Win said nothing again. He hated to repeat himself.

“They think Esperanza killed him?”

“Good to see your vacation hasn't dulled your sharp powers of deduction.” Win tilted his face toward the sun.

“What sort of evidenpe do they have?”

“The murder weapon, for one. Bloodstains. Fibers. Do you have any sunblock?”

“But how…?” Myron studied his friend's face. As usual, it gave away nothing. “Did she do it?”

“I have no idea.”

“Did you ask her?”

“Esperanza does not wish to speak with me.”

“What?”

“She does not wish to speak with you either.”

“I don't understand,” Myron said. “Esperanza wouldn't kill anyone.”

“You're quite sure about that, are you?”

Myron swallowed. He had thought that his recent experience would help him understand Win better. Win had killed too. Often, in fact. Now that Myron had done likewise, he thought that there would be a fresh bond. But there wasn't. Just the opposite, in fact. Their shared experienced was opening a whole new chasm.

Win checked his watch. “Why don't you go get packed?”

“There's nothing I need to bring.”

Win motioned to the house. Terese stood there, watching them silently. “Then say good-bye to La Derriere and let's be on our way.”

CHAPTER 2

Terese had put on a robe. She leaned against the doorway and waited.

Myron was not sure what to say. He settled for “Thank you.”

She nodded.

“Do you want to come along?” he asked.

“No.”

“You can't stay here forever.”

“Why not?”

Myron thought about it for a moment. “You know anything about boxing?”

Terese sniffed the air. “Do I detect the distinct odor of an upcoming sports metaphor?”

“I'm afraid so,” he said.

“Ugh. Go on.”

“This whole thing is sort of like a boxing match,” Myron began. “We've been ducking and diving and weaving and trying to keep away from our opponent. But we can only do that for so long. Eventually we have to throw a punch.”