Mayor’s office, 4:00 p.m.

Mayor Joseph Pratt was one of the few members of Birmingham’s upper crust who wouldn’t be at the Darcy Chandler memorial celebration. Worked to Dan’s advantage. He needed a moment of the man’s time. Although the subject was Darcy Chandler, which made the timing rather ironic.

Since the mayor was a busy man and never wanted anyone to forget it, Dan didn’t mind waiting for a bit. He paged through a magazine that touted the wonders of the Magic City. Birmingham had come a very long way in the last fifty years, but there was a good distance to go yet and Dan wanted to be a part of that journey.

Joseph Pratt was basically a good man, but his and Dan’s visions for the city and the way law enforcement should be conducted didn’t always mesh. Some days it was an uphill battle. Others, like today, reminded him of why he had worked so hard to reach the position he held.

Jess had called him not ten minutes ago. Her instincts about the shoes had been right all along. There was far more to the Darcy Chandler case than her husband tossing her over the railing.

Dan did not want to know how she had learned that both Darcy and Alexander had given Corrine Dresher large sums of money over the past eighteen months—since her arrival in Birmingham. There also appeared to be some evidence that these monetary gifts had been ongoing for years. Somehow Jess had possession of this no doubt illegally obtained information. Be that as it may, that knowledge, along with Sandra Butler’s statement about the note to her daughter, not to mention the feathers found in the chandelier that were likely the same ones found in the victim’s hand, compelled Dan to reopen the case.

The mayor wasn’t going to like it. But he would get right with it because Dan was not backing off. Pratt had no problem with a speedy closure when there was no evidence of foul play. But that had changed now.

Jess might be a long way from nailing the perpetrator, but she had rock-solid reasonable cause for further investigation. Chief Black was on board and en route to help Jess with the operation they all hoped would close the file on this one once and for all.

“Chief, the mayor will see you now.”

Dan stood. He fastened the middle button of his jacket and produced a smile for Pratt’s secretary. “Thank you.”

The mayor was scouring letters and signing next to the little yellow tabs that called out for his attention. “Have a seat, Dan. I’ll be right with you. I just have to finish this so Martha can leave on time today.”

Dan took the seat he always claimed when he visited the mayor: the lavish leather wingback chair that gave him a view out the window just past the mayor’s shoulder.

Pratt signed twice more, then closed the folder. He looked up, his gaze settling heavily on Dan. “Do we have a problem?”

“I wanted to stop by and give you a heads-up on a change in the status of an investigation.”

Pratt sighed and removed his reading glasses. “I spent the better part of the last two days attempting to smooth things over with several high-level federal offices. Please tell me that your new deputy chief hasn’t gotten into more trouble. I tell you, Dan, I have to wonder if hiring Ms. Harris was not a grave mistake.”

Oh, that was perfect. “Actually,” Dan said, “she’s why I’m here.”

“Good heavens, man. What has she done now? The whole city is up in arms over DeShawn Simmons’s disappearance and the fact that your department has been able to do nothing about it. I can tell you right now, Dan, if that young man is found dead, he will be escalated to martyr status instantly, right alongside his poor friend. Between his case not getting the same treatment as those young ladies two weeks ago and the growing animosity between certain Latino and African American sections of the community, we are in for a hurricane of trouble.”

Maintaining his cool proved easier than Dan had expected. “Jess and her team are coordinating that investigation with members from all over the department. She is doing all humanly possible to find that young man. Besides that, she has discovered evidence of foul play in the Darcy Chandler case. The investigation is officially reopened.”

Pratt’s eyebrows winged upward. “The husband confessed, for Pete’s sake! Since when is a confession not enough proof for you?”

Dan stood. “Since that confession prevented the real murderer from being brought to justice. I wanted to let you know. Have a nice evening.”

Since Pratt appeared speechless, which was rare, Dan headed for the door. He had one more stop to make before he caught up with Jess.

“You are aware of my personal feelings on the matter,” Pratt said before Dan was out the door.

Dan considered just saying yes and leaving it at that, but there had been too much of exactly that in the past couple of years. He was done playing the political games.

“I am.” He turned back to the man who held the highest position of power in the city of Birmingham. “I’m also aware that’s likely why your daughter-in-law was whisked out of town rather than being available to offer any useful information she might have had to help with the Chandler investigation. I hope that wasn’t the case. Interfering with a homicide investigation is a very serious offense.”

The standoff lasted all of five seconds.

“Cynthia will be back in town tomorrow. If you have any questions for her, I’m certain she will be more than happy to assist in the investigation of the death of her friend.”

Dan gave him a nod.

“You know,” Pratt said, delaying him once more, “there is a storm coming. If Harris doesn’t find that young man alive, there’s very little chance we’ll be able to stop it, and your deputy chief is going to be right in the middle of it since she appears to be the face of your department these days.”

“I’m aware of the trouble brewing.”

“She pushes too hard, Dan. Crosses too many lines. I hope this city can tolerate her brand of justice.”

Dan held his gaze for a beat, then two. “So do I because I have a feeling that her brand of justice is going to be demanded by the citizens of Birmingham from now on.”

“I suppose we’ll see.”

Dan left it at that. The old regime was crumbling. Pratt had better get used to it.

That was the thing about power. Too much changed a man. Joseph Pratt wasn’t a bad man… just one determined to hang on to the power he had achieved.

The drive to Mountain Brook took thirty minutes instead of twenty since it was rush hour on a Friday afternoon. Everyone wanted out of the city. Annette had called and begged him to stop by when he left the office. She and Andrea had gotten through Darcy’s memorial service and gone to the celebration at the Cotton Avenue house. But Annette just wasn’t feeling up to staying, so she’d gone home almost immediately. Andrea had wanted to stay, so Annette was alone and needed someone to talk to.

He parked in her drive and made the journey up the walk to her door. When they were married, he had lived in this house with her and Andrea. It wasn’t his home and at first he hadn’t wanted to move in here. But Annette had pointed out that Andrea needed to feel like she hadn’t lost her home as well as her father. So for Andrea’s sake he had moved in. But this had never been a home to him. This had been Brandon Denton’s home. It still was as far as Dan was concerned. Whether Denton opted to stay here or not.

Annette opened the door before he had a chance to knock. Her face was flushed from crying. That was the first thing he noted. The second was that she was wearing a robe.

“I’m so glad you came.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him inside.

“I can’t stay long,” he warned as she closed the door. And locked it.

She turned to Dan, more tears crested on her lashes. “He says that since Andrea is in college we should sell the house. Downsize. He wants me to give up my home. I must have been out of my mind to take him back.”

“You have an outstanding attorney.” He knew this from experience. “If you want to keep the house, fight for it.” Dan surveyed the soaring foyer. “Make sure that’s what you really want. It’s a big place to take care of alone.”

She wrapped her arms around him. “Come sit with me. Would you like a glass of wine or a beer?”

He removed himself from her embrace. “I can’t stay, Annette. I have to meet Jess and Detectives Wells and Harper. We have some issues to iron out on a case.”

A frown worried her brow. “Can you come back after you’re finished? I really need to talk to you.” She hugged her arms around herself. “You know what I’m going through better than anyone. You always know the right course to take.”

“I do know what you’re going through, Annette. We’ve been there before. After your first divorce from Brandon. That’s a place I can’t revisit. I adore Andrea and I hope you and I can remain friends, but that’s all we can be.”

He’d done it. Said what needed to be said.

Tears welled in her eyes and he wanted to bang his head against the wall. He absolutely did not want to hurt her. But she was forcing the issue.

“It’s Jess, isn’t it?” She blinked back the tears. Resignation registered in her expression. “You still have feelings for her.”

He plowed a hand through his hair and blew out a breath. Was it Jess? Not entirely. “You are a beautiful, intelligent woman, Annette. What we had for that short time was great. But it wasn’t what either of us really wanted. We found that out pretty quickly.” He laughed sadly. “And I genuinely appreciate our friendship now just as I did before we became a couple. This isn’t about another woman; it’s about facing the reality of who we are and what we really want. I think we both know this is not it.”

She waved him off and shook her head, her eyes bright again. “You’re right. I know this. But I also know it’s her you really want. Maybe that’s why I feel so afraid.”

He frowned. “Why would you be afraid?”

“We’ve known each other a long time, Dan. You’ve always been there for me. Especially these past three or four years. Now it feels like I’m losing every part of you to her.”

Well, there was a mouthful. “I don’t know what to say.”

She smiled, the expression a little sad. “You don’t have to say anything. I’ll get used to it and eventually I’ll be okay with it. I should have realized the first time I saw you two together that you were off the market.”

He laughed, sort of. “I’m not sure I was on the market, but Jess would definitely tell you that she has not made any major purchases, not even a lease.”

“Either she’s kidding herself or you’re kidding yourself. It’s inevitable, Dan. Mark my words.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know about that, but I do know this. Twenty years ago I screwed up with Jess. The thing I’ve realized the past couple of weeks is that if it takes me twenty more, I will make it right. We may never be anything more than friends, but I’ll do it right this time.”

Annette hugged him and whispered, “She’s a lucky woman.”

Dan felt a smile tug at his lips. “No. I’m the lucky one.”