“TURN RIGHT UP THERE at the next street.”
Hank nodded. As he and Maddie, in his Lincoln Navigator, searched the night-darkened streets of Hanscomb Harbor, Hank had the distinct impression that Maddie knew where Beamer might have gone. She hadn’t said as much, but she was giving him pretty specific directions to turn here and go straight there. To him, this seemed more like a definite route than it did a random pattern of guessing.
“How are you doing out here on your own? I mean in Hanscomb Harbor,” Maddie asked out of the blue. “I know you’re used to having people do for you.”
Hank maneuvered his vehicle around the corner and onto the street she’d indicated. “Well, I’ve only been here a couple days. Had some trouble finding a room. All the tourists. But if you mean can the poor little rich boy do things for himself, yes I can. I can take care of myself.”
“Of course you can.”
“You don’t believe me.”
She shook her head. “No. Not until you believe me about not being a gold-digging bimbo.”
Ah. So that’s where this line of questioning was coming from. “A gold-digging bimbo. Man, that sounds crappy when you say it out loud.”
“I know.” She looked defensive and triumphant at the same moment.
“Okay, so I had that coming. But all right. Deal? I won’t think of you as a gold-digging bimb—”
“You won’t think I am? I’m not.”
“Okay, you’re not a gold-digging bimbo, and I can take care of myself. How’s that?”
“I don’t know. Do you really believe it?”
“About you? Yes I do. I do believe that you’re not.”
“What changed your mind?”
“Jesus, Maddie, am I going to need my attorney?”
She sighed, gesturing with her apology. “No. I’m sorry. I’m just glad you can see I’m not that way. At least, I hope you can. Because I’m not.”
“I conceded the point, Okay?”
“Good.”
After that, they drove along in silence. Hank couldn’t help but notice how empty the streets suddenly were. Not an hour ago they’d been mobbed with tourists. And the whole boardwalk area overlooking the beach had thrummed with the atmosphere of a carnival. But now? You could hear crickets. It was eerie. He glanced over at Maddie. “Where did everyone go?”
Sitting on the passenger’s side, she shrugged against the restraint of her seat belt. “Well, most businesses have closed for the evening. But there are a few indoor things to do. Mr. Bailey shows an early movie over at the community center. Some are at the Captain’s Tavern. But my guess is the families have probably taken their tired children back to the beach cottages or the Harbor Inn Motel, wherever they’re staying. Family time. Time for baths and bedtime stories.”
“I can vouch for the motel being full of kids. That’s where I finally found a room,” Hank commented automatically as his mind worked on the wistful way she’d spoken of children and families. He glanced over at her. She wasn’t looking his way. Instead, she stared solemnly out at the night. Hank was struck by how delicate, how fragile she looked. Was it her blond coloring? Her blue eyes? Her slenderness? Or a combination of them all? Whatever it was, she’d gotten to him. Hank realized he wanted nothing more than to reach over, take her hand, raise it to his lips, and kiss it reassuringly. But he couldn’t. They didn’t have that kind of relationship. Or much of any other kind, either. A sigh escaped him. That damned will.
He faced the road ahead now, but his troubled mind would not let him be. All he could think about was the fact that he had to stifle his urge to touch her. Hank’s grip on the steering wheel tightened as he thought how unfair it all was to him and Maddie. What his grandfather had done—bequeath to Maddie what was rightfully Hank’s and then essentially put her in charge of seeing that Hank carried out the provisions or risk losing everything for them both—had maybe been done in good faith and because of a kind heart, if not a slightly wacky one.
But well intentioned or not, James Senior had made a big mess of things, God love him. Hank knew that if he and Maddie had met under other circumstances, they might have had a chance together. A really good chance. Because there was no denying that he was attracted to her. As if he needed proof of that, he relived again their passionate kiss in Jim’s office—before the reading of the will that had put them in their present adversarial position. Damn.
Troubled by the direction of his thoughts, Hank chose to take up their conversation where it had left off. He spoke into the silence punctuated by the cold air blowing on them from the SUV’s air-conditioning vents. “So, how do you feel about having kids, Maddie?”
She chuckled as if caught off guard by his question. “Wow.” She adopted a thoughtful pose. “Okay. Well. How do I feel? I don’t know. I suppose people should have them if they want them. Why?”
Hank grinned at her. “Did I sound like I was taking a poll? I meant someday would you like to have kids?”
“Oh. Me. Well, sure. Someday. How about you?”
Hank divided his attention between her and the ribbon of road ahead. “Yeah. I would. With the right woman.”
“Ah. The right woman.” Her tone was teasing. “And what would she be like?”
“Don’t know. Someone who could stand to put up with me for more than five minutes would be nice, for starters.”
Maddie chuckled. “Are you all that hard to get along with?”
“You can answer that better than I can.”
“Really? Okay.” She thought about it longer than a mere moment. “I guess you’re all right.”
“Whoa. A ringing endorsement.”
Maddie’s grin widened. “You shouldn’t go fishing for compliments.”
“I’ll remember that.” It felt good, this banter between them. But it only confirmed for Hank that without the will and the angry scene that had followed its reading and their subsequent wariness, he and Maddie might have had something good together. Hank sobered a bit, pulling away from her emotionally. “I can’t get over this place, Maddie,” he said, seeking safer conversational ground. “It’s not even nine o’clock and already the sidewalks are rolled up for the night. How do you stand it here year-round?”
“Well, I don’t think it’s a matter of standing it. I love it here. It’s home. And it’s my refuge.”
Her sharp intake of a breath alerted Hank that she’d revealed more than she intended. That only sharpened his curiosity—and maybe a tiny lingering doubt—about her. “Your refuge? From what? You’re not running from the law, are you?”
“Hardly. Not unless you sic them on me.”
“Like you said: hardly. But okay, you’re not a felon. Aren’t you a little young to be seeking refuge?”
She shrugged. “It has nothing to do with age. More like emotional bruises. Or a failed relationship, whatever.” She exhaled sharply. “I really don’t want to talk about him, Hank.”
Him. Hmm. “Okay. No problem. I didn’t mean to pry. I guess I just never expected to find someone like you in a place like this. I mean, you have ‘big-city girl’ written all over you. And let’s face it, Hanscomb Harbor is not a big city.”
“No, it isn’t. But for the record, you didn’t find me. I was pretty much thrust onto you.”
He couldn’t let that pass. Grinning devilishly, he said, “Hey, thrust onto me. I like that. A great visual. But I know what you mean. Because I was thrust onto you, too. Sucks, huh?”
She chuckled. “In some ways, yes. In others, not so much.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment. And one I didn’t go fishing for.”
“Whatever,” she said, shaking her head and smiling.
Since they seemed to be getting along so well, at least for the moment, Hank chose then to voice a concern. “On another subject, are you sure Mrs. McNeer will be okay alone at the shop?”
Maddie shot him a look of amused disbelief. “Celeste? Not fine? Are you kidding? Save your worry for the customers.”
“That’s what I meant: will she wreak havoc on them?”
“Probably. Oh, take this right turn here.”
Hank shot her a questioning look as he rounded the corner onto a cobbled lane called Queen Street. “Is she that bad? I mean Mrs. McNeer.”
“Of course,” Maddie said cheerfully. “But there’re only about fifteen more minutes before closing time. Usually she needs longer than that to spawn a disaster the proportions of a tidal wave.”
“Hmm.” Hank glanced over at Maddie. Her expression said she wasn’t kidding. “So why does Mrs. McNeer still work? Does she have to? I mean, she’s pretty old to still be holding down a job.”
“Oh, please say that to her, about her being old, will you? But before you do, give me some advance notice so I can set up bleachers and sell tickets to that show. And here’s a clue—you’ll need a whip and a chair.”
“Ah. Touchy about her age, huh?”
“Oh, yes. A Gray Panther. A senior citizens’ advocate. Not about to be pushed aside or told she’s not a vital person.”
“Yeah, I think I had a taste of that attitude earlier. Well, good for her. And good for you for hiring her.”
“Hold the congratulations. I didn’t hire her. She came with the shop since it used to be hers. I bought it from her and changed the name. So she essentially adopted me and sees it as her right and her duty to terrorize me.”
Grinning, hearing the note of true affection underlying Maddie’s words, Hank stole another look at her. An oncoming car’s headlights cast a silvery reflection onto her golden hair. The effect was breathtaking. Hank felt himself tighten with an overwhelming desire for her. Cool it, man. Get it under control. Right. Hank said the first thing that popped into his mind. “So, if you were a dog, where would you be?”
Maddie tsked. “God, under heavy sedation because I’d be afraid of myself.”
Her droll retort had him laughing. “Okay, unfortunate phrasing.”
Just then he pulled up to a stop sign. Queen Street had dead-ended. Ahead of them was the infinity of the ocean. Bright moonlight glanced off the water, and gentle breakers fell onto the rocky shoreline ahead. Hank looked left, then right, and focused on Maddie. “And your best guess would be…?”
“Left. Go left.”
But he didn’t. Stopping him was the way she’d said it, how certain she sounded. With a wrist flung loosely over the steering wheel and his other elbow resting atop the console between them, Hank looked into Maddie’s eyes. “You know where the dog is, don’t you?”
She lowered her gaze from his. “I have an idea. But I could be wrong.”
Hank’s jaw worked as he considered her body language. He then looked out the window on his left and saw that the paved road disappeared around a bend about a quarter-mile down. In the middle distance, though, he could see a half-moon–shaped strand of beach lit up by a bright light atop a power pole. The crescent of sandy land supported a scattering of small cottages. From here, they looked to be the one-room kind that usually had rustic amenities and old brass beds covered in threadbare quilts. His grandfather would have loved something like this. Hank turned again to Maddie. “So. What’s all that out there?”
Her expression gave nothing away. “Just some rental cottages owned by Mr. Cotton Hardy.”
“I see. Did my grandfather rent one of them? Is that why you think the dog’s out there?”
Maddie stared forlornly at him. Then he saw her throat work convulsively and her chin quiver.
A bit alarmed, Hank tensed. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
Moonlight revealed tears standing in her eyes. “Oh, Hank, I’m just so sorry for your loss.”
Hank felt his chest tighten with emotion. “I know you are, Maddie.” He cleared his throat. “So,” he said a little too loudly. “You think Beamer’s out there at my grandfather’s cottage, huh?”
“I do. It makes sense she would go where she feels close to James. And she’s certainly not anywhere else. But I … well, it’s only now occurred to me how being here might affect you. I should have thought of—”
“No, you shouldn’t have. It’s not your job. And I’m fine, okay?”
She nodded. “I didn’t mean to step on your toes.”
“You didn’t. Which of those cottages was his?”
“Hank,” she said quietly, sincerely, “it’s all right to be sad.”
Afraid he’d crumple right here, Hank closed his eyes and rubbed at them. “I know that. I said I’m all right.” Then, grim, feeling ragged, he focused on her. “Which cottage was his, Maddie?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I never came out here. He always got a ride into town. I just know he stayed here.”
“All right. I guess we’ll know which one was his when we find the dog, right?”
Staring at her hands in her lap, she nodded. “Yes. But Hank, I just want to say that I’m sorry you didn’t know your grandfather died, that you couldn’t be here at the end, and that you missed his funeral. It all happened so fast and no one could find you. Mr. Thornton told me how he tried. It’s all so sad. And I just think it sucks, the whole thing. I include the will in that. I just wanted to say that to you, that I’m aware of what you’re going through. So there, I said it. And now I’ll shut up.”
Raw emotions played tug-of-war with Hank’s mood. He cleared his throat and sniffed. “You don’t have to shut up. And thank you for what you said. Now, shall we go do this?”
Her smile was soft, sympathetic. “Sure. You need to turn left, Hank.”
To his surprise, Hank realized that he wanted very much, at this quiet moment of some new kind of communication between them, to pull her to him and kiss her sweet mouth.
“Hank, did you hear me? You have to turn left. There’s a car behind us.”
It took a moment for her words to sink in. There was a car behind them. “Oh, hell, sorry.” Regretting the kiss that never was, Hank shifted in his seat and peered into the rearview mirror and then the sideview mirror. Sure enough, a compact sedan sat behind them … patiently, expectantly. Hank looked in both directions, saw the road was clear, and turned left, as he’d been directed.
* * *
As Mr. Hardy’s rental cottages loomed larger, Maddie rode along in silence with Hank. She wanted to kick herself for having said so much. She’d stepped over a line with him, and he’d let her know about it. His grief was private. He wasn’t open to discussing it with her. No more than she wanted to talk to him about Stanton Fairchild, her absent groom, the big jerk. Still, Maddie was glad she’d expressed her condolences to Hank. It was how she felt, and he needed to hear it since he was given to jumping to conclusions about her.
It occurred to Maddie then that they’d covered quite a bit of ground. She meant conversationally speaking as opposed to actual road miles. The amazing thing to her, though, was that she’d been able to carry on a conversation at all with him, given the electricity that crackled in the air between them. God, he was so close to her. Every breath she took was scented with his aftershave and warmed by his body’s heat. And his body? The man worked out, that was evident. Maddie couldn’t deny how her heart pounded when she stared at his profile. His appeal to her was so deep as to be on some cellular level. And her response to him could only be called primal, beyond rational comprehension, really. Okay, he was such a man. To the tenth power. Just innately attractive to women. Who knew why?
But it was more than physical. She’d met handsome men before and not been affected this deeply. Certainly, she’d admired them, had even lusted. All of that held true with Hank, too. But from the first moment she’d seen him, even though they’d been in each other’s faces, she’d felt something beyond anger. Something she had yet to explore, mainly because she didn’t want to. Not until she saw how all this other stuff with the will, et cetera, worked out. And not before she felt ready to trust again. After all, Stanton had got her as far as the altar, where he’d dropped her. A woman didn’t get over something like that quickly. Maybe not even slowly.
And maybe it didn’t matter a bit. Because who said Hank felt anything for her? Wasn’t she just opening herself up to a world of hurt by just thinking along these lines? Yes, she supposed she was. It was best, then, she concluded, to just think of him simply as someone she was thrown together with for a finite period of time. Someone who was so out of her league that they weren’t even in the same solar system. Sure, Hank had manners and a lot of class. And she could really, really like him. But it was crazy to even go there. As if he would ever reciprocate with someone like her—a small-town nice woman with no aspirations to world renown.
Still, she saw the way he looked at her. The way he watched her mouth when she spoke. Okay, so the sex between them would probably be beyond wonderful. There was no denying that. After all, she knew how she felt when he’d leaned over toward her with his elbow resting on the console. He’d been close enough that she had only to lower her head to kiss him. And she’d wanted to. Very much. But then they’d talked about James and she’d remembered Hank’s loss and how sad that was—
See? Intimacy died a quick death in the face of recent loss. Couple that with all the legal wranglings between them … and yes, getting past it all to what lay underneath would be an incredibly tough job. Not that she was sure she wanted to explore her surging pulse, she reminded herself again, or give a name to the crazy beating of her heart when she thought of him. Or the way she found herself pulled to him by an invisible rope. Or even the way she wanted to throw herself wantonly at him.
Now, how stupidly ironic was this, anyway? A little over a year ago, Stanton had scarred her for life. Or so she’d thought. And that was why she was here in Hanscomb Harbor. To get away from all those memories. To lick her wounds. To forget men, darn it. The single guys here in town had certainly come around, flirting, asking her out. But they were her friends from high school. She knew them too well. They knew it, and she knew it. And her girlfriends from high school … well, they were married and, though friendly, pretty much didn’t want her, a young single woman, around their husbands. All of this meant her circle of friends was small. Then James had come around and—
“Maddie? Where are you? I said we’re here.”
“What? We’re here? Where?” she said somewhat stupidly as she snapped out of her reverie and looked around. When had they left the pavement and pulled onto the tire-rutted trail between low dunes that led to Mr. Hardy’s cottages? Maddie felt disoriented, as if she’d been shaken awake to find herself in a different location from where she’d gone to bed. She blinked and reality sorted itself out, assuming familiar shapes. “Oh, the cottages. Of course.”
“You all right? You look lost or something.”
“Oh. No, I’m fine. Sorry. I was just thinking.”
“Care to share?”
Share what? That she couldn’t believe that he’d popped into her life just when she really didn’t want someone to pop into her life, only to have him turn out to be someone she really couldn’t have because he was totally out of her league? She thought all that, but what she said was: “No.”
He nodded fair enough and said, “Then how do you want to do this? I don’t want to get shot. Or have the cops called.”
“Don’t worry about that. The police, I mean. There are only two and, well, they’re harmless.”
“Like in Mayberry? Sheriff Andy and Deputy Barney?”
“Ha-ha, big-city boy.” Maddie raised her chin with mock offended pride. She wasn’t about to admit to him that he wasn’t far off the mark with Chief Brickman and Deputy Louie.
Maddie opened her car door and heard Hank opening his. The warm night air grabbed her and wrapped her in its cocoon embrace. The soft whooshing of the waves grasping at the shoreline reassured her somehow that everything would be fine. Still in the SUV, she turned to Hank. “I guess the best thing to do is be as quiet as we can and just look for her. I mean, a dog that big should be easy to spot.”
“Assuming she wants to be spotted. If she doesn’t want to be … in this dark and with these dunes and the cover of all those cottages?” Hank shrugged, shaking his head. “Could be difficult. And we’re only assuming she’s here.”
“She has to be here, Hank. She certainly isn’t anywhere else. Anyway, I think we should start with that one.” Maddie pointed to a darkened cabin that sat a forlorn distance from the others, much like the new kid at school no one wanted to sit with at lunch.
“Why that one?” With his question, he leaned over toward her, opened the glove compartment, and pulled out a flashlight. His hand was within inches of her knee. Maddie caught her breath. Hank stared into her eyes. She had to fist her hand to keep from stroking his cheek and leaning forward to kiss his mouth. “You never know when you might need one,” he said, grinning, winking at her. He then flipped the compartment door closed, sat up, and waited.
For what? Maddie honestly couldn’t remember. She desperately cast about in her mind for the thread of their conversation. The man did the funniest things to her ability to pay attention. She couldn’t believe she was acting like this. Was there such a thing as sexual dementia? You just got berserk around the one who turned you on? You did and said stupid things? And stared? And lost your mind? And couldn’t keep up with simple conversations?
“Maddie?”
Blessedly, the sound of his voice popped her sanely back to the moment. “Oh. Sorry. That cottage there. Yes. I think I remember James saying the one he always rented was situated beyond the others. That one certainly is. And there’s no car out front and the lights are off. It might be the safest one to start with, if nothing else.”
“True.” That was all he said as he opened his door and climbed out, closing the door behind him.
Maddie was suddenly assailed with a sense of being totally alone in her own world. It was awful. Sad. Lonely.
“Oh, God,” she said softly to herself. I have got to quit feeling these things. I don’t need it. And Hank certainly doesn’t, either. I am pretty much the enemy right now. I have control of everything that he has ever worked for. And he could lose it all. And I could never see him again, win or lose.
Unable to stand her own thoughts, Maddie exited the Navigator, untied her bib apron, and tossed it onto the seat. She then realized that the fine, dry sand under her feet had poured into her sandals. Ick. She shook her feet, one at a time, trying to rid them of the sand. Finally, with a tsk of annoyance, and holding her long and silky peasant skirt up with one hand, she slipped out of her shoes, bent to pick them up, and shook them. With a careless toss of her wrist, she flipped them onto the SUV’s floorboard and closed the car door.
She turned. Moonlight revealed Hank standing there watching her. Something deep inside Maddie awakened again. She stilled and met his gaze. The look on Hank’s face said he’d been standing there a while. Obviously he’d skirted the back of his vehicle, only to catch her engaged in a moonlit ritual of shoe-shedding … with her skirt raised well above her knees. She should probably say something. “It’s just easier for me in the sand when I’m barefooted.”
He nodded, staring at her as if she’d performed some intensely intimate rite in front of him, one she’d had no right to do, a thing that had unnerved him.
With her face heating up from embarrassment, Maddie blessed the relative darkness she stood in. “What?”
“Nothing.” He flicked on the flashlight, pointed it at the ground in front of them, and said, “After you.”
“All right. But I think we should go the back way here. Behind these other cabins so we don’t scare the tenants.”
Hank nodded and leveled a battery-powered beam of light in the direction she’d indicated. He directed it over the landscape and said, “Okay. But how are you going to get over those dunes? They aren’t as navigable as the beach route, I’ll bet.” He now flashed the light on her bare feet. “Look. Your skirt is long and you’re barefooted. It could be tough going for you.”
Maddie refused to look down at her feet. She could feel her toes, the traitors, wriggling their agreement with Hank. “I’m used to this terrain. I did grow up here, you know. I’ll be fine.”
“Whatever you say.” His careless shrug said she would fall flat on her face not ten feet out from the car.
Maddie pursed her lips but refused to rise to the bait. And so they proceeded in slow and stumbling steps. The sand was maddeningly thick and fine. And hot and shifting. And uneven. So, of course, Maddie finally fell face-first, in a helpless belly flop, onto the surprisingly hard mound of sand. Her air left her in a surprised squawk of outrage, and she lay there stunned, not quite believing yet that she was on the ground.
She heard Hank sigh as he gripped her around the waist and pulled her to her feet. So surprisingly strong was he, so easily did he lift her, Maddie felt as if she were being pulled backward through a vortex of air. She expected her ears to pop. She then realized he’d lifted her with one arm wrapped around her. His other hand still held the flashlight.
“Are you okay?” Amusement laced his voice.
Stung and embarrassed, Maddie barked, “I’m fine. Just stand back while I dust myself off, okay?” She angrily rubbed at her arms and then shook out her skirt. “And don’t you dare say ‘I told you so,’ Hank Madison.”
“I wasn’t going to.” He backed off a few paces and stood facing her. His back was to the moonlight as he held the flashlight’s beam on her so she could see what she was doing.
Such geographical placement meant Maddie couldn’t see his face to see if he was still laughing at her. It was just as well, given how her dignity smarted. Because if she could see he was enjoying this, she’d probably push him down hard just to show him how it felt. At last she was as sand-free as she was going to get, and they set off again.
Blessedly, the dunes leveled out some toward the deep stretch of sandy beach. The going was a bit easier. But apparently Hank wasn’t taking any chances. Without a word, he’d taken her elbow and guided her along. Maddie’s first thought was that she should protest and pull away. But she didn’t. Because to do so would be a silly thing, she told herself. Not the least bit expedient or reasonable. Why fall on her face again if Hank’s grip—Hank’s strong, warm grip—could help her? There was a time to be aloof and a time to be smart. This time was the latter.
“Maddie,” Hank said out of the blue … or the black of night, she supposed. “You do remember this is Beamer we’re looking for, right?”
“Of course I do. Why would you ask that?”
“Sorry. Watch that grassy tuft there.” He’d knocked into her, forcing her to clutch at him for support. They righted themselves. He still gripped her elbow. “I mean, you’re not going to run screaming into the ocean when we find her, are you?”
I might, was her thought. But what she said was: “Of course not. Don’t be silly. No one ever died from being licked. I know that.”
Hank stopped. His hand on her elbow forced her to do the same. He stood facing her now, the flashlight held down at his side. Its light illuminated her bare feet and his jogging shoes. To strangers they would appear to be on the verge of a romantic embrace. “Wait a minute. I want to ask you something.”
“Okay.” Maddie’s stomach did a flip-flop. All she could see was Hank’s profile, the side of his face lit by the moon. He was so incredibly handsome, so stirring, that Maddie’s breath caught.
“When we were in Jim’s office, at the reading of the will, why did you sign those papers?”
His question functioned like a cold shower, dousing Maddie with reality. Her knees stiffened and her heart thudded dully. “Which ones specifically? I signed a lot of papers.”
“The ones to do with my business.”
“I didn’t think I had a choice in the matter, Hank,” she replied cautiously, levelly. “Not any more of one than you did. I mean, your grandfather just left it all to me. In the same way someone might bequeath Aunt Tillie’s brooch to little Mary.”
“It’s a little more complicated than that.”
“Only in size. The effect was the same. But let me ask you something. Why do you think he did this to you? And why did he include me? That’s the part I don’t get. Gosh, if it’s a vacation he wanted you to take, why not in Rome or in the Caribbean? Why me? And why Hanscomb Harbor? Sure, it’s my hometown, and I love it. But it’s pretty much off the beaten path for someone like you and your set.”
Hank shrugged. “I don’t know that I have a set, but still, I couldn’t agree more. I’m sure he had his reasons, ones that made sense to him. Although they certainly don’t to me.”
Maddie licked at her lips. “Do you think maybe he…” She couldn’t get the words out. It was a crazy thought she should never have attempted to voice.
“Do I think maybe he what?”
Struck shy and reluctant, afraid he’d laugh at her or really think she had designs on him, Maddie studied the pattern in the sand she was designing with her big toe. In the background, the steady whoosh-whoosh of the waves hitting the shore reminded her of a giant beating heart, one about the size hers felt whenever she was this close to Hank Madison.
Finally, she faced him. “Okay, here it is. Either James was totally nuts, which we both agree he probably was—”
“Jim doesn’t think so. And he did redo my grandfather’s will based on his state of mind in his last hours.”
“True. Okay, so that aside. But James naming me and Hanscomb Harbor? And forcing you to be here, where I am? Well, do you think his last hope could have been that we—you and I—might get together … or something?”
Hank stiffened and sucked in air like someone had hit him in the stomach with a two-by-four. Maddie wanted to die for having spoken her mind. “No,” Hank blurted, sounding stubborn. “I don’t. Not at all. Let’s go find the dog.”