He said, his voice very precise, “I meant my talent for solving crimes.”

“Yeah, yeah. Griffin never wants to talk about it, Ruth, but Miss Aladonna not only sang, she was psychic, and she swore that was her biggest talent and she passed it on to him.”

Ruth said, “Did Miss Aladonna speak to spirits?”

“No, like Griffin, she simply knew stuff there was no way she could know. She—”

“Enough of that, Delsey. I told you, I was talking about my talent as a cop. I see patterns sometimes, that’s all, look at puzzle pieces and can many times see how they all fit together. You’re looking better, you’re arguing with me, so let’s get down to business here, if you can do it without throwing up again.”

Delsey said to Ruth, “I told you he never wants to talk about it.”

Ruth only smiled.

“That’s enough, Delsey. You need to tell Ruth and me what happened. If you feel sick again, you stop talking, okay?”

Delsey felt a twist of nausea and swallowed. “Yeah, I can do this.” She swallowed again. “I went to a party over at Professor Rafael Salazar’s house.” She stopped cold, and her breathing picked up, suddenly hard and fast.

Ruth leaned close. “No, don’t panic, Delsey. Relax. What upset you?”

“I can’t seem to remember anything after I parked my Spyder at Professor Salazar’s house—there’s nothing else until I was here with you.”

Griffin said matter-of-factly, “Not remembering is common with a bad concussion. Now, you went to a party at this Professor Salazar’s house? You mean Rafael Salazar? The classical guitarist? I’ve got a couple of his CDs. He’s very good.”

“That’s him. He’s better than good, he’s brilliant. I’ve read he was a child prodigy.”

“So why is he at Stanislaus?”

“He’s a visiting professor, brought here by—this is really cool—his twin brother, who happens also to be the director of Stanislaus, Dr. Elliot Hayman.”

“I didn’t know he had a twin,” Griffin said. “And it’s Dr. Elliot Hayman? I also have some of his CDs playing Bach. Okay, I want to hear more about him, too, but first tell me more about Rafael Salazar.”

Delsey said, “I’ve never seen technique like his on the classical guitar. His fingers are a blur. His students adore him, particularly the women, and it’s not only his musical ability. He throws great parties and drinks his weight in vodka martinis, but what he excels at is dazzle and seduction, which he does with great regularity.” She grinned. “He’s with Gabrielle DuBois right now. She’s a voice student. I think he made a mistake—he let it out he thought Gabrielle sings like Edith Piaf, and believe me, she doesn’t let anyone forget it.”

“Wait a second,” Griffin said. “If he and Hayman are twin brothers, why do they have different last names?”

“All I know is they were separated as boys; Mom took one to Spain, married again, and changed his name to the new hubby’s name, Salazar, and Dad kept the other one with him here in the States.”

“Okay, back to the party at Salazar’s house.”

“I remember there were lots of people and cars and the music blaring out even though the windows were closed. Then it’s a blank.”

“Someone hit you on the head at your apartment, Delsey. We’re trying to figure out who.” Ruth stopped in her tracks when a woman rushed into the room, bundled up to her eyebrows, pulling off a wool cap and sending a long, thick dark braid flying down her back. It was Anna Castle, a Stanislaus student and part-time waitress at Maurie’s Diner. Ruth liked Anna, who’d come to Stanislaus at the beginning of the semester in September. She was always smiling and welcoming to her customers, knew all their likes and dislikes, and she always had time to chat with everyone. Ruth said quickly, “Hi, Anna, it’s okay. Delsey’s all right,” but Ruth saw all her attention was focused on Delsey. Since they both attended Stanislaus, she supposed they’d know each other, but this was more, this was real caring, real concern.

Delsey tried to sit up but couldn’t manage it. She held out her hand. “Anna, I’m okay.”

Griffin was up, his hand on his gun. “How did you get in here? Anna who? Who are you?”

“Griffin, it’s all right. This is Anna, a great violinist and my best friend.”

Griffin eyed the woman bundled up in a bright green ski jacket and wearing black knee boots over tight black jeans. He saw she was staring at his hand resting on the SIG clipped to his belt. He started to back off a bit, but then she walked up to him and smiled, her hand out. “I know you’ve got to be Delsey’s brother, since the two of you look like mirrors of each other. I’m Anna Castle, and like she told you, I’m her best friend. You’re the FBI agent, right?”