The Lost Women of Lost Lake by Ellen Hart

defense attorney in St. Paul. As a child, she remembered listening to him discuss his cases at the dinner table—never in any great detail and yet enough so that she would become intrigued. Later in the evenings, after she was in bed and was supposed to be asleep, she would tiptoe to the top of the stairs, where she would listen to her father and mother down in the living room discussing the case in greater detail.
    As Jane grew older, she followed her father’s trials in the newspaper, always fascinated, trying to work out in her own mind what had really happened. Her first love had been food, which was why, ever since she’d spent a summer working at her uncle’s restaurant as a teenager, she’d wanted her own. She’d made good on that wish with a career as a restaurateur, but in her late thirties, she’d come to see that she’d left a significant part of her interests unaddressed.
    For many years, Jane had engaged in what others might term risky behavior. She’d helped friends, friends of friends, and even a few strangers with various criminal problems. She already knew she enjoyed the intellectual part of crime solving—connecting the dots, thinking about motives and means—and yet now, as an adult, she also discovered that she liked getting her hands dirty, liked the chase. She might not admit it out loud, but that frisson of danger made her feel more alive. There wasn’t much physical danger involved in owning a couple of restaurants. Financial danger, yes. Danger to her health because of the stress, for sure, but not the kind of danger for which she had a growing itch. And then she met A. J. Nolan.
    Jane remembered a time, not all that long ago, when she’d been absurdly pleased by his comment that she was a natural at criminal investigation. Shortly after he made the statement, he began to push. He wanted her to come work with him. He promised that he’d teach her everything he knew. He told her it was what she wanted, too, and, although the comment touched a chord inside her, she’d never liked it when people tried to tell her what she wanted.
    Then came the ultimate incentive. Last spring, Nolan had offered to make her his partner. He’d even made up some business cards with both their names on it, cards she still carried in her wallet. She could work under his license until she’d put in enough hours to earn her own. Nolan was getting older and couldn’t continue doing some of the more labor-intensive aspects of the job forever. If she signed on, he sweetened the deal even more by saying that he would leave the business, which included his name, his reputation, his files, his connections, and his client list, to her. Nolan & Lawless Investigations. It was a heady idea.
    Jane almost jumped. But just as she was about to say yes, the economy tanked. She saw immediately that she needed to turn her entire focus on her restaurants. Nolan didn’t understand. When he took a bullet a couple months ago while saving her life, the discussion was tabled. True to form, he’d brought it up again last week when he’d come to Blackberry Lake to stay with her at her family’s lodge. Her inclination this time was to give him a firm no, and yet when the moment came, she hedged again.
    This time, however, she did offer a promise. She would decide by the end of August. She set the deadline more for herself than for him. Her ambivalence was driving her nuts. In many ways, spending the week in Lost Lake was a godsend. Nolan could recover in the tranquil setting of her family’s cabin and she could continue to think, while at the same time feeling no immediate pressure from him. And yet the pressure was on.
    Last night, she and Cordelia had stayed at the cottage until just after eleven. Tessa finally consented to take a pain pill after Jonah offered to sleep in the loft above the living room instead of his usual spot in a room off the garage. He was