I looked at Walker. Nope, business as usual. He was trying to maintain his game face while Pilar was feeling him up under the table.And Pilar was her ...sual calm, self-assured ... um, self.Vanessa.She looked away from me. But I know her so well. So intimately. She was suppressing something. Was pleased about something.I said, “Okay, toots. Spit it out.”Walker and Pilar turned to her too.“Winter, I have a thought. An idea about Mr. Television.”Hey, I’m the fucking detective at this fucking table!. Landfall maybe just 30 miles south. Really close.Down at the water, he finds her sitting on the sand. He brings her a towel as she stands up. Her butt covered in sand and little else. He checks around quickly and playfully sweeps the sand off her bottom with his bare hand.“Silly girl, no towel. And by the way, a reminder that that bikini stays here at my house when you leave. I don’t want your mother thinking I’ve corrupted you.”“Too late, you’ve corrupted me, you dirty old man!” She giggles. More

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