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Before this depressing thought could gain any real purchase in her mind, she got out of bed.

She dressed in a bright yellow sundress, knowing from the weather report that it was supposed to be a hot day. Autumn would soon be approaching, her mother’s favorite season. That was when the stifling temperatures grew more pleasant, and the greens looked greener, and the yellows appeared brighter.

Monique sat on the edge of her bed as thoughts of her mother momentarily overwhelmed her. She had been so desperate to find the murderer, and that desperation still lived deep inside her.

She was just waiting for a better idea to strike so she could continue hunting the killer. Of course, she didn’t intend to say anything to Jacque until she was ready with that kind of a plan. With her body healing up nicely, thoughts of catching the murderer and the person who had beaten her were more and more on her mind again.

But right now, she was ready to go out and see Jacque. Were things going to be awkward between them this morning after the night they had shared?

There was only one way to find out. She got up from the bed and left the room. As with most mornings, Jacque sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee before him. At her appearance, he gazed at her and smiled. The smile put her nerves at ease.

“Good morning,” he said.

“And a good morning to you,” she replied brightly. She got herself a cup of coffee and then joined him at the table.

“How did you sleep?” he asked.

“Like a baby. What about you?” She took a tentative sip of the hot brew.

“Same,” he replied. “I thought after lunch we could go out back and do a little fishing.”

“That sounds really exciting. I’ve never fished before,” she replied.

He looked at her in obvious surprise. “Never? You grew up in the swamp, and you’ve never been fishing?”

“Never. Mama paid some of the men in the swamp to keep us supplied in fish for meals, but us girls were never allowed to fish. It was one of her rules I never really understood. I think maybe she was afraid we’d fall off the bank and get eaten by a gator.” She was grateful that there was no awkwardness between them this morning.

“Then this afternoon I’ll make sure you learn to fish like a pro,” he said. “And I’ll even keep you from being eaten by a gator.”

She laughed. “Thanks, I appreciate that. I’m also feeling a bit of a challenge coming on. You teach me, and I’ll pull in more fish than you.”

“Ha!” His eyes lit up. “Challenge accepted. Let’s say if I win, then you have to cook the fish for dinner tonight.”

“Fine, and if I win, then we have a dance party in the living room. Just you and me, dancing to some fun music.” She’d missed dancing. It had been such a part of her life before her mother’s murder…before her sisters had found love.

“Great, but I’m not dusting off my dancing shoes just yet,” he said with a sparkle in his eyes. “Hmm, I can just taste the fish you’re going to cook up for dinner.”

She laughed. “You’re a jerk.”

“Maybe a little,” he agreed. “Now, let’s talk about what we want for breakfast.”

The morning passed pleasantly. They small-talked off and on, and in between he read and she played on her phone. After a lunch of sandwiches and chips, they went out the back door where he handed her one of the fishing poles that leaned against the shanty.

The afternoon sun was warm but a slight breeze kept it pleasant. He led her down a path away from his shanty and to his fishing hole. “Wow, nothing like having a great place like this right outside your back door,” she said. It was a fairly large pond of water. Trees lined it, offering both shade and beauty as they rose up majestically.

“It is nice,” he agreed.

“I guess you’ve missed a lot of fishing while I’ve been here.” She looked up at him.

“Not so much. I’ve managed to get in a little fishing while you are at work.”

“That’s good. I know my presence here has disrupted your life, and you hate that.”

“You haven’t really disrupted my life,” he said with a wry smile that belied his words. “Now, the first rule of fishing is learning to bait your own hook.” He set down the tackle box he carried and then opened a container that held big, fat earthworms. “Watch while I bait mine, and then you can bait yours.”

“Yucky,” she said as he pulled out a big fat worm and then threaded it on his hook.

“Now, your turn.”