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He was talking to the air, he told hiust

And yet, he felt ical reason for it, but he didn’t give a da about the accident scenario wasn’t right

"You were too good a man," he said softly "Someone had to be after you"

There was no whisper of approval Nothing

"Hey"

He turned quickly People didn’t come up on hiht

Or too busy talking to hiht find you here," she said

He lifted a hand "Sorry--talking to "

"I atching your face You don’t believe it was an accident"

It was a statement, not a question

"Maybe I have to find a reason," he said

"I know I’ve thought the sa perfu free, shiht She was a bit too thin, but even thin, she had a nice shape S at hi and quickly ta more

"What are you in the ood to reat place in Little Italy, andaround before I decided to stop by"

Her s until you find the truth, aren’t you?"

"Actually," he replied, "I’ve been hired to search for a ht now"

"Oh?"

"She disappeared down here"

She frowned "One of the prostitutes?"

"No Come on I’ll tell you about it over dinner"

She s"

"Hey, you’re the one who digs for a living," he rerilled every friend, acquaintance and total stranger as here or knew sorin "There’s no way to prove anything The only answer anyone caas line and happenstance"

She turned and started out, then hesitated and looked back, s"

"Okay, for the sake of argument, let’s say I’m not But I’m Matt’s cousin, so I can’t help but think…well, I can’t stop Can’t accept the obvious explanation Because of hireat francese at this place Veal or chicken--take your pick"

"Chicken Can’t help it, I avoid veal"

"Tell etarian"

"Not unless chicken has becoht into that one Strangely, it wasn’t at all aard being with her He liked her He could see why Matt had loved her But he had to reed to her and tread carefully

Joe Good old Joe The world’s best cousin, practically a brother He’d tried so hard to touch him He had to let Joe know that it was okay

Except that it wasn’t okay And he knehy, now that Joe had put it into words It hadn’t been a freak accident He’d been murdered

Why? Who would have killed so ure it out Good old Joe

Good old flesh-and-blood Joe

And Leslie

Leslie, who had thought Joe was him Did they really look that much alike? Or, rather, had they once resembled each other so much? Maybe Those closest seldo to dinner And Joe was a good guy Not slio Not that dinner ht away

Besides, ether to discover the truth that had eluded theed to secure an outside table The street was closed to traffic, and the weather was unbelievably bal Joe had known Rudolfo, the owner and host, for years, and he was co smarmy They had a bottle of his best Chianti and an antipasto of cheeses, etables almost iry They both ordered the chicken francese, and then she sat back, her head cocked at an angle, and sirl whose picture was in the paper?"