Elaine frowned. “She comes from an unfortunate family situation, but I never heard anyone suggest that she might be suicidal.”
Yates sipped his coffee. “There’s another possibility.”
They all looked at him expectantly.
“There may have been an argument,” Yates said quietly.
“My God,” Elaine whispered. “Are you saying she might have been pushed off the path?”
Hannah planted her hands on the table “Wait a second. Are you suggesting that Rafe Madison killed Kaitlin?”
“Could have been an accident,” Yates said. “Like I said, maybe they got into a fight.”
“But that’s crazy. Why would Rafe do such a thing?”
“Word around town is that he didn’t like the fact that she was seeing other men,” Yates said.
“Yes, but—”
Hamilton looked at her. “Rafe is trying to use you for an alibi, honey. I don’t like him dragging you into this one damn bit. But I’ll deal with that later.”
“Dad, listen to me—”
“Right now you just need to tell Yates where you were last night between midnight and two this morning.”
Hannah braced herself for the explosion she knew would follow. “I was with Rafe Madison.”
Kaitlin Sadler’s death was officially ruled an accident three days later. It took a lot longer for the firestorm of gossip to fade. The news that Hannah had been with Rafe Madison the night Kaitlin died swept through the small community with the force of a tsunami. Few believed for a moment that the pair had engaged only in casual conversation.
The one person who seemed genuinely happy about the fact that Rafe and Hannah had spent two whole hours together on a moonlit beach was Hannah’s great-aunt Isabel Harte.
At eighty-three, Isabel was the sole self-avowed romantic in the family. She was a retired professor of English lit who had never married. She lived alone at Dreamscape, the huge three-story mansion her father had built with the fortune he had made in fishing.
It was Isabel who had provided the seed funding for Harte-Madison, the commercial real estate development company founded by Sullivan Harte and Mitchell Madison all those years ago. The bitter feud that had destroyed the firm as well as the friendship between Sullivan and Mitchell was a source of frustration and disappointment to Isabel. She still harbored dreams of ending the rift that had shattered the partnership and ignited the hostility between the two men.
Hannah was very fond of her great-aunt. She was also well aware that her parents had been trying to get Isabel to sell Dreamscape and move into an apartment in Portland. But Isabel refused to budge.
On the fourth day of the seething rumors, Isabel sat with Elaine Harte in the Harte family kitchen.
“It’s so romantic,” Isabel said, blithely indifferent to Elaine’s exasperated expression. “Just like Romeo and Juliet.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Elaine gasped.
“Darn right,” Hannah said from the doorway. “We all know what happened to Romeo and Juliet. A very nasty ending, if you ask me.”
“This would be Romeo and Juliet with the right ending,” Isabel said, unperturbed. “A happy conclusion that would end the long-standing feud between the two families.”
Elaine raised her eyes to the heavens. “Sullivan and Mitchell are engaged in a feud, Isabel. The rest of us just ignore each other. Rafe Madison has no real interest in a nice girl like Hannah.”
“Gee, thanks, Mom.” Hannah went to the counter to pour herself a cup of coffee. “Why don’t you just label me boring and be done with it?”
Elaine gave her a repressive look. “You know perfectly well what I meant.”
“I sure do, Mom.” Hannah made a face. “And you’re absolutely right. Rafe doesn’t have any interest in me. I’m not his type.”
Isabel’s vivid blue eyes brightened with interest. “Whatever do you mean, dear?”
Hannah smiled wryly. “Rafe thinks I’m a prim, prissy, goody-goody overachiever.”
“What do you think about him?” Isabel asked quickly.
“I think he’s wasting his life. Told him so, too. The only thing we had in common the other night when we ran into each other on the beach was the fact that we both had to walk home after a bad date. Trust me, seduction was the last thing on his mind.”
“Unfortunately, almost no one in town believes that,” Elaine said grimly. “I’m told that Kaitlin Sadler’s brother believes far worse. He’s convinced that Rafe really did shove Kaitlin over that cliff and later seduced you in an effort to persuade you to cover up for him.”
“I know,” Hannah said. “Poor Dell. He’s lost his sister, and all everyone can talk about is how Rafe spent the night making wild, passionate love to me on the beach.”
Isabel’s eyes lit with speculative interest. “I don’t suppose that he actually did—?”
“No, he did not,” Hannah said brusquely. “I told you, all we did was talk.”
Elaine shook her head. “I believe you, dear. And I’m relieved to know that Rafe was nowhere near Kaitlin at the time she died. I just wish that he had found someone else to give him his alibi that night. I’m afraid it’s going to be a long time before people stop talking about this unfortunate affair.”
“Actually it’s kind of weird when you think about it,” Pamela said the next day over veggie burgers and French fries at Snow’s Café. “I mean, what are the odds that either you or I would ever spend a couple of hours on a beach with a guy like Rafe Madison?”
Hannah eyed her friend over the top of the bun. Pamela attended Chamberlain College. She had her sights set on a career teaching English literature to undergraduates. She already wore the uniform of the successful young academic: black tights, chunky black shoes, a long black skirt, a slouchy jacket, and glasses with thin frames. Her shoulder-length brown hair was held at her nape with a mock-tortoiseshell clip.
“I admit the odds are not high.” Hannah took a mouthful of her tofu burger. “It was just one of those things. I owe it all to Perry Decatur.”
Pamela made a face. “So much for your mom’s opinion of Perry. She was so sure he was the nice, upwardly mobile type.”
“He’s definitely committed to upward mobility. Probably go far in the academic world.”
“But not a nice guy, huh?”
“Smooth. Slick.” Hannah thought back to the scuffle in the front seat and shuddered. “Not nice.”
