“Just get in the car, Adrienne,” Drew said impatiently. “It’s getting chilly up here and you’re exhausted.”
“I don’t think I should leave until they’ve located Lucas.”
“There are a dozen cops looking for him.”
“Not a dozen.”
“A lot. And cops looking for Lottie. Cops with guns, which we don’t have, while there happens to be someone with a semiautomatic rifle roaming around. I, for one, think we should get the hell out of Dodge before we get ourselves killed. You have a daughter to think of, Adrienne.”
“Oh, that’s good, use the ultimate guilt card,” she nearly snarled at him, furious because he was right. She was accomplishing nothing by standing around outside of Lottie’s cabin making a possible target of herself. “I can’t just leave my car up here.”
“Why not? What’s going to happen to it? And may I point out that it’s stuck? It will have to be pulled out of those ruts. My car, on the other hand, had an excellent driver behind the wheel and is still functional. In peak condition. So get in and stop bitching.”
“You are so gallant. How could I possibly resist such an offer?”
Adrienne climbed into the dark Camaro that had cruised past her place several times one night, frightening her. Drew said he’d been looking out for her. And maybe he had, she thought. It would be like him to do something on a whim. He probably thought he was being terribly valiant. But she would still rather it was him cruising past her house than Rachel’s boyfriend, Bruce Allard. Vicky said he was okay, just a little arrogant, but Adrienne liked to make her own assessments of people, and the night he’d stopped at her house and nearly insisted Rachel leave with him, he’d made a less than favorable impression.
“I thought that last yawn was going to unhinge your jaw,” Drew said as they pulled off the hill and started south on the highway toward town. “Will you be able to stay awake all the way home?”
“It should only take ten minutes. I’ll make it. What about you? You look fresh as a daisy.”
Drew burst into laughter. “Well, now, I can’t remember the last time a woman said that to me. I think it was my mother when I was two. But I’ve always been a night person. Sometimes it’s not so great. Lends itself to insomnia.”
They drove in silence through the outskirts of town, then turned onto Adrienne’s street. Most of the houses had tasteful, glowing lamps standing beside their front walks. The grounds around Adrienne’s house glared like an amusement park.
“Oh God,” she said. “No wonder none of the neighbors are speaking to me since I had the lights installed.”
“They probably can’t get any sleep. It’s like being in those countries where it’s light half the year.”
“The Land of the Midnight Sun. My mother would be so embarrassed.”
Drew smiled. “Your mother would be glad you had sense enough to put up enough lights to scare away any intruder, unless he’s absolutely nuts.”
They pulled up in front of Adrienne’s house. Drew got out and rushed to open her door, startling her. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had opened a car door for her. She mumbled “Thanks” and could think of nothing else to say as he walked her to the front door, then stood looking at her. “I’m home now,” Adrienne said uncomfortably. “Good night.”
“You’re not brushing me off. I’m staying.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“No need. It’s my pleasure.”
“Drew, you are not spending the night with me.”
“I’m not leaving you alone. You can’t call Kit and ask her to stay with you. She’ll be busy at the restaurant until after midnight and then she’s always tired enough to drop dead. Or so I’ve heard.”
“I know you have no direct knowledge of her sleeping habits,” Adrienne said. “She’s probably the only woman in town who’s missed out on your charms at night.”
“Oh, Adrienne, you make me blush. Of course, since Kit’s not available, you could call up Ellen and have a slumber party. She could tell you about all the spooky things that have happened at la Belle.”
“I think she already has,” Adrienne said morosely.
“Or there’s Miss Snow from the French Art Colony. Now she’s a live wire. She’ll keep you drinking and dancing and trying out new hairstyles till morning.”
Adrienne sighed. “I guess you’re invited for the night.”
“Why, thank you kindly, my lady.”
“Any port in a storm.”
“I was hoping for a more gracious acceptance of my offer, but at least I’m getting in the door.”
“And that’s all you’re getting, buster,” Adrienne said firmly. “If I weren’t scared witless tonight, you wouldn’t be staying here. This is not a romantic evening. No hanky-panky. Not even any flirting.”
“This is sounding like more and more fun. Am I allowed to take off my jacket, or must I keep it zipped up to my neck?”
“Zip it. I’m going to call and check on Skye. You and Brandon go sit in the living room. I’ll fix you something to drink later.”
“Thanks. We’ll each have a margarita. With salt.”
Louise Granger assured Adrienne that Skye and Sherry had gone to bed before eleven and were now pretending to be asleep, although she could hear them murmuring behind Sherry’s closed door. “Can you remember being that young and having so much to say?” Louise laughed. “Of course, when every little thing from hairstyles to movie stars are of utmost importance, I guess you do have quite a bit more to say than us middle-aged women. Oh, not that you’re middle-aged, Adrienne. You look a good ten years younger than me.”
“No I don’t,” Adrienne said truthfully. “Listen, Louise, I can’t tell you a whole lot about what went on tonight, but I don’t want to leave you completely in the dark. The woman who was murdered at la Belle, Julianna Brent, had been a friend of mine for a long time. I was close to her mother Lottie, too. Lottie has been missing. She lives in a primitive little cabin near la Belle, and she finally called me this evening. I went up there to find her, but she wasn’t home.” Adrienne decided to completely omit any mention of her being the target of a rifle. “The police decided to come up and look for her. Lottie isn’t well and she could be out in those woods, hurt. They wanted me to stay around for a while in case they found her so I could calm her if she was frightened by all the unfamiliar men in uniforms.”
“Well, that poor thing,” Louise said sympathetically. “I’ve heard of her. She sells candles, doesn’t she? We bought some at the Women’s Club. Quite a few of them, really. We do such good work at the Women’s Club. You aren’t a member, are you, Adrienne? You should become one. I’m sure you’d enjoy it so much!”
Adrienne nearly let out a groan. Since she was an adolescent, she’d hated club work. “Well, I’m pretty busy now, but we’ll see. So, I just wanted to check on Skye and give you a heads-up on what kept me away from home. Thanks so much for coming to get her and letting her spend the night.” Sensing that Louise was drawing breath for more conversation, Adrienne let out a noisy, fake yawn. “Oh, my goodness, I’m nearly asleep on my feet. Can hardly hold my eyes open. Thanks again, Louise. ‘Bye.”
Louise was saying something about talking more about the Women’s Club in the morning as Adrienne hung up. Please don’t let me be a spineless wimp who gets guilt-tripped into joining, Adrienne asked whoever controlled such matters. She wasn’t a joiner. That forte had always been Vicky’s.
Adrienne called from the kitchen, “Are you hungry?”
“I could eat a bear,” Drew yelled back.
“How about blueberry muffins instead? I got Vicky’s housekeeper, Mrs. Pitt’s, recipe and actually baked a successful batch this afternoon. I could heat them in the microwave and put on a pot of coffee.”
“Sounds good. But what happened to the margaritas?”
“We’re standing vigil tonight, Drew, not having a party. Besides, after one margarita Brandon always has the lampshade on his head and wants to salsa-dance.”
“Sounds like fun to me.”
“Vigil Drew. Keep the word in mind.”
Ten minutes later, Adrienne clattered back into the living room carrying an overloaded serving tray while she talked fast and furious, laughing shrilly as she slopped too much milk into coffee cups and dropped a pat of butter on her best rug.
Finally, Drew reached out and placed two fingers on her lips. “Hush, Adrienne,” he said gently. “Just hush, take a deep breath, and relax.”
Her false gaiety popped like a balloon. “I don’t think I can. I was trying not to be a wreck, to act brave and resilient, but when I was in the kitchen, everything that’s happened tonight hit me. I could be dead—”
“But you’re not.”
She ignored the interruption. “And here you and I sit, talking and laughing like nothing’s wrong while both Lottie and Lucas are missing and someone’s going around shooting people, for God’s sake!”
“We don’t know that anyone has actually been shot You were only shot at—”
“Oh, that’s fine. Shot at. I feel so much better now!”
Drew sighed. “Before you get mad at me again tonight would you let me finish a thought?” Adrienne shut her mouth. “First, someone shot at you—not once but three times—and you weren’t touched. Now, either that someone is a bad shot, or he didn’t mean to kill you. Second, Lottie wasn’t in the cabin. There was no blood, not even any sign of a struggle. Think of how easy it would for her to hide in the woods she’s lived in all of her life. She probably knows of hiding places no one else has ever seen.”
Adrienne thought of the Hideaway. Ellen knew about it Would Lottie have gone there? Should she have told the police about the place? She hadn’t. Now that seemed silly. Still, she didn’t know who might be in the woods, overhearing every word she said. “Third,” Drew continued, “Lucas Flynn didn’t show up. That’s odd, but not necessarily a disaster. A dozen things could have happened to him.”
“Like what?”
“He got a flat tire.”
“He doesn’t answer his cell phone.”
“The battery is dead.”
“You have an answer for everything.”
“No I don’t I’m just saying answers exist that aren’t catastrophic. C’mon, Adrienne, it isn’t like you to be a neurotic pessimist”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve known you since we were six. I had you completely analyzed by the time we turned seven.”
Adrienne gave him a hard look. “Life is just one big joke to you, isn’t it?”
To her surprise, Drew recoiled. Adrienne hadn’t thought anything she could say would really touch him, much less sting. “No, Adrienne, I don’t think life is a joke,” he said solemnly. “I think life is hard and hurtful and very often wantonly cruel. That’s why you have to look for the good things, try to be positive and not always expect the worst. If you don’t, the dark side of life will overwhelm you. You probably find that philosophy as unbearably shallow and banal as you find me, but that’s how I feel.”
He turned his attention to his coffee, taking a deep sip and wincing slightly at its heat, then looking over at Brandon. The dog stared back at him mournfully.
“I don’t think you’re shallow or banal,” Adrienne finally said. “It’s just that in the past you were so cavalier about life. About me.” She glanced down at her hands. “I was in love with you years ago. Really in love. And you knew it. If you didn’t feel the same, you could have talked to me, let me down gently, something that showed an ounce of consideration for my feelings. Instead, you took off for New York after graduation, called a few times, sent some letters, then some postcards, then got married! I had to hear about your marriage from someone else. Do you have any idea how that felt? I deserved better from you, Drew Delaney. I deserved better!”
Drew stood up, walked to the front window, and stared out at her front lawn blazing under dusk-to-dawn lights. “Don’t stand in front of the window,” Adrienne said. “You’re making yourself a perfect target if the shooter decided to follow us home.”
“Thanks for caring,” he said absently and stepped back without haste. He didn’t seem at all concerned that someone might be aiming a rifle at him. Adrienne walked over, pulled the draperies shut, then returned to her chair. She couldn’t think of a thing to say.
“Adrienne, I wish I had a good excuse for what I did back then,” Drew finally began, his voice low and hesitant “AU I can say is that I was young and ambitious and extremely self-centered. And inexperienced. I’d lived all my life in this little town and then I went to New York City.” He looked at her and smiled regretfully. “It was like being on a different planet. So much was going on all the time. I was awestruck, and I dived into the action like I used to dive into the pool at la Belle. It wasn’t long before this town and everyone in it began to seem far away, not just physically but emotionally. I met new people I thought were bigger, better, more exciting than anyone I’d ever known. It took a few years for me to learn the simple lesson that people are basically the same underneath no matter where they live. It’s only the facade that sometimes glitters more brightly. And that’s when I decided to come home and try to start over.”
“Start what over? Your career?”
“Partly. Mostly my personal life. I’ve been married twice, Adrienne, and I didn’t really know either of those women.”
“What are you saying? That the divorces happened because they disappointed you? They weren’t good women?”
“They were probably fine women. Honestly, I didn’t get to know either of them well, not the way you should know a wife. I didn’t bother to because I quickly realized they weren’t what I’d once had, what I wanted more than anything” He looked at her. “They weren’t you.”
Adrienne fell silent, stunned. Drew went back to looking out the window. She stared at the floor. The phone went off like a bomb and Adrienne nearly leaped out of her chair.
“Good grief!” she yelled accusingly at no one, then ran to answer. It was Lucas.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes. Yes, I’m fine, considering. Lucas, where were you?”
“In a ditch. Unconscious. Someone shot out one of my tires. I went careening off the highway into the woods. Then they shot me in the shoulder. It took a little while for Sonny Keller and the troops to find me.”
“My God,” she breathed. “How badly are you hurt?”
“The doctor says I’ll live. The shot went straight through and there’s no bone damage. I could in good conscience take a day off, but I don’t want to. I couldn’t stand to. I have to find out what’s going on in this area.” He paused. “Keller filled me in on what happened to you.”
“No doubt it was the same shooter, but how did he know to get both of us? No one knew you were coming to Lottie’s.”
“I don’t know,” Lucas said vaguely. He sounded as if he were in pain. “I must have been followed. And so were you.”
She knew Drew had followed her. He openly admitted it. But she was certain he hadn’t shot at her. That meant there was another player in the game, someone still out there, still waiting for another shot.
After Lucas’s call, Adrienne told Drew the sheriff was wounded but not seriously, the trouble seemed to have died down for the night, and he could leave.
“I don’t think so,” he returned equably after a moment of thought. “Lottie hasn’t been found. Neither has the shooter. That doesn’t make me feel any better about your safety than I did a half hour ago. So I’m staying until morning whether or not I’m welcome.”
Adrienne worked hard at looking resigned to hide her vast relief. She was still deeply shaken by the shooting at Lottie’s cabin, and the fear she’d carried around with her for the past few days remained settled like a cold rock in her stomach. She was jittery. She was cold. She was wide awake, every nerve tingling. She couldn’t imagine calming down for weeks, much less tonight, and she was glad she didn’t have to wait alone through the long dark hours until morning.
Both she and Drew agreed they were too wired to sleep, but they still switched from caffeine-infused coffee to wine in an effort to wind down a notch. Adrienne put on some music, and they sat down a few inches apart on the couch. Brandon fell into a comfortable, snoring stupor at their feet.
Finally Drew asked, “Does Lucas have any idea who might have shot him?”
“No. But he said they haven’t been able to locate Miles Shaw since he was questioned before noon yesterday about Margaret’s murder. Miles seems to be purposely making himself scarce.”
“Shaw has no reason to be frightened. He has an alibi. At least ten people have already sworn they saw him in Heaven’s Door at the time of Margaret’s murder.”
“Ten people? How do you know that?”
Drew looked at her cannily. “I have sources in the police department, my dear. I know every word Shaw said in his interrogation and every step that’s been taken in the ensuing investigation.”
“Well, aren’t you the deep one,” Adrienne said, only half joking. “But I shouldn’t be surprised. Even back in high school you had a gift for keeping your finger on the pulse of things.”
“It is a rare and fine gift,” Drew agreed solemnly. “It’s called being nosy.”
“Lots of people are nosy but they aren’t good at finding out what they want to know. You are a master at it. No wonder you went into journalism. But back in high school, you claimed your goal was to write the Great American Novel.”
“About five hundred thousand other people and I want to write it and end up working at newspapers instead.” He drained his wine and reached for the bottle that sat on the huge stained-glass-topped table in front of them. “Good wine.”
“Nothing expensive. I’m hardly a connoisseur like my brother-in-law.”
“Philip probably doesn’t even like wine. He just collects expensive vintages because he considers it the correct thing to do for someone in his social position. Philip always does the correct thing.”
“Almost always,” Adrienne said sourly, instantly regretting her words when Drew gave her a quick, curious look.
Still, in this moment of closeness, Adrienne wanted desperately to ask Drew if he’d known about Philip and Julianna. She couldn’t, though. She had to remember that Drew was a newspaperman. Philip was family. Technically, at least Philip had never felt like family to her, and she knew his feelings toward her were less than kind. They’d always barely tolerated each other. Julianna’s passion for him baffled her. So did her ability to keep it a secret for so long. Adrienne never had a clue. Had Kit known? Drew tilted his head, his dark eyes twinkling at her. “What’s on your mind?”
“The strange ways of romance.” He raised his eyebrows and she went on, knowing drinking too much wine too fast was making her dangerously talkative but unable to stop herself. “I mean, the way people are attracted to each other. Or not. There can be a man and woman you’d think would ignite all kinds of sparks between each other, but phttt. Nothing. Then there are some people you would never expect to look twice at each other and they fall madly in love. Really in love for years. Maybe forever, if love actually goes on forever, even beyond death.” She looked at him. “I’m babbling.”
“No you’re not You have something definite on your mind. I know your talk of love lasting forever wasn’t inspired by Margaret and Miles. I hope it wasn’t inspired by you and Lucas Flynn.” She dropped her gaze. “You’re thinking about Philip and Julianna, aren’t you?”
She gaped. “You knew?” He nodded. “How? For how long?”
“How did I know? By watching. Closely, I admit, but neither one of them is an outstanding actor. For how long? For years. Since Julianna was a teenager. The first time I saw them together when I came back from New York, I could see that their feelings had only gotten stronger.”
“I’m astonished,” Adrienne said faintly. “I didn’t see anything.”
“I don’t believe that You’re too perceptive to have missed it. You just shut out what you saw because Julianna was one of your best friends and Philip is married to your sister.”
“You really saw it twenty years ago?”
“I really did. At la Belle, where all weird things flourish. Ellen Kirkwood isn’t completely off her rocker for thinking there’s something definitely not right about that place. It seems to be a breeding ground for bad situations—violent situations, tragic situations, potentially destructive romantic situations.”
“She told me the hotel’s history one day, and I felt the same way you do about her not being as crazy as she sounds when she talks about the place.” Adrienne took another sip of wine she knew she didn’t need. “Do you think the relationship between Philip and Julianna led to Juli’s murder?”
Drew nodded. “Yes, Adrienne, I do. I’m not saying I think Philip killed her, although I’m not ruling that out because he could have snapped if she got too demanding or threatened to go public. I think Philip is capable of killing in the heat of the moment.” He paused. “Or, Julianna’s murder could have been the product of Philip’s or someone else’s careful planning, of someone waiting to get her in a secluded place where the killer had plenty of time to get away. Less time because you and Skye showed up unexpectedly. But whatever the circumstances, I think Julianna was murdered because she loved Philip Hamilton.”
“And the other murders?”
“By-products of the first. A terrible chain reaction to Julianna’s murder.”
“Oh, my God,” Adrienne moaned.
“You’re too smart not to have thought of this before.”
“I had thought of it,” Adrienne admitted, “but haphazardly, not as coolly and logically as you. And I didn’t know until tonight that Julianna was involved with Philip. I was like Vicky. I thought he was probably dallying with Margaret.”
“Or maybe that’s what Vicky wanted you to believe that’s what she thought.”
“That is what Vicky thought, Drew. What are you trying to do? Get me to say I believed Vicky was capable of killing her rival, Julianna?”
“Instead of saying you thought she was capable of killing her rival, Margaret?”
“I did not think—” she began heatedly, then broke off. Yes, when she’d seen how ravaged Vicky had looked the morning after Margaret’s body had been found, Adrienne had feared deep in her bones that Vicky, maybe having consumed far too much alcohol and too many pills, had done the unthinkable. Adrienne drew a deep breath, all of her defensiveness crumbling under the weight of exhaustion, and let her head drop onto Drew’s shoulder. “I don’t know what I think anymore and I’m getting a helluva headache.”
“No wonder.” Drew’s right hand came up and he began massaging her neck. “This is where your tension headaches start They always have.”
“I give up. You do know me well. And what you’re doing feels wonderful.”
Adrienne sipped more wine. Drew rubbed her tight neck muscles with exactly the right amount of pressure. From the CD player, Don Henley sang “Taking You Home,” about the love he’d found that was like nothing he’d ever known before. Adrienne lost herself in the lyrics, drifting along with Don’s words and Drew’s gentle and familiar touch. With a start she realized that for the first time in days—maybe even years—she felt warm and secure and, incredibly, loved.
Her head jerked up. “What’s wrong?” Drew asked huskily, his breath warm on her cheek, his depthless dark eyes probing hers. She couldn’t answer. She didn’t trust her own voice. As if understanding what she wouldn’t make herself say, he gave her the old, intimate smile she knew so well and gently placed his hands on either side of her face and drew it closer to his own. “Don’t worry, Adrienne,” he murmured. “We’re together and everything is going to be all right. I’m going to make it all right. You’ll see. So just relax for tonight, my darling. Pretend we’re the only two people in the world.”
And with a sigh, she did.
“Adrienne? Adrienne! Are you all right in there? Adrienne, I swear, if you’re dead—”
Adrienne’s consciousness rose, broke water, then slid into the dark, quiet depths again until the strident voice refused to let it float in peace and summoned her back to the bright colors, harsh lights, and sharp edges of the waking world. Adrienne blinked, stretched, coughed, then finally realized that Kit was pounding for all she was worth on Adrienne’s big picture window right behind the couch.
“If you’re asleep, wake up” Kit shouted. “Dear God, please just be asleep. Don’t be dead, Adrienne. Don’t you dare be dead!”
Adrienne opened her eyes wide, looked over at Drew, whose head moved although his eyes were still closed, then she lifted her head and glanced down at the afghan covering their naked bodies. Out of reflex, she pulled it higher, although nothing but their shoulders were exposed.
The draperies had caught on the back of the couch, leaving them open at least an inch. Squinting, she could see Kit outside trampling a marigold bed as she bent and stooped and knelt, trying to peer through the crack in the draperies. When Kit saw Adrienne move, she let out a whoop of joy and smacked her hands against the glass. Adrienne groaned. Then slowly, every muscle and joint rebelling, she rolled off the couch and began scrambling for her clothes. She finally made it to the front door, fumbled with the lock and dead bolt, then opened it to a dazzling blaze of morning light.
Adrienne immediately shut her eyes against the brightness as Kit pulled her forward and closed strong arms around her. “God, Adrienne, why didn’t you answer your phone? You just go around getting shot at, run home, and unplug the phone!”
“I didn’t unplug the phone.” Adrienne’s tongue felt too big for her mouth. “Besides, I have a cell phone.”
“Two phones, no answer.” Kit stepped inside and closed the door behind her, mercifully shutting out the blinding morning light. Adrienne glanced at her through slitted eyes. Kit’s short, dark hair looked as if she’d run a damp comb through it, not put it through the ritual washing and curling-iron routine, and her eyes were bloodshot from sleep deprivation. She wore sweatpants and a wrinkled T-shirt, her pale skin had a grayish cast, and a narrow scratch snaked its way across her forehead. “I have been worried sick about you.”
“I’m sorry. You have no idea—”
“You’re right.” Kit suddenly sounded angry. “I have no idea because you wouldn’t bother to let me or anyone else know you were all right.” She glanced over at Drew, floundering on the couch like some dazed creature on unfamiliar territory. “Well, no wonder you didn’t want to bother answering the phone.”
“Kit, I was not avoiding the phone,” Adrienne returned irritably. Then she had a horrible thought. What if Drew stood up. He wore nothing under the afghan. “Coffee!” she nearly shouted. “I must have coffee! Come into the kitchen with me.”
Kit had begun to grin. She turned to the living room and called, “Drew, stop struggling with that afghan. You look like you’re in pain. Coffee is coming up.”
“Thank God,” he groaned as the two women disappeared into the kitchen.
Adrienne reached for the coffee bin and Kit sat down at the kitchen table. “Before you start firing more questions at me,” Adrienne said, “tell me to what I owe this frantic morning visit, flatteringly loud joy over discovering that I’m not dead, and fury that I didn’t answer a phone that never rang.”
“Gail Brent. She called me this morning. You know she dates Sonny Keller, the cop. He told her all about you going to Lottie’s cabin, someone shooting at you, you getting away but Lucas being shot. When I couldn’t reach you, I was afraid whoever shot at you at the cabin got to you later.” Kit paused. “I don’t think Keller knew Drew Delaney was keeping you company while Lucas is in the hospital. If so, he’d be spreading the news all over town. Of course, I’m surprised—no, stunned—myself, although I’ve never thought Lucas was right for you. He’s too serious.”
“This is not a big deal, Kit. Drew was protecting me.”
Kit exploded into laughter. “Stop cackling,” Adrienne snapped, although her facial expression wasn’t as stern as her voice. “We had quite an evening.”
“I’m sure,” Kit guffawed.
“Will you quit it? You sound like you’re fifteen.”
“And the two of you look like you’re fifteen, all tousled hair, guilty glances, and flaming cheeks.”
“Flaming cheeks? You’re imagining that. Drew has never blushed in his life. Besides, neither of us has anything to blush about.”
“Come on, Adrienne, I’m your best friend. I deserve to get the details about everything. You can start with the shooting.”
“Thank you. I thought you found the shooting part boring, just a prelude leading up to the big moment with Drew.”
“I want to hear about the whole evening. And you’re dumping way too many grounds in the coffeemaker basket”
“No I’m not Drew and I need something to wake us up. We drank quite a bit of wine. Just to relax.”
“While he was protecting you. All good bodyguards drink while doing their jobs.”
“Do you have an extra toothbrush?” Drew yelled from the bathroom.
Kit bent double with laughter. “This gets better and better.”
“Oh, be quiet,” Adrienne snarled, unable to stop herself from grinning. “There’s an unopened one in the medicine cabinet,” she called back to Drew.
“If he asks for bubble bath, I won’t be able to bear it,” Kit choked out.
“If he asks for the bubble bath, I’m throwing both of you out.” Adrienne flipped on the coffeemaker. “About my almost being killed last night.”
“Oh yes.” Kit wiped tears from her eyes and made an effort to look properly horrified. “What happened?”
“I’m sure you got the basic story from Gail.” Adrienne sat down at the table as the coffeemaker kicked into action. “Lottie called me. She sounded really sick, but she refused to come into town. She wouldn’t even tell me where she was, but I guessed she was at the cabin, so I decided I’d go to her without letting her know I was corning. I called Lucas and asked him to meet me there. I went, and as I was walking into the cabin, someone shot at me. With a rifle, I might add, not a handgun. Obviously, they missed. I hit the floor and was absolutely frozen and then Drew came along. Apparently, he’d been following me. Lottie wasn’t in the cabin. Lucas never showed up. So, Drew called 911. Then he brought me home and stayed with me in case whoever tried to kill me the first time decided to try it again. He didn’t want me to be alone. That’s all there is to our being together.”
“Try that last part on someone who didn’t look through the slit between the draperies at the front window and see the two of you all wrapped up together on the couch.”
“We weren’t wrapped up together.”
“You didn’t see yourselves. Where’s Skye?”
“At Sherry Grangers’s. I sent her there as soon as trouble started at the cabin. I just hope she hasn’t heard anything about the shooting.” Adrienne paused. “You said Gail called you with the news. Why?”
“Because you’re my friend.”
“But Gail isn’t our friend. I didn’t think she’d care less what happened to either one of us.”
Kit shot her a troubled glance. “You know, I was so upset over what she told me about you, I didn’t even think about how odd it was for her to call me all full of concern for you. And you know something else? I asked her about her mother, and she said in this offhand tone that Lottie hadn’t been found but that she’d turn up. Considering the shooting, that’s cold, even for Gail.”
“I agree.” Adrienne got up to pour coffee. “How did you scratch your forehead?”
“What? Oh, that I came tearing down the rear stairs from my apartment this morning and just missed smacking into a limb on the dogwood tree. I guess a twig got me. Is it bleeding?”
“There was a little bit of blood, but it’s dried. You need to put some antiseptic on it, though. I have some in the bathroom.”
“Which is occupied.”
“Not for long.” Adrienne set a mug of coffee in front of Kit, then headed out of the kitchen with another in her hand.
“Coffee in the bathroom?” Kit teased. “Not quite as good as breakfast in bed.”
“It’s as good as it gets around here.”
Adrienne met Drew coming out of the bathroom. His face was flushed from vigorous splashing with cold water, his dark eyes were as bloodshot as Kit’s, his hair stood on end, and Adrienne’s heart caught at how gorgeous he looked in spite of it all. “Here,” she said abruptly, thrusting the coffee mug at him and feeling like a girl of Skye’s age with a crush.
Drew took it gratefully. “I’ll have time to run home and take a shower and shave, but no time for breakfast. Eggs and toast I can manage without. Caffeine is a different matter.” He slurped coffee. “Good and strong. Hey, is Kit giving you a hard time about me being here?”
“Just relentless teasing.”
“Well, if it gets too bad, ask her where Miles Shaw spent the night.”
“What do you mean?”
“I saw him going up the back stairs to her apartment last night.”
“Before you followed me to Lottie’s? Really, Drew, do you ever spend an evening at home minding your own business?”
“Not if I can help it.”
“Miles Shaw?” Adrienne asked softly. “Are you sure?”
“It’s kind of hard to mistake him for someone else. The guy’s a giant and his hair is three feet long.”
“Probably longer. I wonder what he was doing there?”
“I don’t know, but he was carrying a knapsack and a small suitcase.” Drew emptied his coffee mug and handed it back to her. “Thanks for this. I have to run.” He hesitated, then leaned forward and gave her a glancing kiss on the cheek. “Take care of yourself today.”
Adrienne stood in the hall, thoughts churning, until she heard the front door close. Drew Delaney had spent the night with her. Drew Delaney had kissed her good-bye. She thought she might be falling in love with Drew Delaney again. Good God.
“Adrienne, are you okay?”
Kit stood in front of her looking exhausted and worried. “Sure.” Adrienne realized she didn’t sound sure at all. “I’m just distracted. It was a long night. I’m worried about Lucas and Lottie. I need to pick up Skye and tell her about the shooting before she hears the news from someone else.”
“I really don’t think you should go out today considering the attack on you last night,” Kit said. “If you give me directions to the Granger house, I’ll pick up Skye.”
“Thanks, but the Grangers don’t know you.”
“Then call ahead and tell them I’ll be picking up Skye. You aren’t even dressed yet, Adrienne. I can have her back here before you’re out of the shower.”
Adrienne thought of how good hot water would feel on her sore neck and back muscles, and how much more cheerful she could look for Skye with shampooed hair and a touch of lipstick and blush. She didn’t want her daughter to be any more worried than her banishment from the house last night must have made her feel already.
“All right. I’ll call the Grangers. It’s not far and I’m sure Skye is awake. Be sure to tell her that I’m fine.”
After she’d given Kit directions, Adrienne opened the front door. Bright morning sun streamed in. “At least it’s a nice day,” she said. “I was afraid it would rain, which would make searching for Lottie even harder.”
“Not to mention her being out in the rain making her even sicker.” Kit stepped onto the porch. “Be back in a flash with your daughter.” Adrienne was closing the door when Kit leaned toward the lilac bush and asked, “What’s this?”
Adrienne opened the door again and stepped outside as Kit leaned down and picked up a manila envelope tucked under the lower branches of the bush. She held it out to Adrienne, who peered at the large, printed words on the front:
“Memories?” Kit asked blankly. “Memories of what?”
But Adrienne didn’t hear her as she opened the envelope and withdrew a photograph. Then her world shifted as she looked at a picture of her husband, Trey, lying beside a mangled motorcycle, his body contorted like a broken doll’s, his right cheekbone sticking through what was left of the shredded skin on his face, and his left arm torn loose and resting nearly a foot away from his body.
“Dear God,” Adrienne mumbled as she dropped the photo and sank slowly into an unconscious heap on the porch.