Calling Lee—and he should’ve known—meant Lee insisted on coming over to see Zane for himself. Which meant Emily and the kids came, too.

Then because Emily insisted on telling Britt, that brought the rest of them. At least Silas and Britt picked up a bunch more pork and sides.

So a violent confrontation morphed into an impromptu family gathering. Darby watched Audra kiss Zane’s “hurts” much as she had, and cuddle against him to comfort.

She supposed she’d missed out on big, impromptu family gatherings, being the only child of a single parent. She decided being a part of them now landed on the plus side of living with Zane.

Even when Britt used the excuse of a gardening question to lure her away from the others and around to the front of the house.

“I just want to ask how you’re feeling, if you’re all right.”

“Zane’s the one who got punched.”

“I know your history, and I know you’ve been through three violent experiences in the last few months. If you need to talk—as friends, just friends—I’m here.”

“Then I’ll be honest with you. Part of me hit panic, hit shaky when I drove up on Zane and the latest Draper problem. I had to push that back because it doesn’t help. But the rest of me? The rest of me was impressed, because Zane, despite how he looks right now, had it under control.”

She looked down at the lake, going soft in the quieting light. “I know how to take care of myself, and that’s important to me. Now I know Zane can take care of himself, and me if he needs to.”

“Yes,” Britt agreed. “We grew up in a terrible place, but I always knew he’d look out for me. So I know exactly what you mean. But if the shaky comes back, you call me.”

“I’m really hoping this is the end of this cycle of crazy.” She tapped the tattoo on the back of her neck. “It’s really time for the calm and easy to balance it out.”

While Darby talked to Britt around front, Zane signaled Brody, slipped off with him and the dog for cover into the woods.

“Real quick, I want your go-ahead to share what you told me with Darby.”

“Oh, hey, I don’t—”

“Hear me out. Say you’re right, and we’ve got a bad guy. She lives here, too. And more, I really want her take on it. If I tell her in confidence, she’ll keep that confidence.”

“She has to swear.”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay. But nobody else.”

“Nobody else. I’ve got a line on his full name—without telling anybody else.”

“You do?”

The kid’s instant admiration gave Zane a lift. “Yeah, and I’m going to check it out after everybody goes home. I can’t promise anything, Brody, but I’ve got a place to start. Now think about this. If I find anything illegal, or really off, we need to tell your dad.”

At that, Brody gave a decisive nod. “If you find proof, we talk to Dad.”

“Good enough.” They shared a fist bump.

“Can you show me where Clint Draper got killed?”

“No.”

“Aw, man.” Brody kicked the dirt. “How about you show me how you knocked his brother on his butt, and made him stay down.”

Zane faked a punch, then caught Brody in a headlock. “We’re going back.”

* * *

He nearly put off filling in Darby, as his family didn’t leave until after nine. But since he wanted to start his search, he thought it best to get that take of hers.

He ran a hand down her short cap of hair as they sat another moment in the glow of the garden lights.

“I have a client who’s given me permission to share some information with you on the condition of treating said information as privileged and confidential.”

“Why would one of your clients…” She trailed off as he gave her that “just go with me” look. “Fine. I can keep my mouth shut.”

“The client requires you swear to same.”

“Your client—whoever it may be—has my solemn word to keep my mouth shut on this matter. What’s up?”

“I’ll tell you, but let’s walk around some. I’m going to stiffen up if I sit too long.”

“You’re going to stiffen up overnight, but good idea.”

The moon, little more than a thumbnail, curved its thin crescent in clear, star-drenched skies. The dog trotted along with them, pausing occasionally to leap at the wink of fireflies.

The night-blooming jasmine Darby had spotlighted drenched the air with scent.

And with all that calm, that lazy summer easy, Zane brought the strange.

She interrupted a few times, for clarification, to question.

When he’d finished, they’d circled to the front of the house and took seats on the veranda, watched that sliver of moon swim on the lake.

“I’d say that’s a boy with good instincts,” Darby concluded. “Because there’s a lot there that doesn’t add up. A single book? No way given what he claims to do for a living, what he says he’s come here to do. But maybe Brody just missed the e-reader.”

“Possible,” Zane agreed.

“Or he could read on his laptop, but it’s hard to believe a college English professor has one lonely paperback for an extended stay.”

“Agreed.”

“It’s also possible he’s just a jerk about recycling and got a good deal on a rental Prius. You can always work things around to another angle, right?”

“You not only can,” Zane said, “but some of us make our living doing just that.”

“Still … You’re an English professor, so you’ve spent a good chunk of your life studying and teaching literature. You couldn’t possibly blank on John Steinbeck. Popular fiction? Maybe he’s a book snob, but why not just ask, Who’s Virgil Flowers?

“And when you put it all together,” Darby concluded, “it feels off. What’s your next move?”

“It turns out Gretchen ran into him on the street. In my clever, lawyerly way, I got a name. Or names. She thinks Blake, Drake, or Deke Bingley. So since I don’t know where up north, or what university or college he claims to be a part of, I start with that.”

“That’ll take the rest of your life. Hold on.”

She got out her phone, held up a finger before he could object. “Hey, Emily, sorry. I forgot with Zane going ten rounds I was going to send a couple of the crew to do a little maintenance on the bungalows. I thought we’d start with five, then spread out from there. Is anyone in five?”

Darby made uh-huh noises. “We’ll make sure we start midmorning then. Unless he’s checking out soon. No? Oh really. Another Yankee? Where’s he from?”

She sent Zane a smug smile. “New York City. Well, we’ll make sure we don’t disturb him. Yeah, I’ll make sure he ices down again before we go to bed. I can do that, sure. See you tomorrow then.”

She clicked off. “She called him Mr. Bingley, and it would’ve seemed weird if I’d asked for a first name. But she said he was working on a novel, and came from New York City.”

“That’s helpful. You’re good at that.”