“It’s nice to meet you. And you, too.” Luke bent down to scratch Thomas, who sniffed busily at his pant legs.

“Are you with the police?”

“No, not a cop. I’m a baker.”

“A professional baker?”

“Yeah. I’ve got a place a few blocks from here. Baker’s Dozen.”

“Mini cupcakes!”

Amused by the outburst, Luke straightened. “We’ve got them.”

“No, I mean, I’ve had them. The red velvet brought tears to my eyes. I went back for more just the other day, and the sourdough bread. And a caramel latte. It’s such a happy place. How long have you been there?”

“About three years now.”

“I always wondered what it was like to work in a bakery. Do you ever stop noticing how wonderful it smells or how pretty all the tarts look, that kind of thing? Did you always want to be a baker? And I’m sorry.”

She shoved at her hair. “I ask too many questions, and I haven’t even asked you to sit down. Do you want a drink? I have wine, or the sun tea I finally got around to making,” she added with a quick smile for Ash.

“We’re fine. We just had a beer, and something occurred to me.”

Luke leaned over again to pet the delighted cat, and his sunglasses fell to the floor. “That damn screw,” he said as he picked them up, then retrieved the tiny screw that had popped out.

“Oh, I can fix that. Just a minute—go on and sit down.”

“She can fix that?” Luke repeated when she walked out.

“Don’t ask me.”

She came back with what looked to Ash like the nuclear version of a Swiss Army knife. “Let’s sit down,” she said, and took the glasses and tiny screw from Luke.

“I want to ask if there’s anything new.” She sat, and the minute Ash took a chair, Thomas jumped in his lap as if they were old friends.

“They’re not telling me much. They let me get his things from the apartment.”

“That was hard. You had someone with you,” she said with a glance at Luke before she opened the tool, selected a tiny screwdriver. “It’s better to have someone with you when it’s hard.”

“They didn’t find any signs of forced entry, so they’re assuming they let whoever killed them in. Probably knew them. If they know more, they aren’t saying.”

“They’ll find who did it. I can’t be the only one who saw something.”

Maybe not, he thought, but she might be the only one willing to get involved.

“There.” She tested the glasses, winging the earpiece back and forth. “Good as new.”

“Thanks. I’ve never seen one just like that.” Luke nodded toward her Leatherman.

“Three hundred essential tools all in one handy package. I don’t know how anyone lives without one.” She folded it, set it aside.

“I’m a big fan of duct tape.”

She smiled at Luke. “Its infinite uses have yet to be fully discovered.” She looked back at Ash. “It’s good to have a friend.”

“Yeah. And speaking of that. The last time I was here, you mentioned Julie’d had a break-in. Anything new there?”

“No. The police think she just lost or misplaced what’s missing. That’s what she thinks they think anyway. She changed the locks, put in a second dead bolt, so she’s okay about it, though she may never get over losing the Manolos.”

“You have her place listed as your address.”

“You need one for all sorts of things, and since I stay there now and again between jobs, even store some seasonal things there, it made the most sense.”

“It’s your address of record,” Ash said, “and someone broke in the day after my brother was murdered. The day you called the police, gave a statement, talked to me.”

“I know. It seems like everything rolled into one big ball of . . .”

He saw the thought strike home, watched her face fall into thoughtful lines, not fearful ones.

“You think it’s connected. I didn’t think of that. I should’ve thought of that. If someone wanted to find me who didn’t know me, that would be the first logical point. I didn’t see anyone, couldn’t identify anyone, but they wouldn’t know that. Or not that quickly. They could’ve broken into Julie’s looking for me.”

“You’re pretty calm about the idea,” Luke observed.

“Because she wasn’t home, wasn’t hurt. And because they probably know by now I’m not a threat. I wish I was. I wish I could give the police a description. Since I can’t, there’s no reason to bother with me. There’s certainly no reason to break into Julie’s again, or worry her.”

“Maybe whoever killed Oliver and his girlfriend isn’t as logical as you,” Ash suggested. “You need to be careful.”

“Who’d look for me here? And in another few days I’ll be somewhere else. Nobody knows where I am.”

“I know,” he pointed out. “Luke knows, Julie, your clients, probably their friends, their family. The doorman,” he continued. “You go out, walk around, shop, eat. They’d know you were in this area—had to be—that night. Why wouldn’t they look here?”

“It’s a big here.” Irritation trickled in, as it always did when someone assumed she couldn’t take care of herself. “And anyone who lives and works in New York knows how to be reasonably careful.”

“You answered the door for us without knowing who it was.”

“I don’t usually, but I was expecting . . . that,” she finished as the bell rang. “Excuse me.”

“Hit a nerve,” Luke said quietly.

“I’ll hit as many as it takes to convince her to take precautions.”

“You could use the ‘I’m worried about you’ card instead of the ‘Don’t be an idiot’ card.”

“I never said she was an idiot.”

“Implied. If you really think—”

Everything in Luke’s brain simply dropped away. A dozen years had changed her, of course they had, but every change hit the bell.

“Julie, you know Ashton.”

“Of course. I’m so sorry, Ash.”

“I got your note. I appreciate it.”