Maggie approached with a pitcher of ice water. ''I go down every year to watch a couple of games. Have you been?'' she asked Raphael.
Oh no. This could turn out badly.
''Never had the chance,'' he said. ''I hear Fort Myers is very nice, though.''
''Fort Myers?'' Maggie said. ''Oh no, I go to Legends Field in Tampa.''
It was like watching a train wreck.
''Legends Field?'' Raphael asked. ''Spring-training home of the Yankees?''
The tone in his voice had Maggie's back stiffening. ''That's right. Do you have a problem with that?''
I kicked Raphael under the table. His cursing out the Yankees was nothing new to me—however, I didn't want Maggie to fillet him.
Sparks flew from his eyes. ''No, ma'am.''
Maggie filled our glasses, cocked her chin, and sashayed away.
He huffed and puffed once she was out of earshot. ''And you're friends with her?''
''What happened to all your lectures about fairness and equality?''
''Doesn't pertain where the Yankees are concerned.''
Even though the Yankees hadn't been so good in the past few years, the rivalry between them and the Red Sox ran deep. ''So stubborn, Pasa.''
He grinned sheepishly. ''Despite her bad taste in baseball teams, she makes a delicious fish-and-chips platter.''
''I don't think now is the time to ask for the recipe.''
I wanted to ask if he suspected Maggie and my father were an item, but Raphael would never tell, even if he knew for certain. It was one of the reasons he'd worked for my father for nearly thirty years.
As Raphael talked about the Sox's excellent chances next year (I think Maggie's comment had gotten under his skin), my mind wandered back to Max. If he'd been found yet.
It didn't take long for my thoughts to twist their way to the skeleton. And to Sean. And the vision I'd seen of the two of us.
''Uva?'' Raphael asked. ''You're a million miles away. What's wrong?''
Where to start? With a fear of failing my father? With the guilt of not being able to find a lost little boy? With my worry about Em? With having a vision of a dead body? With Dovie and her matchmaking and horrible eavesdropping?
I'd need a week to get it all out. Instead, I told him about the one thing I couldn't comprehend. I leaned in, across the table, and dropped my voice. ''I had a vision.''
He waited, as I knew he would.
''Of the future. At least I think it's the future. That is, if the vision isn't a figment of my imagination.''
Lines creased his forehead as he frowned. ''Of what?''
I was afraid he'd ask that. ''Not important.'' There were some things he just didn't need to know.
''Are you sure it was of the future and not a recovered memory?''
''I'm sure.'' No way had I gone to bed with Sean and forgotten about it. That's like forgetting you won the lottery. Just didn't happen. ''This has never happened to me before. Why would a new,'' I dropped my voice, '' ability appear now, out of nowhere?''
''I wish I could answer you.''
He didn't know how much I wished he could, too.
I reached for my wallet to pay our bill, but Raphael stopped me.
''But this was my idea,'' I protested.
''But my pleasure.''
''You're such a charmer. I'm surprised some woman hasn't fallen for you yet.'' I gathered up my files. Was that woman at my fingertips?
''A heart has to be willing, Uva.''
True enough.
''I'll walk you out,'' he added, tossing money on the table.
I rose, turned toward the door, and froze.
Preston Bailey sat in the seat directly behind mine. She looked up and smiled.
''Hello,'' I said shakily.
''Why, Ms. Valentine, what a surprise. Who's your lunch companion?'' She eyed Raphael.
''Just a friend,'' I answered vaguely.
The corner of her mouth quirked as she stared at me, a gleam in her perceptive eyes. ''I see.''
I hurried away, Raphael on my heels. As we stepped out into the sunshine, I took a deep breath. It wasn't what Preston Bailey had seen that bothered me.
It was what she might have heard.
TEN
At four thirty Sean picked me up at the commuter boat dock in
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