“Perhaps you’ll write a book one day,” Pope offered.
“Perhaps.”
“We could write a book, couldn’t we, Jerald?” Lynda brushed the back of her hand across her husband’s jaw. “Our life has been anything but dull.”
Pope nodded in answer to his wife’s question. “We’ve traveled extensively. The deeper and darker the territory, the better.”
Lynda laughed. “Africa and Mexico were my favorites.”
“The unknown intrigues my wife, Sarah. Whether it’s a safari or a venture deep into rugged, uncivilized terrain. She loves a challenge.”
“What I love most,” Lynda qualified, “is having you at my side wherever I am.”
He touched his wife, the slightest caress of her arm. Sarah observed the interaction. Wondered what it was like to have that kind of connection to another human being. Her one stab at a real relationship had ended badly. Today had been further proof of that reality.
After things went south between her and Lex, Sarah had come to terms with the idea that she didn’t have the proper foundation for building a relationship. The Popes, the Conners, all had something she didn’t: a childhood that included the necessary pattern for developing relationships.
She hadn’t gotten that from her parents.
Again, Conner attempted to elbow his way into her thoughts. No way. He was one of them. Sure, the sex had been great, but that was where their connection began and ended. Besides, on some level his life was just as screwed up as hers, he simply hadn’t recognized it yet.
The last thing either of them needed was each other.
“Did you formally study for your chosen profession?”
Sarah blinked. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“Of course she studied,” Pope said to his wife. “Sarah has spent her life analyzing people. My guess is she has it down to a science. Isn’t that right, Sarah?”
“That’s right. College and I didn’t mix.” Probably had something to do with the alcohol and the bad memories of her childhood. She opted to leave that part out of the conversation. Not that it mattered. Pope could very well have a copy of her college transcript.
“Are you analyzing us right now?” Lynda searched Sarah’s face. The green eyes were stunning with her black hair and porcelain skin.
The question allowed Sarah’s tension to recede a fraction. She laughed softly, then allowed her face to show just how dead serious she was. “Of course.”
The Popes had a good laugh over that one. But it was the look they shared that gave away the slightest hint of their own tension, at least from the wife.
Sarah made her nervous. Or maybe it was the subject. Not everyone was immune to the emotional impact of murder discussed so casually.
“Which has been your most difficult case?” Pope asked, keeping the conversation moving.
“Definitely the—”
A door slammed in the foyer. Pope pushed to his feet. “It sounds as if the errant offspring has returned.” He glanced at Sarah. “Excuse me.”
“It’s about time.” Lynda watched her husband go, then turned back to Sarah. “You were saying.”
Sarah decided to change her answer. “I think the most difficult case has been this one.”
Lynda looked surprised. “Really? You’ve only been here a couple of days. Has this one proven that unsolvable already? The police are equally puzzled, I hear.”
“Yes. This one has the police bewildered as well. I can’t explain it, but ...” Sarah might as well say it. “Nothing is what it seems. I’m certain we’re missing something that’s right under our noses.”
“My, my,” Lynda noted, her tone amused but carefully so, “you’ve been in Youngstown a mere two and a half days and you’ve already found us out.”
“Don’t misunderstand me—”
“No. No.” Lynda held up a hand. “You’re correct in your conclusion.” The polite, collected expression shifted, the change ever so subtle. Her lips tightened. Eyes tapered in unconcealed derision. “Our village is filled with good, decent people but they are very shortsighted and incredibly narrow-minded.”
