"She was with the kids. At Whole Foods. Or does she go by her maiden name now?"
Dance touched her sore face. Pain was growing. "No, she kept 'O'Neil.'"
"Thought she was living in San Francisco."
"Last I heard she was."
"So Michael hasn't mentioned anything about it?"
"No. But we haven't had much of a chance for personal conversation." She nodded at the elevator. "The case and all."
"I suppose not."
Dance sometimes wondered where her mother's loyalties lay. Recently Edie had been fast to tell her that Boling appeared to be moving away--without his mentioning anything to Dance. As it turned out, he only had a business trip and was planning to take Dance and the children with him for part of it--a minivacation in Southern California. True, Edie had her daughter's and grandchildren's interests at heart but Dance thought she'd been a bit too fast to relay what turned out to be a misunderstanding.
Now she was telling Dance that the man who'd once been a potential partner might not be as divorced as he seemed to be. But Edie was not a gossip. So, Dance speculated, this would have to do with protecting her daughter's heart, as any good parent would do. Though the information was irrelevant, of course. She was Jon Boling's partner now.
Edie expected her to say something more on the topic, she sensed. But Dance chose to deflect: "Oh. Maggie's going to sing in the show after all."
"Really? Wonderful. What changed her mind?"
"I don't know."
Children were mysteries and you could go nuts trying to figure out patterns.
"Your dad and I'll be there. What time is it again?"
"Seven."
"Dinner after?"
"I think that should work."
Her mother was looking at her critically. "And, Katie, I'd really get that face taken care of."
"A lift?" Dance asked.
Mother and daughter smiled.
Her phone buzzed. Ah, at last.
"Jon, where've you been? We--"
"Is this Kathryn?" A man's voice. Not Boling's.
Her heart went cold. "Yes. Who's this?"
&n
bsp; "I'm Officer Taylor, Carmel Police. I found you on Mr. Boling's speed dial list. You're a friend, a coworker?"
"Yes. Friend. I'm Kathryn Dance. Special agent with the CBI."
A pause. Then: "Oh. Agent Dance."
"What's happened?" Dance whispered. She was deluged with an ice-cold memory--of the trooper calling her after her husband was killed.
"I'm afraid I have to tell you that Mr. Boling's been in an accident."