Dawn in Eclipse Bay

by Jayne Ann Krentz

“When I saw you two together that night at the old Buckley place I knew that I had no chance of ever resuming my relationship with him. You can offer him something I can’t.”

  Lillian felt her insides tighten. “I suppose you mean Harte Investments?”

  “I’m sure it’s not just the company,” Marilyn said. “He probably finds you attractive, too.”

  “Gosh. You really think so?”

  Marilyn sighed. “You want to know a little secret? I used to blame your family and Harte Investments for the breakup of my relationship with Gabe.”

  Lillian stilled. “I see.”

  “A part of me will always wonder what would have happened if he hadn’t been so obsessed with competing with you Hartes. Who knows? Maybe he and I could have had something lasting together.”

  Enough with the sisterhood thing, Lillian thought. She had done her politically correct duty. She straightened away from the counter.

  “If you don’t mind, I have a lot of things to do this morning, Marilyn.”

  Marilyn regarded her with an apologetic expression. “Yes, of course. Forgive me. I didn’t mean to get into old history.”

  “Didn’t you?”

  “No. I just wanted to talk to someone.” Marilyn blinked rapidly and wiped moisture away from the corner of her eye with a fingertip. “Things have been a little rough lately, what with the divorce and getting my campaign organized and now finding out that my campaign manager had an affair with Trevor.”

  Lillian hesitated. “You’ve been under a lot of stress. Maybe you need to take some time off. Go somewhere quiet and relax before you start your big push for office.”

  “I can’t afford to take that kind of time. Not at this juncture.” Marilyn squared her shoulders. “I intend to go to Washington, D.C., one of these days, so I’d better get used to dealing with stress, hadn’t I? But I shouldn’t have come here. It wasn’t fair to you.”

  “Forget it. That’s certainly what I intend to do.” Lillian went past her and opened the front door. “Good luck in the campaign, Marilyn.”

  “Thank you.” Marilyn walked out onto the porch and went down the steps to the Mercedes. She paused just before getting behind the wheel. “I hope you’ll vote for me.”

  Lillian watched her drive away and then slowly closed the door. She walked to the table, picked up her mug and carried it into the second bedroom. She looked at the blank canvas propped on the easel.

  For a long time she sipped tea and contemplated the empty white space, trying to get back into that alternate reality where she stood within the vision. But it was hopeless. Too many real-world thoughts barred the way.

  “. . . You want to know a secret? I used to blame your family and Harte Investments for the breakup of my relationship with Gabe.”

  After a while she gave up trying to get into the zone. She went into the kitchen and took a bottle of wine and some cheese out of the refrigerator. She put both into a paper sack.

  She went upstairs to her bedroom, opened a drawer, selected a nightgown and a change of underwear, and put them into a leather tote. In the bathroom she quickly packed the basics into a small, zippered case and dropped the case into the tote.

  Carrying the tote in one hand, she went back downstairs, collected the sack with the wine and cheese inside and a jacket. She left the cottage through the mudroom door.

  Outside she was met with a brisk, bracing wind and the roar of the surf down in Dead Hand Cove. The day was already darkening into night.

  She walked across the top of the bluffs to the old Buckley place.

  Gabe opened the back door just as she raised her hand to knock. He looked at the bulging tote bag.

  “Looks like you plan to stay awhile.”

  “Thought I’d spend the night if it’s okay with you.”

  He smiled slowly, emerald eyes warm and sensual.

  “Oh, yeah,” he said.

  She walked into the kitchen.

  “Don’t want to push my good luck but curiosity compels me to ask.” He took the tote and the sack from her. “Why the change of heart?”

  “Marilyn came to see me today. You know, it’s one thing for my mom and your grandfather to mess with my mind. They’re family. They got a right, I guess. But having your ex-girlfriend try the same trick is going too far. Got to draw the line somewhere.”

  He closed the door and looked at her. “Marilyn paid you a visit today?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Why?”

  “Among other things, she said she needed to talk to someone about the real reason she’d fired Claire.”

  “And that reason is?”

  “She thinks Claire had an affair with Trevor.”

  “She thinks that or she knows it?”

  “Let’s just say she’s convinced of it.” She unfastened her cloak. “At any rate she doesn’t trust Claire anymore. So she canned her.”

  Gabe took the cloak. It spilled from his hand in an iridescent waterfall.

  “What’s the big deal?” he said. “Marilyn is divorcing Thornley. Their relationship was obviously based on Trevor’s electability, not true love. Why worry about an affair with Claire that may or may not have happened?”

  “For heaven’s sake, Gabe. Would you want to employ someone as your close, personal assistant who had slept with your wife?”

  He didn’t miss a beat.

  “I’d destroy any man who slept with my wife.”

  The absolute finality of that statement made her catch her breath. “I see.”

  “But I’m not a politician,” Gabe continued. “Politicians are different.”

  She thought about Marilyn’s disturbed behavior. “I’m not sure that they’re so very different.”

  “Marilyn mention me?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “What did she say?”

  “What everyone else seems to be saying. Something about your interest in me probably being linked to an obsessive interest in Harte Investments.”

  He watched her with unreadable eyes. “And that observation is what made you decide to come over here this afternoon?”

  “I’m here because I want to be here.”

  “Glad to hear that. You do realize that you probably won’t get home until noon tomorrow.”

  “Not like I’m getting much work done here in Eclipse Bay, anyway.”

  chapter 15

  She did not return to the cottage until after lunch the following day, just as Gabe had warned. He walked her back across the bluffs and left her at the front door with a long, lingering kiss.

  “I know you need to paint this afternoon,” he said. “Why don’t I come over here for dinner tonight? I’ll bring the wine this time.”

  She went into the house and smiled at him through the screen. “That’ll work.”

  He raised a hand in casual farewell and went down the steps. She watched him walk away across the bluffs, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket, his dark hair ruffled by the wind. A dark squall line hung across the bay, moving swiftly toward shore.

  Memories of last night’s lovemaking ignited hot little sparklers of pleasure deep inside her. But there was something else burning down there, too, a long fuse that promised a painful explosion sometime in the future when this very adult relationship blew up in her face.

  Don’t look too far ahead. Just take it one day at a time. That’s all you can do for now. That’s all you dare to do now.

  Gabe was right. She needed to paint.

  She hung her jacket in the closet and started toward the hall that led to her makeshift studio. Halfway across the living room she noticed the light on the answering machine and changed course. She went to the table where the phone sat, and punched up the message.

  She was startled to hear Arizona Snow’s harsh whisper.

  “. . . Being tailed by an institute spy. Bastard’s too smart to get close enough for me to get a look at him but I know he’s out there somewhere, watchin’ me. I can feel him. Must’ve seen me doin’
recon and knows I’m on to the plans for the new wing.

  “I called you on accounta I don’t know Gabe’s number. I’m at a pay phone at the pier. Can’t risk leaving all the details on that machine of yours. When I leave here, I’ll head for my place and hole up there.

  “I got to talk to you and Gabe. Heard you two are shackin’ up together so if this message gets to you, I figure it’ll get to him, too. My place is the only safe house in the sector. Appreciate it if you two would come on out as soon as you can. Things are getting hot around here.

  “Gotta go. Bye.”

  There was a muffled crash on the other end of the line. Arizona had hung up in a hurry.

  Lillian glared at the answering machine. “You know,” she said to the universe at large, “I came out here to find a nice, serene place to do some painting.”

  She picked up the phone and dialed Gabe’s cell phone. He answered on the first ring.

  “Madison here.”

  She could hear the muffled sound of the wind and the surf. He was probably halfway back to the old Buckley place.

  “Doing anything important?” she asked.

  “Depends how you define important. I’m thinking about a proposal from a small startup company that needs five million in cash. That strike you as a weighty matter?”

  “Five mil? Sounds like penny-ante stuff to me.”

  “Appreciate your consulting opinion.”

  “My bill is in the mail.” She watched the dark shadow of the squall line moving across the bay. “Would you like to do something more exciting?”

  “Such as?”

  “Help defend Eclipse Bay against the spies up at the institute?”

  “Does this involve frozen extraterrestrials?”

  “Probably.”

  “Well, it’s not like I’ve got anything else to do now that you’ve taken all the fun out of my puny little five-mil deal. I’m almost back to the house. I’ll get my car and come pick you up.”

  The squall struck just as he geared down to take the steep, rutted path that led through the woods to Arizona’s cabin. He did not want to think about what the rough road was doing to the Jag’s expensive alignment.

  “She said she was being followed?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Did she give you a description?”

  “No.” Lillian watched the narrow road. “Just said she thought it was an institute spy. But she sounded nervous, Gabe. That’s what worried me. In all the years I’ve known A.Z. she’s always seemed very cool and somehow in full command of her crazy conspiracy theories. I’ve never heard her sound genuinely scared or even uneasy.”

  “Maybe she’s slipped another cog. Sunk a little deeper into her fantasy world.”

  “Gone from being seriously eccentric to seriously crazy, you think?”

  “It’s a possibility.”

  Lillian folded her arms tightly beneath her breasts. Her body was tense. She was concerned and she appeared to be getting more so as they got closer to Arizona’s cabin.

  “Take it easy, we both know there’s nothing really wrong here,” he said.

  “It’s A.Z’s state of mind I’m worried about. I wonder if getting involved with that crowd at the bakery is responsible for pushing her over some psychological edge.”

  “If she has cracked up big-time,” he said, “you’re right. We’ve got a big problem on our hands. I doubt if we’ll be able to talk her into checking into some nice quiet psych ward for observation.”

  “She’d never trust a psychiatrist or a sanitarium.”

  “Probably not.” He negotiated another sharp bend in the road. “There’s not much you can do for someone who won’t go for help unless she is a clear danger to herself or others.”

  “Let’s try to keep some perspective here. We’re talking as if A.Z. has gone off the deep end. We have no evidence of that yet. Keep in mind that she hasn’t ever hurt anyone in her life.”

  “That we know of.”

  She shot him a swift, searching glance. “What do you mean?”

  “Just that no one around here knows anything about her past before she showed up in Eclipse Bay. I remember asking Mitchell about her once when I was in high school. He just shrugged and said that she was entitled to her privacy so long as she didn’t do anyone else any harm.”

  “That’s the whole point,” Lillian said. “To the best of our knowledge or anyone else’s she’s never done any damage to people or property.”

  He navigated the last tight curve in the road and saw the cabin. Rain and wind slashed the heavy limbs of the trees that loomed over the weather-beaten structure. Arizona’s ancient truck was parked in the small clearing.

  He eased the Jag to a halt behind the truck and switched off the engine.

  “Well, at least she’s here and not out prowling around the new wing of the institute with her VPX 5000,” he said.

  He unfastened his seat belt and reached into the back seat for Lillian’s rain cloak and his jacket.

  “She said something about holing up for a while.” Lillian put her arms into the sleeves of her cloak and pulled the hood up over her head. “That’s not like her, either, when you stop and think about it. She’s always out doing recon and surveillance. Says she likes the bad guys to know she’s keeping an eye on them.”

  “True.”

  He shrugged into the jacket, tugged the hood up over his head and opened the door. Rain driven by rough winds dampened his hair when he got out.

  Lillian did not wait for him to come around to her side of the car. She already had her own door open. A few seconds later she joined him at the front of the Jag.

  They both went quickly toward the shelter of the porch. Gabe took the steps two at a time and came to a halt at the front door. Dripping rain from her sparkling cloak, Lillian stopped beside him.

  There was no doorbell. Gabe banged the brass eagle knocker a few times.

  There was no response. No surprise, he thought. No right-thinking paranoid would open a door without verifying the identity of the person on the other side.

  “A.Z.? Gabe and Lillian out here,” he called.

  The door did not open. He glanced at the nearest window. It was covered with what looked like blinds fashioned from metal slats.

  “I got your message.” Lillian rapped her knuckles on the blank window. “Are you okay in there?”

  The wind-driven rain whipped around the cabin. He knew Lillian was getting more agitated. He had to admit that the utter silence from inside the cabin was starting to bother him, too.

  He tried the heavy, steel-braced screen door. It was locked.

  “She’s not a young woman,” Lillian said. “I hope something hasn’t happened.”

  “Like what?”

  “A heart attack or stroke. Or maybe she fell.”

  “Calm down. I’m sure she’s fine. Probably locked in her war room and can’t hear us.”

  “Let’s try the back door.” Lillian turned and disappeared around the corner of the porch.

  “Hang on, not so fast, damn it.” He went after her, moving quickly. “The woman’s a full-blown conspiracy theorist, remember? Paranoid as hell. No telling how she’s got this place booby-trapped.”

  “I just want to see if I can find a window that isn’t covered with those steel blinds. I don’t understand why she isn’t—”

  She broke off on a strangled gasp. He saw the crumpled body lying on the porch at the same time.

  “A.Z.” Lillian rushed forward. “Oh, my God, Gabe, I was afraid of this. She’s had a heart attack.”

  She went to her knees beside Arizona, feeling for a pulse at the throat.

  He looked at the blood on the wooden boards beneath Arizona’s head and went cold.

  “Not a heart attack.” The cell phone was in his hand. He didn’t remember taking it out of his pocket. He punched in the emergency number.

  Lillian followed his gaze. “You’re right. It wasn’t her heart. She fell and hit her head.” Her fi
ngers moved gently on Arizona’s throat. “She’s breathing but she’s unconscious. The bleeding doesn’t seem to be too bad.”

  “Better not move her.”

  Lillian nodded. She stripped off her cloak and arranged it snugly around Arizona’s chunky frame while he gave a terse account of the situation to the 911 operator.

  He saw the overturned plant stand lying nearby just as he ended the call. The stand was made of wrought iron.

  Lillian bent intently over A.Z. “Arizona? It’s me, Lillian. Help is on the way. You’re going to be okay. Can you hear me?”

  Arizona groaned. Her lashes fluttered. She squinted up at Lillian.

  “What happened?” she mumbled.

  “It looks like you slipped and fell. How do you feel?”

  “Bad.”

  “I’ll bet you do,” Lillian said gently. “But you’re going to be okay.

  Arizona closed her eyes again. She mumbled something.

  “What did you say?” Lillian asked.

  “Said I didn’t fall.”

  “You probably don’t remember much,” Lillian said soothingly. “I think that’s pretty normal when you’ve had a blow to the head. Don’t worry about it.”

  Arizona’s hand moved a little in a small, agitated gesture, but she did not speak again.

  Lillian looked up and saw Gabe watching her. She frowned.

  “What?”

  “I don’t think she fell, either,” he said.

  “Why in the world do you say that?”

  “I’m no cop, but it looks to me like someone used that plant stand to hit her on the back of the head.”

  chapter 16

  They were standing in the busy hallway outside Arizona’s hospital room. Monitors beeped and pinged. Lights winked on computer screens. High-tech equipment gleamed. Eclipse Bay Community Hospital had moved with the times, Gabe thought.

  He noticed that everyone around him who wore a name tag and a stethoscope appeared purposeful and competent and a little high on adrenaline. Those who were not decked out with a name tag and a stethoscope looked worried. Civilians, Gabe thought. He and Lillian fit into that category. Definitely worried.

  Sean Valentine, Eclipse Bay’s chief of police, on the other hand, fell into some middle zone. He had the same purposeful, competent air that marked the members of the hospital staff, but he didn’t look as if he were enjoying an adrenaline rush. There were deep lines around his eyes and mouth. The marks weren’t caused by Arizona’s problems. Sean always looked as if he anticipated the worst. Gabe figured the permanently etched expression was a legacy of his days as a big-city cop in Seattle.