“To meet a man?” Hannah suggested gently.
Dell gave her a derisive look. “She had her own house. And a car, too. She didn’t have to go to someplace like Hidden Cove to fool around.”
“Unless she didn’t want to be seen with whoever she met there,” Rafe said bluntly. “Which lets me out. She sure didn’t mind having people see her with me.”
Hannah pursed her lips, thinking. “Maybe she didn’t go out there to meet anyone. Maybe she just went there to meditate.”
“Meditate?” Dell looked at her as if she had lost her mind. “Kaitlin wasn’t into that kinda weird stuff.”
“Everyone needs to get away to a quiet place to think about their future once in a while,” Hannah persisted. But she noticed that Rafe was now looking at her strangely too. Obviously neither of these two considered Kaitlin to be the thoughtful, introspective type.
“Not Kaitlin.” Dell took a swallow from his can of soda and wiped his mouth with the back of a stained sleeve. “She had her future down cold. Didn’t need to do any meditating on it. Kaitlin always had big plans, y’know?”
A tingle of expectation shot through Hannah. She and Rafe exchanged nods. She turned back to Dell.
“Why do you say that Kaitlin didn’t have to do any meditating on her future?” she asked carefully.
“She already knew what she was going to do. Called me that night.” Dell studied his soda can intently. “Said she’d had enough of this town. She was gonna leave first thing in the morning and never come back.”
“Are you telling us that you spoke with Kaitlin just before she died?” Rafe asked.
“Yeah. Like I said, she called me. Woke me up. She was still really mad at you, y’know? Said she’d had it with everyone here. All losers, she said.”
“How did she plan to finance this final exit?” Rafe asked.
Dell sucked in a deep breath and took another swallow of soda. He lowered the can slowly and peered into the middle distance. Looking into the past. “She told me that she was going to use her nuclear option.”
Rafe did not move. “What the hell was that?”
Dell hesitated. “I’m not sure, to tell you the truth. She never was real clear about it. I got the feeling that she had some cash stashed away. Figured one of her boyfriends had given it to her. Or maybe someone gave her a piece of fancy jewelry she thought she could sell.”
Hannah’s mouth went dry. She said nothing.
“Let me get this straight.” Rafe sounded as if he was choosing his words with exquisite care. “You’re saying that she left me on the beach that night, went home, and called you to tell you that she was going to go nuclear and then leave town?”
“The next thing I know,” Dell said dully, “Yates is pounding on my door. Come to tell me Kaitlin’s dead.”
“And you told him you were pretty sure I’d killed her—is that it?”
“Well, yeah,” Dell muttered.
“Follow your own logic for a while here,” Rafe said. “How did I know she was headed for Hidden Cove?”
“I figure you went to her place. You killed her there and then dumped her body in Hidden Cove.”
Rafe groaned. “Well, it’s a theory. I’ll give you that much.”
“Kaitlin wasn’t like me,” Dell pleaded to Hannah. “She wanted to get out of this town. Be someone. She had dreams, y’see? Lots of ’em. Big ones.”
“I understand,” Hannah said.
“But none of ’em ever worked out for her.” Dell gave a sad sigh. “Seemed like everything always went wrong. I was her brother, y’know, but there was never anything I could do to fix things for her.”
Rafe frowned. “It wasn’t your fault you couldn’t straighten out her problems, Dell.”
“Maybe. But it just seemed like I shoulda been able to do something, y’know?”
“Yeah,” Rafe said. “I know. Sometimes you’ve just got to live with the fact that there wasn’t anything you could do.”
Dell nodded bleakly. “Thought I’d put it all behind me. Told myself it was finished. Then you two showed up in town together. Made it clear you planned to hang around awhile. People started talking about what happened that night again.”
Rafe looked at him. “When Yates came around asking questions, did he say whether or not he had searched Kaitlin’s house?”
“He went through the place real thoroughly. Her car, too. I was with him when he did it,” Dell said morosely. “Said he was looking for a suicide note, but he tore that place apart, y’know? Why would he do that if he was just lookin’ for a note? I mean, if she’d left one, she would have put it in plain sight, don’t you think? Why leave a note if you don’t want it to be found?”
“You’re right,” Rafe said. “She’d have left it in plain sight.”
Hannah gripped the edge of her chair very tightly. “Do you recall whether or not Yates pulled out her washer and dryer to check behind them?”
Dell nodded. “And the refrigerator, too. Like I said, he really went through her stuff. But I know she didn’t jump off that cliff. There was no note. I told him she wasn’t the type to commit suicide. Asked him what he was really looking for.”
Hannah watched him. “What did he say?”
“Said he’d know it if he found it. But he didn’t find anything.”
They all sat in silence for a time. After a while Dell sighed heavily and drained the last of his soda. “I didn’t try to kill your dog, Hannah.”
“I believe you,” Hannah said. “You wouldn’t hurt an innocent animal.”
Dell nodded and said nothing.
“There’s something else,” Hannah said. “Rafe didn’t kill Kaitlin. I really was with him that night on the beach near the Arch. There was no way he could have followed your sister home, let alone kill her and take her body to Hidden Cove. You have my word on it.”
Dell did not move for a long time. Then he looked at Rafe. “If it wasn’t you, who was it?”
“Good question,” Rafe said.
Back in the car, Winston draped the front half of his body over the back of the seat and nuzzled Hannah’s shoulder. She scratched his ears and glanced at Rafe.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” she asked.
“About that lingerie and the videos the Willis brothers found hidden behind Kaitlin’s dryer?” Rafe steered the Porsche in a tight circle and drove down the dusty, rutted road that led away from Sadler’s Auto Rebuild. “Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking. Maybe those videos were her nuclear option.”
“Blackmail material?”
“Maybe,” Rafe said again. “And maybe Chief Yates suspected something. Maybe that’s why he tore her place apart that night.”
“But he didn’t find anything.”
Rafe turned right onto the main road. “Which means that whoever killed Kaitlin managed to recover the videos and the lingerie.”
Hannah shivered. “Do you realize what we’re saying here?”
“We’re saying that Dell Sadler was right all along. Kaitlin didn’t die in an accidental fall. And she sure as hell didn’t jump off the Hidden Cove path. She was murdered by someone she was attempting to blackmail.”
Hannah took a breath. “We’re making some huge assumptions here.”
He shrugged. “After what almost happened to you and Winston last night, I’m willing to take some very big leaps.”
“If we’re right, someone murdered Kaitlin because she had possession of compromising videos.”
“The question is, who in this burg would have committed murder just to keep her quiet about an affair involving some frilly lingerie? Cross-dressing isn’t that big a deal.”
“Come on, Rafe. You want possibilities? How about some desperate assistant professor at Chamberlain who might have been afraid that his chance at tenure was about to go up in smoke because of those videos? Or try a minister at a local church who would lose his congregation if his taste for ladies’ underwear became public knowledge. And then there’s the crowd
up at the institute. Arizona Snow has always been convinced that there are some very unsavory characters up there. Maybe she’s right.”
Rafe sank deeper into the leather seat. “You’re right. A long list of possibilities.”
“Then there’s the Willis brothers’ theory that the killer was someone from out of town. Which gives us an even longer list.”
Rafe’s dark brows met above his shades in a thoughtful frown. “Don’t think so. Her decision to use her nuclear option, as Dell put it, was apparently an impulse. Her victim had to be someone she could reach on the spur of the moment that night. Not someone who had to be summoned from Portland or Seattle or Salem.”
“Makes sense.” Hannah pondered for a minute. “Okay, let’s try this from another angle. Surely not everyone in Eclipse Bay is into ladies’ lingerie. And not everyone here who is into women’s underwear would commit murder to keep a blackmailer quiet.”
“Your point?”
“All we need to do is find out who fits the profile, as the cops say. Someone who is into female undies and who would also be willing to kill to get his hands on the compromising videos.”
“To do that we need to talk to someone who knows this town better than you and I do.”
“Got a name in mind?”
Rafe’s mouth curved in a humorless smile. “As a matter of fact, I do. Our dinner guest tonight.”
chapter 18
Rafe rinsed the red radicchio leaves under running water and dropped them gently into the colander on top of the arugula and cilantro. Mentally he ran through his plans for the meal. Three carefully chosen ripe avocados sat in a bowl at the far end of the counter. He would cut them in half just before serving, spoon balsamic vinegar into the hollows and sprinkle them with some coarsely grated sea salt. The pasta would be a straightforward dish using olives and tomatoes and goat cheese.
When he finished rinsing the lettuce for the salad, he went to work on the hummus. He tossed a sizable quantity of cooked garbanzo beans into the food processor and added tahini, lemon juice, and a bit of garlic.
He snapped on the lid, flipped the switch, and thought about what Dell Sadler had said while he listened to the pleasant sound of garbanzos being pulverized. Kaitlin had intended to use her nuclear option.
A killer who had thought himself in the clear for the past eight years might have reason to worry now that the old gossip was being dredged up and rehashed all over town. What if someone remembered something important after all this time? What if someone put two and two together in a way that hadn’t been done eight years ago? What if someone had seen something that night and belatedly realized that it was a clue?
A murderer who had struck once to keep his secret might be willing to strike again.
A cold feeling closed in on Rafe. The dread that he had been holding at bay all day broke through the dam, and he was suddenly dealing with a nightmarish river. The question he had not raised with Hannah, the one that had been plaguing him for hours, could no longer be avoided.
That question was horrifyingly simple: What if Winston had not been the main target last night? Maybe the attack on the dog had never been intended as a warning. Maybe the Schnauzer had been set out on the finger as bait to lure Hannah into danger. If she had arrived home as little as half an hour later, rescuing Winston would have put her in great jeopardy. The force of the incoming tide could have swept her feet out from under her, perhaps dashed her against the rocks.
He thought about how she had taken Winston into the caves because she had sensed someone watching her from the cliff path. What if the killer had been hanging around, watching to see if his plans were going to work out as he’d intended? What if he had waited on the cliff path with the intention of making certain that Hannah and Winston never made it back from the cove alive?
What if?
Rafe switched off the food processor and removed the lid. He could not afford to take any more chances, he thought as he scooped out the fragrant hummus. Tonight he would have to take drastic steps. He would never be able to sleep if he didn’t.
At six-thirty that evening, he picked up the tray of hors d’oeuvres. Winston, who had been supervising the final kitchen preparations with an expression of mingled wistfulness and lust, got to his feet.
“Here you go, mutt.” Rafe tossed him a slice of pita bread slathered in hummus. “Chef’s privilege.”
Winston gnawed happily on the tidbit as he hurried after Rafe. Together they crossed the hall toward the sunroom, where Hannah and Mitchell were sharing a glass of wine and the view of evening fog moving in over the bay.
Rafe glanced at the bowl of hummus and pita toast points arranged on the tray, double-checking the visual appeal of the hors d’oeuvres. The trickle of uneasiness he felt was disconcerting. He was usually confident of his cooking. He knew he had a keen sense of how to blend flavors into intriguing combinations and a flair for presentation. He had planned this meal with great care. He knew everything was perfect. It was the first time he had ever cooked for Mitchell, and he did not want any screwups.
Mitchell’s low growl stopped him just as he was about to enter the room.
“. . . Don’t you worry. Rafe will do right by you,” Mitchell said. “I’ll see to it.”
Rafe froze in the doorway. Winston stopped, too, cocking his head with an inquiring look.
“What the heck does that mean?” Hannah sounded baffled and more than a little wary. “Are you going to force him to give up his claim on this house?”
“Never could force that bullheaded boy to do anything he didn’t want to do, and I’m pretty sure he won’t give up Dreamscape. Seems to have his heart set on turning it into an inn and a restaurant.”
“He certainly does.” Hannah’s voice was clipped.
“When a Madison’s got his heart set on something,” Mitchell warned with gruff gentleness, “it isn’t easy persuading him to change course.”
“That’s what I’ve heard.”
“He’s got the cash to make it happen. Made himself a bundle in the market, you know.” Mitchell sighed. “Always did have a head for business.”
“Apparently.” Hannah’s tone was becoming grim.
“Barring a tsunami or an earthquake or a volcanic eruption that wipes out this section of the coast, I reckon Rafe will see his plans through.” Mitchell paused. “Thing is, he’s a lot like me when it comes to going after what he wants.”
Hannah was quiet for a time. Rafe realized that his hands were clenched around the handles of the hors d’oeuvres tray. He could not seem to move through the doorway. He was waiting for something, but he was not sure what that something was.
“So what did you mean when you said you’d see to it that he would do right by me?” Hannah asked eventually.
“Lord above, woman, don’t play dumb with me. There isn’t any such thing as a dumb Harte, and we both know it. I’m talking about marriage, naturally.”
“Marriage!” Hannah’s voice rose to a shrill squeak. “Rafe and me?”
“Well, sure. What did you think I was talking about?”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“Hear me out, now, Hannah. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about this, and I’m pretty sure I can swing it.”
“Pretty sure? Pretty sure?”
“Okay, damn sure. Pardon my language. Not quite the same thing as making him give up Dreamscape, of course. That would be a real case of hitting my head against a brick wall. But this fear of marriage that he’s got, that’s just a case of bad nerves.”
“Nerves,” Hannah repeated in a dazed voice.
“Right. He’s convinced that Madison men have a bad time with marriage.”
“Well, you do have a history of disastrous marriages in your clan,” Hannah muttered. “And Rafe has already screwed up once.”
“Okay, so he made one little mistake.”
“Little?”
“These things happen.”
“You ought to know,” Hannah said mu
ch too sweetly. “How many times have you been married, Mr. Madison?”
“Don’t go tagging Rafe with my lousy track record. I admit that for a long time after Claudia Banner took off with the assets of Harte-Madison, I didn’t think real clearly when it came to women. Had a few problems.”
“That’s putting it mildly, from what I understand.”
Mitchell made a rude sound. “Can’t blame you for your opinion. You’ve been brought up to think the worst of me. I know that Sullivan has fed you a lot of wild stories over the years. What I’m trying to tell you is that Rafe and I are alike in a lot of ways but not in every way.”
“If you say so.”
“If that isn’t just like a Harte,” Mitchell said heatedly. “Throw a man’s mistakes back in his face and don’t bother to give him a chance to put things right. You got a lot in common with your granddad, young woman.”
“I think we’re straying from the point here.”
“Look, that divorce wasn’t Rafe’s fault. Don’t hold it against him. He learned from it.”
“Uh-huh. From what I can gather, he learned that he doesn’t want to get married again,” Hannah said dryly.
“Exactly what I’m trying to tell you,” Mitchell said quickly. “Like I said, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and I’ve figured out Rafe’s problem. He’s got some sort of phobia about marriage, see.”
“You’ve concluded that he’s afraid of marriage?” Hannah’s voice was oddly weak.
“Right.” Mitchell sounded pleased that she had grasped the point so readily. “The way some folks are scared of spiders or snakes.”
“A charming analogy.”
“I can sort of see how it happened,” Mitchell continued earnestly. “I got to admit I didn’t set a good example for Sinclair, and things trickled on down to Rafe. But I figure I can get him past it. Figure I owe him that much, since it was me who was responsible for this phobia thing in the first place.”
“How do you intend to do that?” Hannah’s voice was stronger now, infused with morbid curiosity. “Get out your shotgun and march him to the altar?”