1

IF THE BLONDE HAD NOT PUT HER HAND ON JACK CORRIGAN'S THIGH, HE might have awakened in his own bed, rather than facedown on the side of a farm road in the middle of the night. Then he would have missed the burial.

Given his condition that night, he might have slept through everything that happened, but a cold wind cut through his clothing, rousing him. He rolled painfully onto his back and found himself looking up dizzily into the rustling, moonlit leaves of tall, thin trees. His perspective was marred by the alcohol in his veins, and the fact that his left eye was nearly swollen shut.

He closed his eyes and tried to recall how he had ended up here. He remembered the party and the blonde…

The blonde had smiled and said something to him, then she took another drag from her Lucky Strike.

Corrigan saw her heavily lipsticked red mouth form words, but he couldn't hear what they were. The rock-'n'-roll band was on a break, but someone had turned the radio up, and Jerry Lee Lewis's "Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On" was rattling the windowpanes. Conversation in the crowded room competed with the music by notching up the shouting level. An old injury kept him from joining the dancers. No, he admitted —even if his ankle hadn't troubled him, this was not his kind of music. You old fogey, he told himself, and not yet out of your forties.

Not his kind of music, and not his kind of party, which was part of the problem with his mood tonight. He wouldn't have come, but Katy had sent him a note, specifically asking him to be here.

Despite the note, neither Katy nor her mother, Lillian Vanderveer Linworth, had seemed especially friendly when he arrived. That didn't surprise him. Harold Linworth, the birthday girl's father —and Lillian's husband —had politely despised him for years.

Katy's in-laws were there as well, Thelma and Barrett Ducane. Barrett was already hitting the sauce, but Thelma looked almost sober for once. Jack planned to catch up to Barrett as soon as possible.

Thelma let it drop that they had just talked Katy and their son Todd into coming along for an after-hours party on their yacht. A moonlight cruise on their new fifty-foot Chris-Craft Catalina.

"I bought the Sea Dreamer for Thelma for Christmas," Barrett said. "She's quite the sailor, my little gal."

If Thelma was supposed to be the captain of this idiotic voyage, that explained the sobriety. She was careful with her toys. Although the Chris-Craft was by no means the most expensive boat they could afford —pocket change to them, he was sure —Jack thought of how tightfisted they were with their boys, Todd and Warren, and how readily they spent money on themselves. He asked if Warren would be joining them on the boat.

Thelma frowned, openly displeased by the question.

"I told Warren to come along," Barrett said, "but he's off with some of his cronies."

"Surprised to see you here, Jack," Thelma said. "You write for the society pages of the Express now?"

"Should be a nice night for a cruise, almost a full moon," he said, and as he walked away, added, under his breath, "perfect for lunatics like you, Thelma." Going out for a pleasure cruise on a January night. That bitch was nuts. She was probably trying to irritate Lillian, who had once been a close friend, but now had little to do with her. Lillian wouldn't like Katy being pulled away from the party by the Ducanes.

Lillian had always opposed Katy's marriage to Todd Ducane. She had made bigger plans for her daughter, and Jack supposed that after her falling-out with Thelma all those years ago, the idea of Katy marrying Thelma's son had been a bitter pill to swallow.

For once, Jack and Lillian were in agreement. Jack had never liked any of the Ducanes, including Todd. The Toad, as Jack thought of him. But Katy had rebelled. He knew she had since come to see her mistake, but so far, she hadn't rectified it.

Lillian hadn't chosen so well herself, Jack thought, watching as the family gathered for photos. Harold Linworth had little more than his wealth to recommend him. Maybe that had been enough for Lillian. At forty, Lillian was still a looker. But standing next to Katy —Jack smiled to himself. Katy was a little subdued tonight, but still she had that quality, a fire within that drew others to her warmth. Not all of Lily's beauty could match it.

He watched as parents and in-laws stood next to Katy and Todd, the six of them smiling stiffly as a photographer went through the juggling act of focus, shoot, eject the used flashbulb, put a new one in, focus, shoot, and so on.

Why wasn't Warren around? The Ducane brothers were close. He glanced at Thelma and thought he had his answer. He was fairly sure all it would take to keep Warren away would be a demand by Thelma that he attend the party. There was the difference in the two boys —Todd acquiesced to their every demand, hoping to catch crumbs from their table. Warren rebelled. If that was what kept him away tonight, Jack had to admire him for it.

Copyright © 2005 by Jan Burke