Whiskey Beach by Nora Roberts

you were in any way abusive?”
    “I was pretty verbal the last time I spoke to her, publicly.”
    “You both were, from what I read. And all right, I understand the need for family to support, to rationalize, to do whatever comforts. But siccing a private detective on you, here? There’s nothing here. You haven’t been here in years, so what could he find?”
    Yeah, he could see having her to unload on had helped his grandmother. Despite his own reluctance to cover old ground, he knew it helped him. “It’s not that so much as letting me know they’re not going to let me walk away quietly. Her parents are dangling the threat of a wrongful death suit.”
    “Oh, Eli.”
    “I’d say this is just a way to let me know they’re using all their options.”
    “Why don’t their options include hounding her lover, or someone else she might’ve been involved with?”
    “He had a solid alibi. I didn’t.”
    “What’s so solid about it?”
    “He was home with his wife.”
    “Well, I read all that, heard all that, but his wife could be lying.”
    “Sure, but why? His wife, mortified and angry when she learned from the police he’d had this affair, with someone they both knew, reluctantly swore he’d been home since before six that evening. Their stories about the timeline, what they did, during the key time, meshed. Justin Suskind didn’t kill Lindsay.”
    “Neither did you.”
    “Neither did I, but when you factor opportunity, I had it, he didn’t.”
    “Whose side are you on?”
    He smiled a little. “Oh, I’m on my side. I know I didn’t kill her, just like I know, with what they have, I look guilty.”
    “Then they need more. How do you get more?”
    “We’ve pretty much tapped that out.”
    “They’ve hired a PI. You hire a PI.”
    “Did that, got nothing that helped.”
    “So just give up? Stop that.” She gave him a light shove. “Hire another one and try again.”
    “Now you sound like my lawyer.”
    “Good. Listen to your lawyer. You don’t just lie back and take it. That’s from experience,” she added. “It’s that long story I’ll tell you one day. For now, I’m saying taking it makes you feel sad and weak and cowardly. It makes you feel like a victim. You’re not a victim if you don’t allow it.”
    “Did someone hurt you?”
    “Yes. And for too long I did what you’re doing. I just accepted it. Fight back, Eli.” She laid her hands on his shoulders. “Whether or not they ever believe you’re innocent, they’ll know you’re not their whipping boy. And you’ll know it, too.”
    On impulse she rose to her toes, brushed her lips lightly over his. “Go call your lawyer,” she ordered, then walked away toward the beach steps.
    From above, on the long headland, Kirby Duncan snapped photos through his long lens.
    He’d figured something was going on between Landon and the long-stemmed brunette. Didn’t mean squat, of course, but his job was to document, to ask questions, to keep Landon off balance.
    People made more mistakes when they were off balance.

Six
    W HEN A BRA CAME INTO B LUFF H OUSE TO CLEAN, THE scent of coffee greeted her. She scanned the kitchen—he kept it clean and tidy—then, since he hadn’t done so, began to make a shopping list.
    When he came in, she stood on a step stool polishing the kitchen cabinets.
    “Morning.” She sent him a casual smile over her shoulder. “Been up awhile?”
    “Yeah. I wanted to get some work in.” Particularly since the damn dream had wakened him just before dawn. “I need to go into Boston today.”
    “Oh?”
    “I’m meeting with my lawyer.”
    “Good. Have you eaten?”
    “Yes, Mom.”
    Unoffended, she kept polishing. “Will you have time to see your family?”
    “That’s the plan. Look, I don’t know when I’ll be back. I may end up staying overnight. I’ll probably stay over.”
    “No problem here. We can reschedule your massage.”
    “I’ll leave your money. The same as the last time?”
    “Yes.