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with you. I know there’s something wrong. Talk to me, Truax.”
    He released her and took a step back. “I get a little restless this time of year, that’s all.”
    “What is it? The weather?” That did not seem likely. Granted, it was November, but this was Arizona.
    The weather had been Chamber of Commerce perfect for the past few weeks. “Do the shorter days bother you? Have you got that seasonal thing with the light syndrome?”
    “No. It’s not the weather or the hours of daylight.” He looked at her from the other side of a wedge of moonlight. “It’s something that has happened to me for the past couple of years in November. This is the month that Drew was kidnapped and murdered.”
    “The anniversary of your brother’s death.” She suddenly understood. Relief mingled with an upwelling of sympathy. Hurrying toward him, she put her arms around him. “Of course. I should have realized. I got very depressed for a few days in August this year. I couldn’t figure out why until I remembered that it was very close to the date that Preston died.”
    Her husband’s murder had precipitated a series of devastating events that had included the nightmare of her involuntary commitment to Candle Lake Manor Psychiatric Hospital. August would always bring back the bad memories. November would no doubt forever be bad for Ethan.
    Ethan folded her close. “Bonnie and the boys go through the same thing each year.”
    She thought about the meals they had shared with his sister-in-law and nephews in the past few weeks.
    There had been a certain tension in the air, she realized.
    “Bonnie seemed a little quiet for a while at the beginning of the month. I noticed that Jeff and Theo have been squabbling more than usual, too,” she said.
    “Bonnie and Theo got through it much easier this year but Jeff is still having problems.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess I am, too.”
    “When does the bad time usually end for you?”
    “At the end of the month.” He hesitated a fraction of a beat before adding, “Right after the date of Simon Wendover’s boating accident. He died two years after Drew, almost to the day.”
    “I see.”
    She knew that Simon Wendover was the man who had been responsible for the murder of Drew Truax.
    Ethan had tracked him down and gathered evidence against him. But in the end the wheels of justice had not only ground slowly, they had ground very poorly. Wendover had walked out of the courtroom a free man.
    He had not enjoyed his freedom for long, however. A month after the trial ended, Wendover died in a boating accident.
    She stood with Ethan in the moonlight, hugging him until she felt some of the tension go out of him. Then

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    she took his hand.
    “Come on.” She led him out of the bedroom. “Let’s go into the kitchen and get you some warm milk.”
    “That’s what I give you after one of your nightmares.”
    “It works, doesn’t it?”
    “I think maybe I’d do better with a shot of something stronger.”
    She smiled. “Whatever.”
    He followed her into the kitchen. She got the brandy down from the cupboard and poured some into a glass. They sat together at the table while he drank it.
    When he finished the brandy they went back to the darkened bedroom. Ethan took off his clothes for the second time that night.
    Zoe yawned and crawled into the rumpled bed. “If you can’t sleep, go out into the living room and read or something. But promise me you won’t sneak out for a late-night walk alone.”
    “All right,” he said.
    He got into bed beside her and tucked her into the curve of his body. She felt him relax heavily against her.
    After a while he slept.
    She did not. Instead she lay awake for a long time thinking about what Ethan had said. She was pretty sure that what he had told her was the truth, as far as it went. He had not lied to her. She knew what lies sounded like. She had told a