Flamingo Diner. Sherryl Woods

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      “Only sopranos I know sing in the choir at church,” Gabe responded. “But everybody knows the mob likes to pokes its nose into all sorts of places asking for protection money. Maybe Don wouldn’t pay up.”

      “Protection from what?” Harley demanded. “What kind of crime do we have in Winter Cove? Matt here sees to it that we don’t have a lot of criminals on the loose.”

      “He does his part,” Gabe agreed with a nod in Matt’s direction. “Doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a little help. You never know.”

      “I know,” Harley retorted, scowling fiercely.

      “You don’t know everything.”

      Matt decided it was time to step in before the two men came to blows. “I think we can safely assume that there was no mob involvement in this. I know a little bit about organized crime.”

      Gabe nodded enthusiastically. “It’s rampant in the big cities, am I right?”

      “I wouldn’t say rampant,” Matt countered. “But it does exist. I just don’t happen to think it’s made its way to Winter Cove, certainly not to the point where our residents are likely to be the target of a hit that’s made to look like an accident.”

      “Maybe it wasn’t an accident at all,” Gabe suggested. “Maybe he killed himself because they were after him.”

      “Oh, give it a rest, you old coot,” Harley said, regarding him with disgust.

      “You got any better ideas about why a good driver like Don would wind up in the lake?” Gabe asked, clearly annoyed that his theory hadn’t been taken seriously. He turned to Matt. “You think there’s something funny about the way he died, too, don’t you?”

      Matt refused to answer. He didn’t want to send their already wild imaginations into a frenzy. Who knew where that could lead?

      Gabe regarded him with disgust. “Okay, don’t say it, Matthew. I can see the truth written all over your face. That’s what brought you sneaking over here to listen in on our conversation. You don’t think it was an accident any more than we do.” Before Matt could respond, Gabe turned to Harley. “I suppose you’ve got a theory.”

      “A woman,” Harley said without hesitation. “When a man goes off his rocker, there’s always a woman involved, believe you me.”

      “And you would know, wouldn’t you?” Gabe retorted. “What’s it been? Three marriages? Four?”

      Harley frowned. “Five, if you must know, so yes, I think I know a thing or two about what a woman can drive a man to do.”

      “Don had Rosa,” Gabe reminded him. “You ever seen two people more in love?”

      “They’d been together a lot of years,” Harley persisted. “Sometimes a man gets to a certain age and decides to take a look around. Don was a friendly guy. A lot of women who came in the diner probably took a second look at him.”

      “Any one in particular?” Matt inquired casually, even though he couldn’t imagine Don ever looking at anyone besides Rosa.

      Harley looked pleased as punch that someone was taking him seriously. “Maureen Polk, maybe. She’s been looking to get married again. She’s even cast her eye in my direction.”

      Gabe rolled his eyes. “Just shows the sort of taste she has. Don would never give a woman like that the time of day.”

      “Anyone else?” Matt asked.

      Harley’s expression turned thoughtful. “You know he was huddled with that Sawyer girl an awful lot.”

      Gabe hooted. “Are you crazy? Jennifer Sawyer is young enough to be his daughter. She went to school with you, didn’t she, Matt?”

      Matt nodded slowly, unwilling to comment. His own relationship with Jennifer hadn’t been common knowledge. He’d seen the financial consultant at Flamingo Diner just about every morning, but few people had suspected that they hadn’t simply bumped into each other there by accident. When Jennifer had wanted their relationship to go public and Matt had broken it off, he’d managed to avoid her. In all that time, Matt couldn’t recall Don paying any particular attention to Jennifer. Besides, Don wouldn’t so much as innocently flirt right under Rosa’s nose, much less start a torrid affair with a woman half his age. Matt wouldn’t believe it of him, not without hard proof. And for a while there, Jennifer hadn’t had time to be involved with another man. He could swear to that.

      Harley’s expression turned sour. “Don’t either of you think that Don was above such a thing. There’s not a man on the planet who can’t be tied up in knots by a female, and that’s the truth. You talk to her, Matt. I’m willing to bet that Sawyer woman knows something.”

      “Bet what?” Gabe demanded at once. “Put some money on the line and make it interesting.”

      “The only place I bet is the racetrack,” Harley retorted piously. “And Gabe Jenkins, you should be ashamed of turning this into some sort of sleazy way to make a couple of bucks.”

      Gabe did have the grace to look abashed by the criticism. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

      Matt regarded them both sternly. “I hope neither of you let Rosa or Emma hear your wild ideas. This has been difficult enough for them. Right now Don’s death is considered an accident, period. Are we clear on that?”

      “Absolutely,” Harley said at once, obviously horrified that Matt would think he might share his speculation with the family.

      “She won’t hear a word from me, either,” Gabe assured him.

      Satisfied, Matt left them and went in search of Emma. She’d left the room a half hour earlier and hadn’t reappeared.

      He found her out by the pool, sitting on the edge, her bare feet dangling in the water, her cheeks streaked with tears. The vulnerable expression in her eyes when she looked up tore at him.

      “Mind if I join you?” he asked.

      She shrugged.

      Matt kicked off his shoes, ripped off his socks and rolled up his pants legs before dropping down beside her. The pool was bathwater warm. On any other occasion, he’d have been tempted to search for a spare bathing suit inside the house and jump right in.

      “A swim would feel good about now,” he said just to make conversation.

      “Believe me, I thought about jumping in with my clothes on, but I figured everyone would panic and think I was trying to drown myself,” Emma retorted with a wry glance in his direction.

      “Emma, no one would make comparisons with what happened to your father. As far as most of the people here are concerned, he died in an accident.”

      She gave him a skeptical look. “I saw you huddled with Gabe and Harley. They were good friends of Dad’s. Do they think it was an accident?”

      “Gabe and Harley are bored. They’re always looking for excitement,” he said carefully.

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