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.
2
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 ba
ck 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.”
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