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said.
    “And what are they?”
    “Crème fraîche and grated Parmesan cheese—Parmigiano-Reggiano, the real thing.”
    “I thought Parmesan cheese came from Wisconsin.”
    “Wash your mouth out with soap, then taste this.” She held up a pinch of the grated cheese for him to taste.
    “Mmmm, tangy!”
    “Exactly. Now will you set the iron skillet on the dining table, on the trivet, please, not on the nice wood.”
    He did as he was told, then came back. “Anything else?”
    “There’s a corkscrew over there,” she said, pointing to a drawer. “You can open the red wine.” She got a potholder and carried the copper risotto pot to the table and set it down. “I think we’re ready,” she said.
    He held her chair for her. “I’m certainly ready; I never got around to eating lunch today.” He sat down, poured a little wine and tasted it. “I think we’ll drink it,” he said, pouring them both a glass.
    “Okay,” she said. “Your turn. Full bio, please.”
    “Okay. Born Delano, Georgia, fifty years ago, to a small-town general practitioner and his nurse. Educated local schools, then at the University of Georgia, Emory Medical School in Atlanta. Interned at Georgia Baptist Hospital, then did a residency in surgery at Emory Hospital. Practiced general surgery for fifteen years, then did a two-week stretch in the trauma center at Piedmont Hospital, subbing for a friend. Loved the ER, got a job there, and I’ve been doing emergency medicine ever since.”
    “Why do you like it?”
    “Variety, intensity, a constant challenge to diagnose and treat quickly, and you don’t have time to form a bond with your patients, so when they die it isn’t the kind of personal loss it is if you’ve been treating them for weeks or months.”
    “My, but you’re a sensitive soul.”
    “Watching people die while trying to prevent them from doing so is not fun, but it’s less painful if you’re not acquainted with them.”
    “Okay, I buy that. Who’s your least favorite patient to treat?”
    “A rape victim,” he replied without hesitation. “That’s why I was so glad you weren’t raped.”
    “On behalf of rape victims, I thank you.”
    “You were raped before?”
    “No, but someone has tried twice. Daisy dealt with the would-be rapist the first time, and I got lucky the second, when that young couple arrived in time to scare the guy off.”
    “Ex-cop that you are, are you going to try to catch the guy?”
    “So far, I’m just keeping in touch with the investigation through old acquaintances,” she said. “I wouldn’t mind the opportunity to stick a nine-millimeter in his ear, though.”
    “Would you pull the trigger?”
    “Probably not, but my father would.”
    “Ham? That’s his name?”
    “Yep.”
    “He looked like retired military.”
    “An old first sergeant, tough as boot leather, but squishy soft if you work your way inside far enough.”
    “His wife seemed nice.”
    “Yes. Ginny taught me to fly.”
    “That’s something I’ve thought I’d like to try,” he said.
    “I’ll introduce you. She’s a first-rate instructor and has her own flying school at the Vero Beach airport.”
    “I’ll look forward to it.”
    “How’d you come to be working in Orchid Beach?” she asked.
    “Heard about it on the grapevine, liked the idea of a warm winter. With my skills, it’s easy to work wherever you want to. There’s lots of demand for good ER physicians. I’ve been here eight months, and I like it.”
    “Where do you live?”
    “I’m renting a house in Vero at the Orchid Island development. I have an option to buy.”
    “Good golf there.”
    “Yes, you play?”
    “Yes, but I haven’t had time for a few years. I’d like to play while I’m here.”
    “I’ll arrange it. How long will you be in town?”
    “My boss told me not to come back for a month.”
    They finished dinner, and Holly served them ice cream, then they took coffee in the living room. The door to the beach was