He’d done a lot of thinking while he stirred the hot chocolate and waited for Hannah to come back downstairs. He’d even managed to reach a few conclusions. He was calm and cool again, he told himself. He was back in control.
“Sit down,” he instructed. “I’ll pour you a cup of this stuff. Winston has already had his treat.”
She looked at Winston, who was flopped under the table. Rafe had dried him off and fluffed his fur with some of the old towels in the mudroom. He looked none the worse for his ordeal. In typical dog fashion, he appeared to have forgotten the entire experience.
The same could not be said of Hannah, Rafe thought.
“I still can’t believe that that twit at the police station actually said they could not spare an officer to investigate what happened to Winston tonight.” She dropped into a chair at the kitchen table. “The woman acted as if I had phoned in a complaint about some stupid childish prank.”
“Try not to take it personally.” Rafe poured the cocoa into a mug and put it on the table. “This is a small town, remember? There aren’t many officers on the force. The dispatcher explained that they were all busy out at Chamberlain tonight because of the big rally.”
“I am taking it personally. Winston would have drowned if I hadn’t found him in time.”
“Maybe, but once you told the dispatcher that you and the dog were okay and that there was no sign of forced entry here at the house, you lost your status as an emergency.”
“I know, I know.” She heaved a sigh and then, frowning slightly, she sniffed. She looked down at the mug of cocoa he had put in front of her. “That smells good.”
“Drink it.”
Obediently she took a sip. “Just what the doctor ordered. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He sat down across from her. “I went back to the edge of the cliffs and looked for that cage or animal trap or whatever it was. But it’s gone.”
“Knocked off the finger by the incoming waves, no doubt.” She took another sip. “Maybe it will get washed ashore or left on the sand when the tide goes out tomorrow. I’ll watch for it. It’s the only evidence I’ve got.”
“Even if you find it, I doubt if it will prove useful. There won’t be any fingerprints left on it by the time the sea gets finished with it.”
She looked dismayed. “You’re probably right.”
Rafe glanced down at Winston. “Someone must have opened the back door and enticed him into the trap.”
“Probably wouldn’t have been too hard.” Her mouth tightened. “A nice chunk of raw steak would have gotten his attention.”
“The real question is, How did the mudroom door get unlocked?”
She pursed her lips. “I’ve been thinking about that. It’s no secret that Mom and Dad leave a spare key with a realtor here in town who looks after the place when no one in the family is using it. It’s not too much of a stretch to imagine someone stealing the key or copying it.”
He thought about it. “Maybe. But it seems like more trouble than the average kid would go to just to play a nasty prank.”
She looked at him with troubled eyes. “You think this was something more than a vicious stunt?”
He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his trousers. “If you put this incident together with the possibility that someone may have been watching your house at night on and off this past week, you’ve got the makings of a stalker scenario.”
She shuddered. “That occurred to me while I was in the shower. But it would have to be someone who had followed me from Portland, and I honestly can’t think of anyone there who is obsessive about me.”
“The ex-fiancé?”
She looked genuinely taken aback by the suggestion. Then she shook her head with grave certainty. “No, definitely not Doug. He’s not the type.”
“I’m not sure the type is always obvious.”
“Our engagement ended a year ago. Why would he start stalking me now? And why follow me here to Eclipse Bay to do it? He doesn’t know his way around this town. Whoever trapped Winston and stuck him out on that finger knows a lot about this place.”
“Good point. Got to be someone from Eclipse Bay. Someone who knew about the fingers and the tides in Dead Hand Cove. Someone who knew how to get a key to this house.”
“What are you thinking, Rafé?”
“I’m thinking Perry Decatur.”
“Perry?” She sat back, startled. “Oh, no, that’s ridiculous. Why would he do something like that?”
“To get even for the way you finessed his move to keep Brad McCallister off the faculty at the institute?”
She chewed on her lower lip for a few seconds and then shook her head again. “I suppose it’s possible. But I don’t think so. Not his style. Perry’s a conniving little twerp, but I don’t see him pulling a stunt like this.”
“Why not?”
“Well, for one thing, whoever carried that cage out to the finger had to get wet and dirty doing it. Perry isn’t the type to get wet and dirty if he can help it. Plus there was a real risk of getting caught in the act if I came home early. Perry doesn’t take risks if he can avoid them. He prefers to maneuver behind the scenes.”
Rafe was unconvinced. “I don’t know. He was plenty pissed last night.”
She exhaled heavily. “It just doesn’t feel like the kind of trick he would pull. More likely it was a local kid. A budding little sociopath who has graduated from setting fires to torturing animals.”
Rafe said nothing.
“You’ve got a problem with my logic?”
“I’m just thinking,” he said.
“I can see that. And it makes me nervous.”
“Me, thinking, makes you nervous? Why?”
“Because the last time you did some serious thinking you decided to make us partners in Dreamscape.”
“That’s different.”
“Bull.”
“It’s going to work. You’ll see, partner.”
She pointedly ignored that. “What, exactly, are you thinking about what happened tonight?”
He hesitated and then decided there was nothing to be gained by keeping silent. “I’m thinking that whatever is going on here might not be about you.”
“Not about me? That was my dog out there on the finger.”
“What I meant was it might not be about you alone.” He paused. “It might be about us.”