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You’re probably imagining it.

I actually heard the thought in Dr. Pelletier’s voice.

But I knew my husband. He was off again, just like he’d been during dinner with my parents.

“I understand why you’d be upset by the nightmare,” Brad said. “But Patty’s parents are the ones who told us she’d decided to join the Peace Corps.”

“I know that. But isn’t it strange that she just left? Didn’t bother telling any of us? We’d just declared our love for each other, for God’s sake.”

“It does seem strange,” I said. “But she’s not the first friend to leave me and never communicate with me again. It happened to me in high school.” I relayed the story of Sage Peterson’s move and failure to answer any of my letters.

“And that doesn’t strike you as odd that it’s happened twice?” Ennis said.

“If it’s happened twice,” I said, “maybe it’s normal. I don’t know.”

Ennis wrinkled his forehead.

“I’ll tell you what,” Brad said. “Since you came all the way here, I’ll make some phone calls. I have contacts just about everywhere. Someone must know someone at the Peace Corps. I’ll try to get confirmation that Patty’s working with them.”

Ennis nodded eagerly. “That would be great, Brad. Thank you.”

“No problem. Always happy to help out a friend.” Brad stood. “Either of you care for an after-dinner drink?”

“Not while I’m nursing.” Though he already knew that.

“Sure. Anything’s fine with me,” Ennis said.

Brad left and returned a few minutes later with what looked like two bourbons. “I don’t have any decent wine in the house. I’m looking to hire a vintner. Our vineyards bloomed in spring, and we’re expecting a hell of a harvest. My father had a top-scale wine-producing facility built on the east quadrant a year and a half ago. If I don’t find someone soon, I’ll have to arrange to sell our grapes to another winery.”

“I know a little about wine,” Ennis said.

“You do?” Brad lifted his eyebrows.

“Sounds strange, huh? A Brit who knows about wine?” Ennis chuckled. “I have an uncle who married a Frenchwoman. They live in the Bordeaux region of France, where her father’s a winemaker. I’ve visited there since I was a kid, and my aunt has taught me a lot.”

“The job’s yours, then.”

Ennis laughed. “I said I know a little. I can’t take the job, of course, but I could help you talk to candidates while I’m here.”

“Really?” Brad lifted his drink in a toast. “That would be great. Thanks, man.”

“Happy to help. Especially since you’re looking into the Patty situation for me.”

“I’ve got a folder full of résumés,” Brad said. “I’d love it if you went through them and picked out the ones I should interview. Then, if you can stay awhile, you can sit in on the interviews with me.”

“Sure.”

“What about your work, Ennis?” I asked.

“I’m between jobs right now. Not an issue.”

Odd. Ennis had chosen to leave college and he’d begun working at a marketing firm when he returned to London after Patty left. That was only three months ago. Had he lost his job?

I didn’t feel comfortable asking.

Besides, I loved the idea of having Ennis around for a while. It was nice to have a friend again. One that wouldn’t pick up and leave and then never communicate with me again.

“If you’re going to be around for a while,” I said, “you should stay here instead of the hotel. We have plenty of room. Right, Brad?”

Brad’s facial muscles tensed, but only for a split second. “Yeah, sure. Love to have you.”

“All right,” Ennis said. “I appreciate it. I’ll pack up in the morning and head back over here.”

I left Brad and Ennis enjoying their drinks on the deck and went into the nursery to check on Jonah. He was sleeping soundly, but he’d be up in an hour or so for his evening feeding. I stood over his crib, just staring at his chubby little face, his perfect beauty.

“All for you, little dove. Everything Daddy and I do is for you.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Brad

Ennis was a good guy, but having him snooping around about Patty wasn’t a good thing. Then Daphne invited him to stay with us, which normally wouldn’t be an issue. I was still trying to figure out who’d been behind the threats against little Joe and the deaths of Murph and Patty. I couldn’t do that with Patty’s “jilted lover” hanging around.

The wine thing was a godsend. I’d sent him back to the hotel with a file folder full of résumés to review. I could keep him busy helping me find a vintner while I gathered a fake PI report that Patty was indeed in Africa working for the Peace Corps.

I was disgusted that my father’s high-priced PIs hadn’t uncovered the culprits behind all these messes. If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought someone was paying them off not to find anything.

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