Lady Be Good by Nancy Martin

they asked him to do? Maybe he refused to cooperate? And that’s why they killed him?”
    Luke was silent. But his hands were tight on the steering wheel.
    Grace reached over and squeezed his arm. It felt like iron beneath her hand.
    “I’m sorry,” she said. “He was your friend.”
    “He was a good guy. One of the best athletes I ever knew. For him to go down like that—it’s bad enough. But to corrupt the game—that really bothers me.”
    “I’m sure it’s upsetting,” Grace agreed. She took out her phone again. Flipping through it, she found a photo and showed it to Luke. “This is a picture of Emma Blackbird and Jake. I found it online.”
    The photo showed Jake looking handsome, but he was outshone by Emma, a tall, sleek redhead in a dress that clung to her rangy curves. They had their arms around each other, and Emma’s hip fit against Jake’s body.
    Luke took his eyes off the road long enough to glance at the photo. “She’s a good-looking woman.”
    “Yes. Emma is a champion show jumper. You know—horses. She trained with the Olympic team before she got hurt in the car accident.” Grace looked at the photo a little longer, but finally shut it off and dropped it into her handbag. “Doesn’t that picture make you feel we should do something?”
    “Do something?” Luke said, sounding amazed. “We’re not going to do anything. We’re going to forget we ever heard any of this.”
    “But--”
    Luke snapped, “Forget it, Grace. The Abruzzo family—they’re dangerous people.”
    “We should tell the police.”
    “Tell them what?” he demanded. “That we heard Jake was mixed up with the Abruzzos? That maybe they asked him to throw games? What self-respecting cop is going to do anything but laugh in our faces? And think what the media could do with this. The game would be—it’s just not worth it. And mainly? We don’t have any evidence.”
    Grace sank back into her seat again. “I see what you mean.”
    “I’m sorry,” Luke said, not sounding sorry in the least. “Your friend’s sister might feel blown away by her husband’s death, but we’re not going to change anything for her by poking around in Jake’s gambling problems.”
    Grace rubbed her forehead. Her phone rang in her bag. Reluctantly, she checked her watch. “It’s nine o’clock. That means my publicist is at her desk and so are half a dozen other people who will need to talk to me this morning. I’m going to have to take some calls. I’m sorry. A book tour is very complicated.”
    “It’s okay,” Luke said, making an effort to calm down. “Take care of your business, Princess. I’ll just do the driving. And try to forget about this.”
    Grace doubted he could forget any of it. She could see Luke was just as bothered by what they had learned as she was.

7.
    The details that came flying at Grace during the next couple of hours made her dizzy. She took phone calls, made notes in her day planner, checked her Twitter feed, organized her upcoming travel arrangements, and eased the minds of the many people who had counted on her leaving Pittsburgh by plane and getting to her next stop on time.
    “Do you have the TV station address handy?” Luke asked hours later, interrupting her texting as he pulled the Jaguar down an exit ramp of the expressway. “We’re almost into Philly.”
    Grace found the address in her notes and read it to him. “Can you find it? There’s a GPS app on my phone if--”
    “I can find it,” he said. “I know my way around pretty well. Philly is a party city.”
    “You like to party, I gather,” Grace said.
    “Hell, yes. Not as much now as I used to, but, yeah.”
    “You also drink milk and talk to your dad on the phone.”
    He grinned. “And I like dancing to a loud band, too. I know a couple of great clubs in this city. We could hit them tonight. What do you say?”
    Grace’s idea of a club was more along the lines of quiet, paneled rooms where elderly men gathered to read the