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Hez appeared clear-eyed and sober, and he patted the bench beside him overlooking the sparkling Bon Secour Bay. Maybe his drinking had been a fluke. Savannah sat beside him, feeling the warmth of his body on the chill winter day. She threw the last crumbs of her beignet to the gulls and ordered Marley, her black Aussie, and Cody to leave them be.

The two dogs were becoming best friends, and they made a strange sight together. Marley with his trim athletic build that was all Australian shepherd and Cody, who looked like no other dog she’d ever seen. He seemed to be made out of leftover parts from random breeds: Chihuahua legs, Great Dane ears, greyhound body, and an elegant—but crooked—Chesapeake Bay tail.

The gulls stopped their squawking long enough to gobble up her offering before demanding more. She opened her hands to show them. “All gone. You’ll have to find someone else.”

The nearest gull pinned her with a black-eyed stare before fluttering off to a group of teenagers fishing out on the pier. “There’s Jane.”

“I asked her to meet us here. I want to talk to her about the mole in her office. Someone planted that bottle in my trash.”

That unbelievable story again. Savannah’s mood deflated, and she laced her fingers together. She couldn’t help him if he wouldn’t admit to the truth. She pinned a smile back in place as the police chief, Jane Dixon, reached them. Even when she was in uniform, it was hard to miss her resemblance to a younger version of Reese Witherspoon but with chin-length light brown hair. Even at barely five-two, Jane was a force to be reckoned with.

Jane carried a cooler and set it on the grass beside the bench. The dogs sniffed the container before dashing off after a butterfly. “I brought fish to feed Pete.”

As if he’d heard his name, a brown pelican flew down to join her. She crooned to him as she tossed him fish. “People are used to me doing this every day and won’t think anything about it. You want to talk about a mole in my office?”

Hez leaned back and extended his arm across the park bench behind Savannah. “The file on Ella’s death probably mentions her love of Justin’s peanut butter cups. It’s not something Savannah and I talk about. That detail had to come from the file. And someone put an empty Mondavi cab bottle in my trash. I think there has to be a mention of that in the file too.”

With the last of the fish gone, Jane shut the cooler lid and wiped her hands on the grass. “I reviewed the file after your text. I found a mention of the peanut butter cups, but there was nothing about that brand of wine.”

“You’re certain? I don’t know how else anyone would know I used to drink that brand. I haven’t had any type of alcohol in over a year. I want to find out who planted it. And why.”

Jane’s hazel eyes were blank and professional. “I’m taking the idea of a mole very seriously, and I’ll continue to dig to find him or her.”

She gave a polite nod. “I’d better get back to work. Thanks for the information.”

Savannah tried to analyze Jane’s just-the-facts demeanor. She hadn’t dismissed Hez’s assertion that a mole had planted the bottle, but she hadn’t tried to encourage it either. Maybe she thought it was as crazy as Savannah did. Her breaths grew shallow and her palms were slick at the thought of pushing him about this, but she had to. She couldn’t tuck her head under her wing like the gull at her feet. She loved Hez too much to ignore the danger.

Hez shifted on the bench and withdrew his arm. “Well, that was disappointing.”

Savannah curled her fingers into her palm. “She’ll keep digging.”

She put her hand on his knee. “I love you, Hez, and I’m committed to you. You know that, right?”

His gaze searched hers. “I love you too. I never stopped. It feels like there’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere.”

She shook her head. “No ‘but.’ I want us to be as solid as possible for our new beginning. What would you think about getting premarital counseling? I made plenty of mistakes the first time, and I don’t want to fail you again.”

“Babe, I failed you. We both know it was my fault.”

“The fault of a marriage’s failure is always on both sides. I want us to start again the right way with our marriage centering on the right things—love and faith. I never doubted you loved me and Ella, but life took us into uncharted waters. I should have told you the minute I saw you drifting deeper into your work and away from me and Ella. And after she died, I should have intervened when I saw the wine bottles piling up. And you should have talked to me about how you were feeling. If we make sure we know what to do next time, our marriage will start out stronger.”

He slipped his arm around her and leaned in close enough for her to catch the tantalizing scent of his skin mixed with soap. His lips brushed her ear. “Have I told you how beautiful you look this morning? I’d do anything for you. You know that.”

His reply bolstered her courage for the next step, and she leaned into his embrace. “How have you been feeling?”

He nuzzled her neck. “Fine.”

“I think you should have a checkup, just to make sure. Maybe a CT scan to make sure everything is okay.”

He pulled away, and she felt him stiffen. “A concussion can cause memory issues.”

“This is about the wine bottle, isn’t it? You don’t think I picked up a stray empty bottle along the road and plunked it in my trash, then forgot. You think I bought it and drank until I passed out. I wouldn’t forget something like that, Savannah. I’d have a hangover, and I’d know.”

His voice was tight, and he didn’t look at her.

She touched his arm and felt the tense muscles under his shirt. “I just want us to be honest and open with each other. I’m not going anywhere, Hez.”

He finally turned a furious gaze on her. “Do you think I’m drinking again, Savannah? Do you not believe me when I tell you someone put the bottle in my trash?”

She tried to cup his face with her hands, but he shook off her touch. “I don’t want to fight.”

“Neither do I, so I’d better leave.”

He called a reluctant Cody to him and clipped on his leash.

She rose and took a step toward him. “Hez, don’t be mad.”

He didn’t answer, and she sensed his despair and hurt from the stiff way he walked toward his car. She’d handled this all wrong.

* * *

“Bye, Mom!”

Simon called as he climbed into the cab of Will Dixon’s spotless silver pickup, decorated with TGU Gators stickers.

“Bye, Simon!”

Jess called back. She watched from the pillared entrance of her house as they drove down the long curve of her driveway and disappeared around the corner. That was the first time he had called her “Mom”

instead of “Mum.”

His English accent was melting away faster than ice cream on the Fourth of July. Six months from now, he’d probably have an impeccable southern drawl. She chuckled at the thought.

Simon had made the change from an upper-crust Essex boarding school to an Alabama public school with surprising ease. Of course she’d planned on putting him in an Ivy League prep school, but he had been adamant about attending public school. She couldn’t argue with that really—the local schools had fine faculties thanks to TGU’s influence on the area.

Having Will as a tutor certainly helped. Simon’s only academic deficit was American history, a subject he easily could have learned on his own. Will was a good teacher, but he was an even better surrogate big brother. Simon idolized him, and the fact that Will was the starting quarterback for the Gators had given Simon instant social standing at school. It was a pity they’d be separated soon, when TGU imploded and Will was forced to transfer to another school.

Her watch buzzed against her wrist. Almost time for her call with Punisher and English Cream. She sighed and went back inside.

She did a quick sweep of her home office for bugs. She had no reason to suspect anyone was spying on her, but if she waited until she suspected something, it would probably be too late. Satisfied that the room was clean, she flicked on her computer. The gorgeous dog and grim death’s head appeared on her monitor.

English Cream started the conversation. “Greetings, all. I see deliveries have resumed and we’re even making a dent in our backlog. Nicely done.”

“Thanks.”

Jess had put in a lot of late nights to make that happen. It was nice to have her work noticed. “I’m still short-staffed, but I can hold up my end.”

“And I’m holding up mine,”

Punisher added. “The new overland route adds a day and some costs, but it works. What about the money angle?”

“The vehicle is almost finished,”

English Cream said. “The funds are available for transfer. When will the debt consolidation be complete?”

Jess tapped her newly manicured nails on the desktop. She hadn’t expected English Cream to be ready this quickly. She had been so busy getting the deliveries back on schedule that she hadn’t made much progress on the university’s finances. “Not yet. I’m working on it.”

“Better work fast. Someone will be watching soon. You need to do better.”

Punisher seized on her shortcomings, as always. Their relationship in real life at least was better, but it was his way of making sure she performed to his expectations.

He was right. Jess needed to get as much done as possible while TGU had no president or permanent provost. Once those positions were filled, her actions might be scrutinized. “Well, at least we don’t need to worry about the lawyer watching.”

Punisher gave a harsh laugh. “Heard about that. Guy can’t think about anything except that bottle.”

The bottle ploy had worked even better than Jess had hoped. She had surreptitiously copied Hez’s key while she and Simon were at his condo for a dinner with him and Savannah. Then it had been a simple matter to slip in while he was testifying in Beckett’s trial and drop the bottle in his trash. She’d expected him to find it that evening. That would have rattled him plenty and kept his focus off TGU’s finances—but having Savannah find it must have been devastating. No wonder he was obsessed with that bottle.

She tried not to think about the pain in her sister’s face when they met at University Grounds. The double whammy of the tenure committee’s decision and the wine bottle must have hit her like a sledgehammer. But Jess didn’t have a choice, did she?

“What about our police source?”

English Cream asked. “Has the lawyer tied the bottle to them?”

Jess’s ergonomic chair squeaked as she leaned back. “Yes, but the lawyer is wrong, of course, so that’s just taking him down a dead end. If anything, it’s leading him away from the source.”

“I see.”

English Cream paused for a moment. “What about you? What will you do if he accuses you?”

Jess had thought of that too. “I’ll deny it, of course. It doesn’t matter whether he believes me. Even if he blames me, he’ll chalk it up to our, ah, personal history.”

This wasn’t the first time she’d done something that undermined Hez’s relationship with Savannah. He’d never connect the university’s finances to Jess putting a wine bottle in his trash.

“Good. Very good.”

Jess could almost see English Cream’s little nod of approval. “Perhaps we should accelerate our plans—strike while the lawyer is distracted and key supervisory positions are vacant.”

“Right,”

Punisher said. “Best time to rob a store is when no one’s watching the register.”

Jess’s fingers dug into the armrests of her chair. She couldn’t let TGU implode while Savannah was still there. Jess had a golden parachute carefully packed for herself, but her sister didn’t. Savannah would be in free fall—jobless and with a black mark on her résumé. And she might try to interfere with the university’s collapse. She could get hurt. “We should stick to the original timetable. Acting sooner creates too many risks.”

“I think not,”

English Cream replied. “We move when the money is ready to be transferred.”

“Right,”

Punisher put in. “No time like the present.”

Jess’s gut clenched. She had to save her oblivious sister from the Mack truck barreling toward her, but how?