Duncan considered a moment. "Did I at least kiss her, too?"

"You did. You want to hear about Joe?"

Duncan jingled the keys in his pocket. "I was about to drive into the city, check in on him."

"I can save you the trip. He's doing better than I expected considering the shape he was in yesterday when I first saw him."

"Was his wife-"

"She was there," Phin interrupted. "She was pretty damn pissed, but she was there. He's got a violent sunburn, which they're treating, and I've approved, as his attorney, the court-appointed psychiatrist. As you're not pressing any charges, he's not going to do any serious time. He'll get help, which is what you wanted."

"Yeah." So why did he feel so guilty?

"If you hire him again, Dune, I'll kick your ass."

"You can't kick my ass." Duncan gave him a slow and crooked grin. "You don't fight dirty enough, black boy."

"I'll make an exception. He'll get help. His wife will take him back or she won't. But you've already gone beyond what most would, and you hired him the best counsel in Savannah."

"Better be, for what you charge," Duncan mumbled.

Phin only grinned. "Got yourself to blame for that. Well, I'm going to head back and overcharge a few other clients."

"What about the redhead?"

"What redhead?" Tipping down his sunglasses, Phin frowned at Duncan over them. "There were a couple of blondes and one delicious brunette trying to move on you last night, but you were too busy brooding into your beer to intercept the passes."

"No, not last night. The redhead. Phoebe MacNamara. Lieutenant Phoebe MacNamara. God." On a long, exaggerated sigh, Duncan patted his heart. "Just saying that gets my juices up, so I believe I'll repeat myself. Lieutenant Phoebe MacNamara."

Phin rolled his eyes up to the white ceiling of the covered veranda. "You're a case, Swift, God knows. What are you going to do with a cop?"