Jayne Ann Krentz (20 page)

“Winston and I are pals,” Rafe said. “I don't think he'd make the same mistake with me.”

“He seems to like you very much.”

“Guess that'll have to do. For now.”

She tilted her head slightly. “I guess so. For now.”

He lay there unmoving, intensely conscious of the warmth of her hip where it rested against his thigh and the elegantly sensual curve of her shoulder. He could not shake the feeling of destiny that rippled through him. It was the same sensation that had come over him the day he opened the letter from Isabel's lawyer.

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

Don't let the feeling run away with you, he warned himself. Stay on top of it. Stay in control. Don't think about the future. Stay with the present.

But the future was so important now.

He inhaled slowly, centering himself. “I was thinking about the subject that we were discussing before we were so delightfully interrupted.”

“I believe you were holding forth on a theory that whoever tried to murder Winston might have been attempting to express his displeasure over our relationship.”

“You don't have to say it in that tone of voice. It's a good theory. But I never got a chance to explain the finer points.”

“I'm listening.”

“I didn't mean to imply that whoever tried to off Winston did so because he was pissed about the fact that you and I are sleeping together. What I was going to suggest was that he or she might be worried about something else altogether.”

“Such as?”

“Think about it,” he said patiently. “Ever since we arrived here in Eclipse Bay, there has been talk. It hasn't all been focused on the speculation that one of us is trying to screw the other out of Dreamscape.”

She winced. “What a delicate way to put it.”

He ignored her. “There's also been gossip about what happened eight years ago.”

“Oh, for pity's sake. You actually think that some people still care whether or not we had sex on the beach that night?”

“No. The conversations have circled around the subject of Kaitlin Sadler's death. You heard the Willis brothers. Others are talking, too. I overheard a couple of folks in the vegetable aisle at Fulton's chatting about how no one was really sure what happened that night. One of them suggested that Yates might have closed the case a little too quickly, for lack of suspects.”

Hannah's lips parted as understanding struck. “Kaitlin died a long time ago. Who would care if there was fresh talk going around about an old tragedy?”

“Someone who thinks that I really did murder Kaitlin might care. A lot.”

She froze. “Dell Sadler. But why would he try to harm my dog?”

“As far as Dell is concerned, you covered for me that night. You're involved.”

“You think he would have tried to harm Winston as a way of taking some revenge?”

“I think,” Rafe said deliberately, “that we'd better talk to him.”

The faded sign over the gate read
SADLER'S AUTO RE-BUILD
. Beneath it, in slightly smaller letters, were the words 24-
HOUR TOWING
. And below that was the phrase
SPECIALIZING IN INSURANCE WORK
. But the chain-link fence that enclosed the metal carcasses of ruined automobiles and the big dog with the massive head sprawled in front of the trailer sent a slightly different message. This was a junkyard.

Hannah took one look at the huge dog and decided to leave Winston in the car. “Whatever you do, don't let him out,” she said as Rafe opened the door on his side.

Rafe eyed the animal lying in the shade of the tattered awning that shielded the trailer door. “Have a little faith. We're talking brains versus brawn here. My money's on Winston.”

“We are not going to put that to the test.” Hannah looked at Winston through the two-inch crack she had left between the window and the top of the car door frame. “Don't do anything to provoke that beast, understand?”

Winston whined softly. His rear legs were planted on the seat she had just vacated, his front paws braced against the door. Ears alert, nose quivering, he stared through the window, his whole attention concentrated on the other dog.

Hannah shuddered at the thought of what might happen if Winston got out of the car. She checked the passenger door to make certain that it was firmly shut and then sent Rafe a warning glance over the low roof of the Porsche.

“Be sure you close that door firmly.”

“You worry too much,” Rafe said. He gave the Porsche door a rather casual push. “Winston's smart. He can handle that guy.”

She watched the big dog heave his bulk to his feet. “I'm sure I'm a lot smarter than that monster, too. But I wouldn't want to get into a fight with him.”

“Okay, okay. Winston stays in the car.” Rafe walked to the gate and leaned on a grimy button.

A few seconds later the door of the trailer opened. Dell Sadler appeared, silhouetted in the gloom. He gazed at Rafe and Hannah, his face shadowed by the brim of a greasy billed cap. After a while he apparently came to a decision. He started toward the gate. The dog paced stiffly after him, moving with the painfully awkward stride of an animal who was either very old or had been badly injured.

Dell crossed the yard, weaving his way between piles of tires, crumpled fenders, and assorted mutilated auto parts. When he reached the gate he made no move to open it. He stared balefully at Rafe through the chain links. The dog came to a halt beside him and stared too. Dell did not look down, but he put his hand on the creature's head in a gesture that was at once calming and absently affectionate. The bond between man and beast was evident.

“It's okay, Happy,” Dell said.

Quite suddenly Hannah found it difficult to believe that this man had tried to murder Winston last night.

“What d'ya want?” Dell asked gruffly.

“We need to talk to you, Dell.”

“What about?”

“Kaitlin.”

Dell's shoulders stiffened visibly. He hesitated for a long time. Then he reached for the latch. “You better come inside.”

The gate swung open. Dell led the way through the piles of dead automobiles.

The tidy interior of the trailer was a surprise. Hannah glanced surreptitiously around as she sat down on the worn vinyl-covered couch. There was a good reading lamp on the built-in end table. A pile of magazines bearing recent dates was stacked beside it. A new mystery novel by a familiar author lay on the miniature coffee table.

Dell hovered in the little kitchen. He appeared nervous, uneasy, as if he was not sure how to handle guests. “You want something to drink? I got some soda and beer.”

“Soda's fine,” Rafe said. “Whatever's handy.”

“Soda sounds great,” Hannah said gently.

“Sure.” Dell opened the refrigerator and hauled out two cans. He carried them into the living room portion of the trailer and set them on the table in front of Rafe and Hannah.

Hannah glanced through the screen door of the trailer, studying the dog sprawled outside. “What happened to your dog?”

“Happy got run over by some drunk bastard on the highway while we was out on a tow job one night. Messed up his rear legs pretty bad. Vet told me I oughta put him down, but I just couldn't do that. Cost me a fortune, but what was I gonna do? Me and Happy are partners, y'know?”

“I know,” Hannah said. Definitely not a dog killer, she thought. But if Dell Sadler wasn't the one who had put Winston out on the rocks in Dead Hand Cove, who had? “Someone tried to kill my dog last night.”

“Why would anyone wanna kill a dog?”

“We think it may have been meant as a warning of some kind,” she said quietly.

“Shit. That's why you're here, isn't it? You think maybe I tried to hurt your dog on accounta what happened to Kaitlin?”

“It crossed our minds,” Rafe admitted. “You're the only one I can think of who might have wanted to avenge Kaitlin's death.”

“Shit,” Dell said again. He sank down onto a threadbare chair and stared at the logo on the can in his hand. “I wouldn't hurt no dog. That little pooch of yours didn't have anything to do with what happened to my sister.”

“You're right.” Rafe leaned forward, legs spread. He held the can of soda loosely in his fingers between his knees. Serious but nonthreatening. Man to man. “I'll come to the point, Dell. I know you think I killed Kaitlin. I didn't. That's the God's honest truth. You'll believe what you want to believe, but in the meantime, I really need to know why you're so sure I'm guilty.”

Dell turned the can between his hands. Eventually he looked up. “I always figured it was you because you were the last one with her that night. Everyone said you were pissed that she was playing around.”

Hannah stirred. “But why were you always so sure that it was murder in the first place? Why couldn't it have been an accident?”

“Because they found her in Hidden Cove. Said she must have been up on the path in the middle of the night. Doesn't make sense. Why would she go out there?”

“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.”