Deadly Currents by Beth Groundwater

ended, she quickly slid out of her pew and was one of the first to leave. She stood blinking on the sidewalk in the glaring sunlight while she fished in her purse for sunglasses.
    Detective Quintana approached her. “Can you stop by my office in about half an hour? I have something to tell you.”
    “What?”
    “I don’t want to discuss it here.”
    Mandy assumed he must have new information about Tom King’s death. “Okay, I’ll see you there.”
    With a nod, Quintana walked off, stroking his mustache. Caught up in wondering what the detective had to tell her, Mandy didn’t notice Rob approaching until he had rubbed a hand across her back.
    “I’m surprised to see you here,” he said.
    Her body responded instinctively to his touch, and she leaned toward him until she remembered that she was supposed to be irritated with him. She stiffened and slid on her sunglasses. “I was surprised to see you, too, until you got up to speak. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
    Rob let his hand fall to his side. “Because I didn’t think you’d want to come, or even want to know the service was happening.”
    “Fooled you.”
    Rob tugged at his bolo tie—the one his grandfather had carved out of silver and fitted with a large, lumpy turquoise stone, the one Rob reserved for special occasions. “Mandy, about our phone conversation—”
    Jeff King came up and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Thanks for that testimonial, Rob.”
    Turning, Rob shook his hand. “Glad to do it. Your father did a lot for the business community in this town, especially in beefing up the chamber of commerce.”
    “That was him.” Jeff’s mouth turned down in a frown. “All business, no play.”
    “Jeff, sweetheart?” Paula King called in her breathy Texas accent. She walked up then stopped when she noticed Mandy. Her voice turned steely hard. “What are you doing here?”
    Mandy tensed. “I came to pay my respects to your husband, Mrs. King. I’m sorry for your lo—”
    “Oh, cut the sugar-coating. Tom would still be alive if your uncle ran a respectable business and hired proper guides.”
    Mandy’s face flushed as she jammed her fists on her hips. “Gonzo’s one of the best river guides on the Arkansas.”
    “Who drinks like a lush.” Paula King crossed her arms confidently across her ample breasts, which looked suspiciously perfect.
    “Who said that?” Mandy glanced at Jeff, who sheepishly stared off into the space over her head. “Gonzo may drink in the evenings, but he runs the river stone sober.” That had better be true. “Besides, his skill as a guide isn’t even an issue. If your husband had a heart attack and fell in the river, that’s no one’s fault. No one could have saved him.”
    Paula thrust out her chin. “You’d like to believe that. Then you’d have a clear conscience, wouldn’t you, honey pie?”
    Mandy spluttered in disbelief, her mouth opening and closing. “What? What are you saying?”
    “You didn’t save my husband, did you? You either failed due to incompetence or—” Jeff’s hand clamped down on his mother’s arm, and she glared at him “—you were covering up for your uncle’s mistakes.”
    Shaking her head, Mandy stumbled back until Rob caught her. “No, no, that’s not true …”
    The woman’s vehemence was like a physical force pushing her, pushing her back into the abyss of her nightmares about her parents’ deaths.
    Rob and Jeff nodded to each other and pulled the two women further apart. Rob hustled Mandy around the corner of the church into the side parking lot.
    There, Mandy regained her speech. “Can you believe that witch? I’ve a good mind to march back there and tell her to go straight to hell.” She whirled toward the front of the church.
    Rob stepped in front of her and put his hands firmly on her shoulders. “Mandy, look at me. Nothing will be gained by you going back there.”
    Literally shaking with fury, Mandy stamped her foot. “Did you hear