lapses in conversation, a trait he found annoying. He relaxed more with Sally than with the other women he’d dated.
    Women he dated. Was he dating Sally Clay? The prospect of knowing her better filled him with unexpected pleasure. A pang of guilt seized him. Pleasure? How could he feel anything remotely like happiness when his father had killed himself the previous week?
    Or had he?
    Your father was murdered
.
    Brushing aside his confusing thoughts, Joe settled the check, then held Sally’s blazer as she slipped into it. Grabbing his nylon windbreaker, he guided her through the small restaurant, cupping her elbow with his hand. Heads turned as they passed, but not because of their slow pace. Men were eyeing Sally, with her rich brown hair, exotic mouth, and vibrant eyes. He wondered if she was aware of their appreciative stares.
    He pulled into the stream of Friday night traffic on Taylorsville Road. Sally seemed comfortable with the silence in the car, leaving him to concentrate on the slick streets and other cars. As he neared Jeffersontown, Joe switched off the windshield wipers. The rain had stopped.
    Sally directed him down a side street shortcut to the garage’s rear entrance. Except for the convenience store, businesses like Mustang Sally’s that faced Watterson Trail were closed for the evening. Joe and