Linda Fairstein - Lethal Legacy

“Are you getting cold, darling?”

“No, I’m fine. I don’t want to go in yet.”

The involuntary chill that swept over me had nothing to do with the weather. There would be hearings and trials to follow, a system trying to make sense of the senseless deaths of two young women.

“You can get this off your mind now, can’t you?”

Judge Moffett had approved my application for the familial DNA search of Wesley the Weasel Griggs. A homicide case that had languished for eight years might now be solved by science, and I would have a new challenge to fill the fall days.

“Tonight, yes,” I said, as Luc swept back my hair and put his lips against my forehead.

“And tomorrow?”

“Yes.” I laughed as he moved his lips to the tip of my nose.

Months earlier, after Joan and Jim’s wedding, Luc had embraced me for the first time in this secluded cove. All the best memories of my life were connected to this peaceful, glorious island.

“And Monday, after I’ve flown home to France?”

“Hard to predict,” I said. “Au revoir, mon amour.”

“Tuesday?” he asked, entwining his legs with mine in the shallow water that lapped at our feet.

“Maybe.”

“Only maybe? I’ve got some serious work to do before I leave,” Luc said.

I put my arms around his neck and we kissed each other, over and over again. Then I pulled him to his feet and led him up the hill to the outdoor shower. I wanted to wash off the sand from the beach-and some of the grit I carried with me, always, from my job.

“C’mon, Luc,” I said. “Time to play ball.”