want to be part of your study. That’s the bottom line.”
“Okay.” She looked so tired all at once, he noted. Bone-weary. It stirred him, a mixture of guilt and sympathy. “All right. But something happened the other night that might make that difficult for both of us.”
He waited a moment, while she shifted in her chair then gave him her reluctant attention. “I saw a woman on the beach. At first I thought it was you. Same eyes, same coloring. She was very alone, and brutally sad. She looked at me, for one long moment. Then vanished.”
Ripley pressed her lips together, then picked up her wine. “Maybe you’ve been drinking too much Merlot.”
“She wants redemption. I want to help her find it.”
“You want data,” she tossed back. “You want to legitimate your crusade, maybe cop a book deal.”
“I want to understand.” No, he admitted, that wasn’t all of it. That wasn’t the core of it. “I want to know.”
“Then talk to Mia. She loves attention.”
“You grew up together?”
“Yeah. So?”
It was easier, he decided, even more pleasant, to deal with her when she had her attitude back in place. “I caught some . . . tension between the two of you.”
“I must repeat myself. So?”
“Curiosity is the scientist’s first tool.”
“It also killed the cat,” Ripley said with a glimmer ofher former sneer. “And I don’t call bopping around the globe playing witch-hunter science.”
“You know, that’s just what my father says.” He spoke cheerfully as he rose to take their soup bowls to the sink.
“Your father sounds like a sensible man.”
“Oh, he is that. I’m a constant disappointment to him. No, that’s unfair,” Mac decided as he came back, topped off their wine. “I’m more a puzzle, and he’s sure some of the pieces have gone missing. So. Tell me about your parents.”
“They’re retired. My father was sheriff before Zack, my mother was a CPA. They took their life on the road a while back, in a big Winnebago.”
“Hitting the national parks.”
“That, and whatever. They’re having the time of their lives. Like a couple of kids on an endless spring break.”
It wasn’t what she said so much as how she said it that told him the Todd family was tight and happy. Her problem with her power didn’t stem from family conflict. He was sure of that.
“You and your brother work together.”
“Obviously.”
There was no doubt about it, she was back. “I met him the other day. You’re not much like him.” He glanced up from his notes. “Except for the eyes.”
“Zack got all the nice-guy genes in the family. There weren’t any left over for me.”
“You were there when he was injured while arresting Evan Remington.”
Her face went very still again. “Do you want to read the police report?”
“Actually, I have. It must’ve been a rough night.” And let’s just circle around that for now, he decided. “Do you like being a cop?”
“I don’t do things I don’t like.”
“Lucky you. Why The Maltese Falcon ?”
“Huh?”
“I was wondering why you picked that instead of, say, Casablanca ?”
Ripley shook her head, adjusted her thoughts. “I don’t know. Because I figure Bergman should’ve told Bogart, ‘Paris, my butt’ instead of getting on the plane. In Falcon he did the job. He turned Astor over. That was justice.”
“I always figured Ilsa and Rick got together after the war, and Sam Spade . . . Well, he just kept being Sam Spade. What kind of music do you like?”
“What?”
“Music. You said you like working out to music.”
“What does that have to do with your project?”
“You said you didn’t want to be involved in my work. We might as well pass the rest of the time getting to know each other.”
She blew out a breath, sipped her wine. “You’re a really strange individual.”
“All right, then, enough about you. Let’s talk about me.” He sat back and, when her face blurred out of focus,
“Okay.” She looked so tired all at once, he noted. Bone-weary. It stirred him, a mixture of guilt and sympathy. “All right. But something happened the other night that might make that difficult for both of us.”
He waited a moment, while she shifted in her chair then gave him her reluctant attention. “I saw a woman on the beach. At first I thought it was you. Same eyes, same coloring. She was very alone, and brutally sad. She looked at me, for one long moment. Then vanished.”
Ripley pressed her lips together, then picked up her wine. “Maybe you’ve been drinking too much Merlot.”
“She wants redemption. I want to help her find it.”
“You want data,” she tossed back. “You want to legitimate your crusade, maybe cop a book deal.”
“I want to understand.” No, he admitted, that wasn’t all of it. That wasn’t the core of it. “I want to know.”
“Then talk to Mia. She loves attention.”
“You grew up together?”
“Yeah. So?”
It was easier, he decided, even more pleasant, to deal with her when she had her attitude back in place. “I caught some . . . tension between the two of you.”
“I must repeat myself. So?”
“Curiosity is the scientist’s first tool.”
“It also killed the cat,” Ripley said with a glimmer ofher former sneer. “And I don’t call bopping around the globe playing witch-hunter science.”
“You know, that’s just what my father says.” He spoke cheerfully as he rose to take their soup bowls to the sink.
“Your father sounds like a sensible man.”
“Oh, he is that. I’m a constant disappointment to him. No, that’s unfair,” Mac decided as he came back, topped off their wine. “I’m more a puzzle, and he’s sure some of the pieces have gone missing. So. Tell me about your parents.”
“They’re retired. My father was sheriff before Zack, my mother was a CPA. They took their life on the road a while back, in a big Winnebago.”
“Hitting the national parks.”
“That, and whatever. They’re having the time of their lives. Like a couple of kids on an endless spring break.”
It wasn’t what she said so much as how she said it that told him the Todd family was tight and happy. Her problem with her power didn’t stem from family conflict. He was sure of that.
“You and your brother work together.”
“Obviously.”
There was no doubt about it, she was back. “I met him the other day. You’re not much like him.” He glanced up from his notes. “Except for the eyes.”
“Zack got all the nice-guy genes in the family. There weren’t any left over for me.”
“You were there when he was injured while arresting Evan Remington.”
Her face went very still again. “Do you want to read the police report?”
“Actually, I have. It must’ve been a rough night.” And let’s just circle around that for now, he decided. “Do you like being a cop?”
“I don’t do things I don’t like.”
“Lucky you. Why The Maltese Falcon ?”
“Huh?”
“I was wondering why you picked that instead of, say, Casablanca ?”
Ripley shook her head, adjusted her thoughts. “I don’t know. Because I figure Bergman should’ve told Bogart, ‘Paris, my butt’ instead of getting on the plane. In Falcon he did the job. He turned Astor over. That was justice.”
“I always figured Ilsa and Rick got together after the war, and Sam Spade . . . Well, he just kept being Sam Spade. What kind of music do you like?”
“What?”
“Music. You said you like working out to music.”
“What does that have to do with your project?”
“You said you didn’t want to be involved in my work. We might as well pass the rest of the time getting to know each other.”
She blew out a breath, sipped her wine. “You’re a really strange individual.”
“All right, then, enough about you. Let’s talk about me.” He sat back and, when her face blurred out of focus,
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