6
She wouldn’t say more in the diner, so we went to a nearby park and sat in the car with the windows down. I wasn’t taking Renee to my office. That would mean admitting she was my client, which I wasn’t ready to do yet. Plus, sitting in the car, I didn’t have to look at her.
“Does Ben’s father know?” I asked, watching a stubby-legged dachshund slip from its owner’s grasp to chase a squirrel. The squirrel gave a sideways leap onto an oak, then scrambled up. The dachshund barked once, then trotted back to its owner, grinning, tail whipping with self-importance.
“You mean, does he know that Ben thinks he’s dead? Yes. It was JD’s idea.”
“JD?”
“His name is JD Devereaux. Ben and I go by my maiden name, Singer.”
“Why?”
“Because Renee Devereaux sounds like a porn star’s name.”
I looked at
