“I didn’t expect you to reciprocate on the lasagna dinner, but I’m glad you did. I haven’t had meat loaf and scalloped potatoes in ages,” Rex told Marla on Saturday night. 

“These are courtesy of the deli. All I did was warm them. I wanted to do something to show my appreciation for all the trouble you went to the other night,” she replied. 

“I’m the one who owes you for sitting through what had to feel like an inquisition from my daughter.”

“It wasn’t bad, especially after the two of us had the chance to get to know each other better while we cleaned the kitchen. By the way, kudos on how tidy I found it. And organized. Although I wasn’t surprised, knowing you. I was surprised, though, that you allowed the two of us to enter your cooking space while it was still messy.”

“I sensed Cathie wanted more of your time. There’s a certain neediness about my daughter. Needing lots of attention. I take the blame for that. I wasn’t around much in the years when she was growing up.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over your daughter’s personality. She’s quite the package: professional woman, loving wife, good mother. And also a caring daughter. I think she knows you more than you realize, whether you like that or not.”

He took several sips of his beer before replying. Once again, she’d probably said too much, shown him she also knew him more than he realized. He didn’t like people looking so deep into his psyche. She never seemed to learn.

“It pleases me that she cares so much for me. But I still have trouble dealing with the guilt I carry for being a frequently absent parent when she was growing up. Even when I was home, I’d often be more focused on a case than her or her mother. ” 

“You shouldn’t feel like that. And I tell you that knowing full well you don’t believe me.”

He snorted. “Thanks for trying.” He finished off his beer. “Heard any more from that manager of yours?”

“Just a short text when she got back on the coast telling me she would start the agent hunt the next day.” 

Before she could say more, there was a loud pounding on Kitty’s door. 

“Marla, I need your help,” Cathie said as she rushed into the room. “Oh, Dad, you’re here, too. Good. You should hear this at the same time.”

Her ponytail was askew, and her denim jacket sported what appeared to be grease marks in several places on the front. She leaned over, hands on thighs, to catch her breath. 

Rex immediately rose from the table and approached his daughter. “What’s up, kid? Family okay?”

She put up a hand. Took a few more long breaths. “They’re fine. Sorry to scare you. It’s just that … there was an incident on our bike ride today.” She faced Marla. “I told you I hoped you wouldn’t have to investigate another murder, but I’ve changed my mind. Our cycling club president’s bike went out of control as we were descending Apple Hill Road. He’s dead, guys. I, uh, think it was murder.”