"No." Her eyes shifted from side to side, ever watchful. "He's in New
York. We've ..." She had to get used to saying it, to meaning it.
"We've separated."
"Oh." He didn't grin, at least not on the outside. "I'm sorry." But he
remembered her reaction when he'd come up behind her in the airport.
"Amicably?"
"I hope so." She shuddered. "Lord, they keep it cold in here."
He opened his mouth to question. It wasn't his place to pry, he
reminded himself. Not into her marriage, or the ending of it. "How
long do you plan to be in town?"
"I'm really not sure."
"How about some lunch, or a drink?"
"I can't. I have an appointment in an hour."
"Have dinner with me, then."
Her lips curved a little. She would have liked to have had dinner with
a friend. "I'm trying to keep a low profile while I'm here. I haven't
been going to restaurants."
"How about a backyard barbecue at my place?"
"Well, I-"
"Look, here's my address." Because he didn't want to give her time to
say no, he took out a card and scribbled on the back. "You can come by
around seven and we'll throw a couple of steaks on. Very low profile."
She hadn't realized how much she'd been dreading sitting in her room,
picking at a room service meal, flipping channels on the television for
company. "All right."
He started to offer her a lift, but caught sight of a big white limo at
the curb.
"Seven o'clock," he repeated. She sent him a last smile before they went
their separate ways.
Michael wondered if he could find a cleaning service at two o'clock on a
Friday afternoon. Emma walked past the limo and took her place on line
for cabs. Idly, she turned the card over.
DETECTIVE M. KESSELRING
HOMICIDE
With a shiver, she slipped it into her bag. Odd, she'd forgotten he was
a cop. Like his father.
MICHAEL STUFFED TWO WEEKS' worth of newspapers in the bedroom closet.
His two twenty-gallon trash cans were already bulging. It was hard for
him to believe that one man and one dog could accumulate so much
garbage. And he was appalled that in a city like Los Angeles there
wasn't a single cleaning service to he had on a Friday afternoon.
He tackled the kitchen first with the bottle of TlipJob he'd borrowed
from a neighbor. The house smelled like a pine forest, but it couldn't
be helped. Then Michael lured Conroy into the bathroom with a slice of
bologna. When he stepped naked into the tub and dangled it, the dog
hesitated. They both knew bologna was a weakness. The moment the dog
leaped into the tub, Michael slid the glass doors closed.
"Grin and bear it, pal," Michael suggested as Conroy bristled with
indignation.
It took a half bottle of shampoo, but Conroy bore up like a soldier. He