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within the hour.”
    She knew she’d been heard when her companion said, “Is that a problem for you?”
    “Hmm?” She turned onto the highway and then glanced his way.
    “Is there a husband or significant other who won’t be too pleased we’re having lunch together?”
    “If that were an issue, I’d hardly be here.” And if he were trying to gauge her marital status he was going to have to come right out and ask.
Which, rather surprisingly, he did.
    “So, are you?”
    “Am I what?”
    “You’re too smart to play dumb. Are you married?”
    “No.”
    “Involved?”
    She didn’t like the spurt of — something his line of questioning evoked. “No.”
    A McDonald’s, Wendy’s, and Arby’s flashed by in a blur of primary colors and parking lots scattered with family vans.
    “Why not?”
    She laughed. She couldn’t help it. She laughed out loud and it felt good after all the dismal seriousness of the morning. “That’s a personal question.”
    “They’re more interesting than impersonal ones.”
    She shook her head and kept driving. A deep red highway sign announced that Delaney’s would be found at the next turnoff.
    “Well?”
    She pulled smoothly off the highway and into Delaney’s parking lot, pulled up close to the brown siding of the building and cut the engine before turning to him.
    It hit her then, what a truly attractive man he was. Here in the close confines of the car her skin prickled as she found his blue eyes staring at her. His skin had the rugged look of someone who spends a lot of time outdoors. A couple of grooves tracked from his cheeks to a square jaw. His mouth was shockingly at odds with the rest of his face. It was sensual and belonged to a man who loved to talk, loved to eat exotic foods, a man who loved to kiss.
    It was obvious he hadn’t simply been making idle conversation and she needed to be clear that she wasn’t interested. “Mr. Forbes—”
    “Come on. We’ve faced each other over a corpse—I’m pretty sure that automatically puts people on a first-name basis. It’s Duncan.”
    “Duncan. I have known you for less than a day. In that time I have not grown to like you particularly.”
    He simply stared at her, waiting patiently for her answer. In spite of herself, her lips twitched. “Inside.”
    As she’d hoped, Delaney’s was close to empty. They slid into one of the anonymous, high-backed red leather booths and she felt a little of the morning’s tension slide off her shoulders.
    Harold, the owner and maitre d’, handed them menu folders in the same color—probably the same fabric—as the booths. It was that sort of place. Nothing ever changed. There was rice mixed with the salt in the shakers, six pages of menu items, including Greek, Italian, and recently some stir-fries, but everyone came to Delaney’s for the steaks.
    “Steak sandwich,” she told Harold, not bothering to open her menu. “Medium rare, on sourdough. Blue cheese dressing on the salad.”
    “Sounds good. I’ll have the same,” said her companion.
    “Anything to drink?”
    “Perrier and lime.”
    Duncan Forbes opened the wine list. He ordered a bottle of something that sounded French and expensive.
    “The bottle, sir?” Harold sounded impressed which confirmed her guess that the wine was expensive.
    “Please. And bring two glasses.”
    She smiled rigidly until Harold—who must be blissfully unaware of the morning’s discovery at the library since he hadn’t asked a thing—took their menus and disappeared. “I don’t usually drink wine at lunchtime,” she said.
    “Neither do I. But there’s nothing usual about today. I think we both need a drink.” He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “God knows I do.”
    Maybe it was that oblique admission that he was as shaken as she by their grisly discovery that made her shut up and let Harold place a wineglass in front of her.
    “Nice day,” he said as he went through the business of uncorking the bottle.
    She