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All of which was irrelevant Every moment of the past, every bad decision and terrible accident that led him to this point, was moot

The only thing that one horribly wrong He had to ht Who betrayed Dad? Joel’s partner, Richard Bonavie, or the blonde at the drop-off—Vanessa O’Neill?

The legal syste with Matt, whose hands were bloody right down to the bone, but it wasn’t too late to get justice for his father That’s why he was here, and the women inside that house were the key to it all

He angled the rearview mirror and checked his reflection—a little closer to potential ax murderer than was entirely necessary, but there wasn’t ot a razor

The scruff of his beard rasped under his hands and he thought about all his clients, hiring the cool and slick Matt Woods to design their sualleries and condos

That guy doesn’t live here anyreen eyes that stared back

Matt threw open the door of his rented car and sla to hteous “where the hell is your mother?”

Smooth Oh, so smooth

The bayou around him seemed to pulse and breathe It armer than St Louis, denser, the air thick and somehow both sweet and spicy Like flowers dipped in cayenne

He liked it It ry for food and a woman at the same time

The house, he assessed with an knowledgeable eye, was an aging stunner It sat alone on the road, about a mile and a half frorand da and a few of the white hurricane shutters were ant Built to withstand the Southern weather, and to look good doing it

He iined the s lit with candles and the sound offrom the open front door

The front door was freshly, brazenly painted scarlet

Matt believed doors could be sexy He believed s and wood and concrete could be erotic But nothing he’d ever seen quite matched the sexual statement of that red door

It looked like the house of an aging htly ill repute, which would be Margot’s influence But he didn’t kno Savannah the librarian fit in