“It’s what I didn’t find.” Mitchell waved a hand at three open drawers. “There’s nothing in here. Cleaned out.”
“Are you sure?”
“Have a look for yourself.”
Rafe went to the closet and yanked it open. Three shirts hung limply in the far corner. A pair of worn slippers sat on the floor. The rest of the space was empty. The door of a small safe built into the closet wall hung open. There was nothing inside,
“Looks like he packed up and left.” Mitchell hooked his thumbs on his belt. “Maybe he figured out we’re on to him.”
“How could he have known?”
Mitchell shrugged. “Small town. He might have seen Arizona’s truck parked at Dreamscape this afternoon. Wouldn’t take much for him to put two and two together. He’s got to know you’re one of the few people who takes her seriously. Maybe he figured out that she was helping you look into the Sadler girl’s death. Wouldn’t be a real big leap for him.”
“No.” Rafe thought about it. “Not if he was already paranoid about that possibility. Maybe he planned for the possibility that someone would come around asking questions someday.”
“One thing’s for certain.” Mitchell turned toward the open wall safe. “If Steadman has cleared out for good, you can bet he didn’t leave those tapes behind for us to find.”
Chapter 23
Rafe was brooding again. Hannah tolerated it as long as she could stand it, but by ten o’clock that evening she was starting to climb the walls. She tracked her quarry down in the solarium, where he was sitting in the shadows. He had one hand on Winston’s neck, rubbing the dog absently behind the ears.
“I vote we all take Winston for his evening walk on the beach,” Hannah said from the doorway.
At the sound of his name included in the same sentence as the word “walk,” Winston moved smartly out from under Rafe’s hand and bounced toward the door.
Rafe’s hand paused in midair over the place where Winston’s ears had been a second earlier. “It’s dark, in case you haven’t noticed.”
Hannah lounged in the doorway, arms folded. “There’s no fog. The moon is out. All we need is a flashlight.”
“It’s late.”
She looked at the back of his head. “Just a little past ten. The first time you and I walked on the beach it was after midnight.”
There was a short, stark silence. Without another word, Rafe levered himself up out of the lounger.
They went out of the big house through the French doors that opened onto the lower veranda. Rafe clicked on the flashlight, but Winston ignored the beam. He bounded ahead, zipping down the steps and heading toward the shadowy beach path with the ease of a creature who relies on a variety of senses to get around.
Rafe and Hannah followed in the dog’s wake.
The evening was cool but not cold. The bay was a dark mirror beneath the icy white moon. A swath of silver streaked the surface of the deceptively still water. In the distance the lights of the pier and the streets of the small downtown section of Eclipse Bay glittered. Hannah could see the glow of Chamberlain College and the institute on the hillside.
Everything about the night brought back memories of her first walk on the beach with Rafe. She wondered if he was remembering that same evening and if so, what he thought about it.
When they reached the sand they followed Winston toward the rocky pools uncovered by the low tide.
“This is about Jed Steadman, isn’t it?” Hannah asked after a while. “I know it must have been hard for you to discover that he may have been the one who murdered Kaitlin. He was your friend, after all.”
“Jed was just a guy I knew a long time ago,” Rafe said distantly. “Someone I could shoot a game of pool with on a dull night.”
She peered at him. “I thought you two were quite close in the old days.”
“I hardly thought about him in the past eight years, let alone picked up the phone to call him. And he sure as hell never bothered to get in touch with me. We weren’t buddies. Just a couple of guys who did some stuff together on long summer weekends because we had one big thing in common.”
“What was the big thing? Kaitlin Sadler?”
“No. The big thing was that neither of us had a father anywhere in the picture.”
Hannah shoved her hands into the pockets of her sweater jacket. “I can see where that would have been a bond of sorts.”
“I envied him a little, if you want to know the truth. I always figured he was the lucky one. He seemed like he knew what he was doing. Had a plan for his future. Knew where he was going. The kind of guy who wouldn’t screw up.”
Halfway down the beach, Winston paused to investigate a hunk of driftwood. Rafe aimed the flashlight at him and then let the light slide away toward the foam at the water’s edge.
“I was wrong about Jed, you know,” Rafe said after a while.
“What do you mean?”
“He wasn’t the lucky one. I was. I had Mitchell after my parents were killed. Gabe and I both had him. I went off track for a while, but at least I knew there was a track, thanks to him.”
Hannah nodded. “I understand.”
“I don’t think there was ever anyone there for Jed. His father drank a lot, and one day he just disappeared. His mother remarried two or three times.”
“Hmm,” Hannah said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Let’s not go too far into let’s-feel-sorry-for-poor-Jed-who-came-from-a-dysfunctional-family territory. I’m sure it’s all true, but I can’t believe that he didn’t know a few of the rules. The night he murdered Kaitlin Sadler in order to get his hands on those blackmail tapes he broke those rules. I’m sure he was well aware of what he was doing.”
“You know, Hannah, that’s one of the things I like about you.” For the first time that evening there was a trace of wry amusement in Rafe’s words. “I can always count on you to cut right to the heart of the matter.”
Hannah sighed. “All right, if you’re not brooding because of Jed, do you mind telling me why you’ve been in such a foul mood all evening?”
“I’ve been thinking.”
“No offense, but I’m not sure it’s good for you.”
“I appreciate the positive feedback.”
“Okay, okay. I don’t want to argue.”
“But you’re so good at it.”
