Murder Deja Vu by Polly Iyer Page A

beautiful all at the same time.”
    Her breath caught in her throat. “Am I?”
    “Yes, you are.” He kissed her again. “I’ll invite Jeraldine and Clarence. You know they’re a couple, don’t you?”
    The revelation took her by surprise. “No, I didn’t. They’re not two people I’d put together, and not because she’s black and he’s white. But because she’s so dominant and he’s so quiet.”
    “He’s not that quiet. He’s the boss, if you can believe it.”
    “No way.”
    “Yup, and she yields to him. It’s a sight to watch.” He took her by the hand. “I’ll call them after I show you my etchings.”
    * * * * *
    R eece made love with the same passionate intensity that defined him. He made sure he pleasured Dana before satisfying himself. After, she lay in his arms, cognizant of every emotion, every sound to file away so she’d never forget them.
    Dana helped Reece return the books to their rightful places. What an outstanding collection. She forced herself to focus on the task to avoid skimming through them. Reece would stop and show her something he considered special, exposing his passion for the subject matter and the written word. The man constantly surprised her, revealing bits and pieces without trying.
    She watched him make seafood linguine with assurance and creativity. No measuring, no second-guessing. He knew what he was doing, and the result proved it when they sat down to dinner with Jeraldine and Clarence.
    “Honey, this is better than you can get in Seafood City, Massachusetts,” Jeraldine said. “That’s Boston, Dana. Best seafood anywhere.”
    Dana listened to the innocent banter, tensely aware that Jeraldine’s ebullience might be a cover for bad news. Clarence waited until Reece served coffee.
    “Doesn’t take Jeri long to zero in on a snitch wherever she goes. This time was easier because not many people mind working against Minette. He’s not well-liked. The snitch is a gal at the courthouse. They’ve dug up something to tie you to Rayanne Johnson, Reece. We don’t know what it is, but they’re going to pull you in for questioning.” Clarence focused on Dana. “I’m sorry to say the problem is coming from Robert Minette’s office.”
    Dana’s stomach turned over.
    Reece put down his cup. “Don’t direct that at Dana, Clarence. She has nothing to do with her ex-husband.”
    Dana liked the way Reece stood up for her. It had been a long time since someone did that.
    “Sorry. I know. I didn’t mean—”
    Dana waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. People have said things to me when Robert wasn’t around as if I were his surrogate. I know it wasn’t personal.”
    “We didn’t want to tell you till after dinner, baby,” Jeraldine said.
    Dana noticed how Jeraldine called Reece baby all the time. She’d known him for twenty-one years, and Dana guessed when they met, Reece probably seemed young to her. Dana figured Jeraldine to be in her mid to late fifties, but she neither looked her age nor acted it. She loved Reece like a son.
    Reece looked bewildered. “I don’t understand. The bartender said the woman left with a stranger, and the stranger wasn’t me, which of course I knew.”
    “Yes, and I’m working that angle,” Clarence said. “It’s obvious from his description that he wore a disguise—glasses, facial hair, ball cap. We have height and weight, though. If it’s someone from Boston, the weight could have changed, so we have to keep those things in mind.”
    “Tying Reece to the woman doesn’t tie him to the murder,” Dana said. “Maybe he met her, maybe he even—”
    “Don’t, Dana.” Reece snaked his arm around her shoulders. “Don’t go there, because it’s possible. I haven’t been a monk the last six years, though I rarely did anything around here. Rudy’s is a good thirty miles away, and I liked the music, so it’s possible.”
    “Show him the picture, Clarence,” Jeraldine said.
    Clarence drew a small pad and a copy