“Cool,” Garth said.

“And paint the house,” Agnes added.

“On it,” Garth said, and was gone.

Agnes turned to Maria. “You really do look beautiful in that dress, honest to God, and the flamingo will be gone by your wedding, I swear.”

Maria nodded, trying to smile, and then Agnes turned to the rest of the group, raising her voice to be heard above the honking.

“So, who’s for a mint julep?” It wasn’t quite ten yet, but it was definitely turning into a drink-your-brunch day. If Cerise didn’t shut up soon, she was going to get a julep, too. With a syringe if necessary.

Evie shook her head, trying to look away from the flamingo and failing. “Thank you, Agnes, but I’m going home to bed.” She finally tore her eyes away, kissed Maria on the cheek, halfway between a real kiss and an air kiss, smiled weakly at Lisa Livia and Brenda, and tottered off to her Lexus.

“She’s startin’ to show her age, bless her heart,” Brenda said with satisfaction.

“She was up all night working on your dress for your granddaughter,” Lisa Livia snapped.

“She was up all night ruining my wedding dress,” Brenda shot back.

“Bless her heart,” Agnes said. Brenda jerked back to glare at Agnes.

“I’ll have Shane and Joey put that clock in the truck and bring it out to your boat,” Agnes said.

“That clock is the only heirloom from my family,” Brenda said. “You just leave it where it is.”

“It’s in my house,” Agnes said.

Brenda took a deep breath and then stopped, the blood rising in her face.

“I think I’m going up to the gift bedrooms to change,” Maria said, her voice cracking. “It’s quiet up there. And I can look at my china. I’ll like that.”

When she was gone, Lisa Livia said, “Come on, Ma, let’s go back to the boat and leave Agnes to work on the wedding in peace.” She shot a glance at Cerise, still honking her head off. “Sort of.”

“Yacht, not boat,” Brenda snapped. And then she smiled, which was almost worse. “You go on, honey. I’ve got some things to do in town. But I could use a glass of water before I go. You don’t mind if I get it myself, do you, Agnes? I feel as though I still own the place, you know.” She turned on her heel and walked across the lawn and into the house.

“My mother,” Lisa Livia said. “A complete waste of oxygen. Bless her heart.”

“She’s insane,” Agnes said. “Normally, I’d just go berserk and scream at her, but I’m trying to be an adult and use the Dr. Garvin approach.”

“I am no fan of Dr. Garvin, but in this case, yes. Play nice until we find something that we can nail her to the wall with.” Lisa Livia went toward the house, pulling Agnes with her. “Does she even know that you know? About Taylor and the swindle, I mean?”

“Depends on whether Taylor’s had time to talk to her. He is a great avoider of conflict, so maybe not. Go get me something good from those boxes.”

“You know, another place to look is here at Two Rivers,” Lisa Livia said, opening the screen door. “She might have left something behind somewhere.”

“Left it? Like where?” Agnes said, and then stopped in the kitchen doorway, where Brenda was staring at the open doorway to the basement.

“What do you mean, they’re down there looking for the tunnel?” she was saying to Joey, sheet white.

Lisa Livia looked at Agnes. “Like in the basement,” she said.


Shane looked around the rec room, trying not to linger on the Venus de Mildew and thought, The Fortunato taste in decorating. Probably causes genetic damage. Which would explain a lot about the family.

“This is a great house,” Carpenter said as he flipped open the clasps on his large plastic case.

“You think?”

“Can’t you feel it?” Carpenter asked as he brought out a foot-long infrared wand. “Cut the light.”

Shane turned off the light, and Xavier’s blood trail glowed. Carpenter looked like a ghoul holding the wand. He nodded. “Lot of blood. Someone cleaned it up, you can see the smears, probably with bleach.” Carpenter walked the trail from where the stairs had ended, across the floor, around the edge of the bar, to the wine rack. “Turn the light back on.”

Shane flipped the switch. “Why do you think this is a great house?”

“The vibe.” Carpenter ran his large hands lightly over the old wooden rack.

Shane thought about Agnes, maybe in that cool blue bedroom at the top of the house. “Might be a good house to come home to.”

Carpenter stared at him for a few seconds, then nodded. “It might be. You tired, my friend?”

Shane wiped a hand across his forehead. “I didn’t get much sleep last night-”

“Not that kind of tired.” Carpenter shrugged his broad shoulders. “I’m tired. And you do the real dirty work. I’m willing to bet you’re real tired, deep inside.”

Shane stared at Carpenter, surprised, and then thought about what Wilson had said out on the high dock. Taking Wilson’s job would mean he’d be out of the field. He’d be giving the orders rather than having to execute them-literally. Sending somebody else out to do what he did.

Carpenter lifted the huge wine rack out of the way and put it to the side. Then he placed his hands on the wood-paneled wall. “There’s something that looks like a stethoscope in my case. Except bigger. And it has headphones.”

Shane looked in the case and retrieved the device. He brought it to Carpenter, who placed the headphones on and then put the cone at the other end against the wall. He turned a knob on the control and began slowly sliding it along the wall in short swaths, working from the floor up to the ceiling.

Shane waited, wondering what mischief Agnes and Lisa Livia were up to upstairs. And why all of a sudden he and Carpenter were having conversations instead of short exchanges about packages and cleanups.

“There is indeed a void behind here,” Carpenter said, removing the headphones.

“You can hear a void?” Shane asked.

Carpenter handed him the equipment. “It sends a pulse out, like sonar.” He was staring at the paneling as if it were going to speak to him.

“What-” Shane began, but Carpenter held up a hand indicating silence. Shane figured he was waiting for the vibe to speak to him again. Or maybe the void.

Carpenter looked left, then right, atthe ghastly imitation of the Venus de Milo. He reached out and began to run his hand over the statue.

“Carpenter?” Shane said when his friend put his hands over her breasts. Maybe the rhinestones had gotten to him. “I think Lisa Livia wants that.”

Carpenter pressed both breasts and at the same time took the toe of his boot and jammed it under the floorboard of the paneling in front of him. There was a slight noise, and Shane moved forward and knelt, putting his fingers next to Carpenter’s boot. He hooked them under the floorboard and lifted. A section of the paneling slowly began to lift, protesting against the inertia of the years it had been stuck in place.

“I am curious.” Carpenter went over to his case and pulled out two headbands with flashlights attached to the front of them and tossed one to Shane. “Frankie was the older son, but not the Don. Stuck down here with his Venus de Milo Bomb Shelter. And your uncle, he’s worried, but he’s not saying anything. Doesn’t strike me as the type to scare easy, your uncle.” He turned on his light and faced toward the void.

Shane did the same, feeling very troubled. Joey didn’t scare easy, but something had kept him quiet and stuck in Keyes for a long time.

The tunnel was about four feet wide going up to a rounded roof slightly over six feet high. It was lined with brick, very old brick, and it was deep, black as hell beyond the light cast by Carpenter’s beam.

“Let’s see what lies ahead.” Carpenter started in, and Shane followed. He couldn’t see past Carpenter’s bulk as they moved down the long tunnel, and he almost bumped into him when he came to an abrupt halt after fifty feet. The cleaner moved aside so Shane could see that the passage abruptly ended in a steel wall. No, a steel door, Shane realized as he saw the metal wheel in the center and the outline of a hatch.

Carpenter knelt and examined a keyhole to the left of the hatch, probing it with a long flexible rod he pulled out of one of the many pockets on his coveralls.

“Not pickable,” Carpenter decided. “Plus, the moisture down here has rusted whatever mechanism is in there solid anyway.”

“Blast it?” Shane suggested.

Carpenter rolled his eyes. “Always using the hammer when finesse will work. Wait here.” He edged past Shane and went back down the tunnel.

Shane looked at the steel hatch and rapped on it with his knuckles. Solid. Blasting it would probably bring the house down on top of them. That would piss Agnes off. Don’t want Agnes pissed off, Shane thought. Fiery, okay. Pissed off, no. At least not at him. If Taylor came by and infuriated her again, he was willing to lend a hand. Or whatever she needed. He began to wonder if Agnes was alone upstairs-

Carpenter was coming back.

“You know,” Shane speculated, “if someone whacked Frankie Fortunato and didn’t have Joey’s skills as a cleaner, this would be a good place to stash the body. And if Frankie had put the safe with the money in here already and that person had shut the door with the key on Frankie’s body and then found out the five mil was in there, that person might have been getting pretty steamed over the past twenty-five years.”

“Why kill Frankie if not for the money?” Carpenter carefully placed a wooden box on the floor and opened it, revealing several glass vials. He also laid out a long green nylon case. He peeled open the Velcro holding it shut, revealing steel rods.