She was still clicking her mouse. “A lot.”

  “So you print your newspaper right here?”

  “Um-hm.”

  “Do other small papers do the same thing?” He’d never really considered how someone might run a business like Madeline’s.

  “Not really.” She didn’t look up. She was avoiding making eye contact with him, and he was sort of grateful. If their eyes were to meet, he might see the same naked desire staring back at him that he felt himself. And if that happened, he knew they’d put a much more satisfying finish on what they’d begun out in that field.

  “These days, most of them contract with printing houses,” she added.

  “Why don’t you do that?”

  “I might have to resort to it eventually, but there isn’t one nearby. And it’s tough to get a house to take on a paper like mine. They prefer bigger jobs.”

  “Because of the money?”

  “Money and logistics. I only print 2500 papers a week.”

  “If you could find an outside company, wouldn’t it be cheaper?”

  She glanced over her shoulder but her attention was fleeting and perfunctory. “I was fortunate. I found that printer at a government auction in Jackson.”

  “How’d you know it worked?”

  “I didn’t. But I knew Clay could fix just about anything.”

  The depth of her admiration for her brother annoyed Hunter, too, although it made no sense. He’d never been particularly possessive.

  What was the matter with him?

  He wandered to the back corner of the office, where she had a counter with a sink, a microwave and a minifridge. “Can I have a drink?” he asked.

  “There should be some bottled water.”

  He opened the refrigerator and helped himself.

  “It looks like your first available flight is tomorrow morning,” she called.

  Was that disappointment in her voice? He twisted off the cap. “That’s fine. I’ll stay at the motel tonight.” He had to remove himself from her house…

  “Okay,” she said. With him gone, she could go back to believing Clay wasn’t involved in her father’s disappearance, that there was no chance her father had owned the suitcase in the Cadillac. And maybe she could forget what had just occurred in the field.

  No doubt she found all that denial very appealing. Hunter found it appealing, too, because he couldn’t bear the thought that she might feel guilty and miserable over what they’d done.

  He came up behind her as she stood. “You’re going to be okay, right?”

  She tensed, as if uneasy with his close proximity. “I don’t know.”

  “It happened. It’s over. Please don’t worry about it.”

  “I still can’t believe I did that,” she murmured.

  “It was understandable under the circumstances. Forget it.”

  Her eyes rose to meet his, then dropped to his mouth. “I’m not sure I can forget.”

  His heart started to pound again. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “All I want to do is remember.”

  He tilted up her chin with one finger. “What are you doing to me?” he asked and bent his head to kiss her, but the bell over the door jingled before their lips could touch. Letting his hand fall, he looked up to see Kirk standing at the entrance.

  Madeline made no startled gasp, but Hunter could sense her distress. “Kirk,” she said. “I—I wasn’t expecting you.”

  Her ex-boyfriend regarded her with utter contempt. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “No, I—” she self-consciously smoothed the skirt Hunter had lifted less than an hour earlier “—wh-what do you need?”

  “I just came by to tell you to listen to your damn messages,” he said and stalked out.

  Madeline covered her face as the door banged shut and the jingling died away. “The whole world’s gone insane,” he heard her whisper.

  He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to be the cause of any more anguish. And yet they couldn’t seem to stop, or even slow, whatever was going on between them.

  “What should I do?” she asked, finally lowering her hands.

  He wasn’t sure if she was talking about him or the case. He couldn’t tell her what to do about the powerful attraction between them. He didn’t know himself. But he knew what he’d do about the past. “I think you have only one good option,” he said.

  “What’s that?”

  He resisted the urge to take her in his arms. “Gut it out.”

  “You said I should let it go.” Her words were barely a whisper.

  “I was wrong. You’ve already come too far, Maddy. You’ve got to see it through or the doubt will eat you alive. It’ll destroy the relationships you’re trying so hard to protect.”

  She nodded. But when she looked up, her eyes glittered with challenge. “Does that mean you’ll stay? Are you willing to see it through with me?”

  Was he? Every time he thought of his ex-wife he felt such intense anger he could scarcely function. Alcohol was the only thing that deadened the sensation, and he couldn’t have it. He spent his life in a constant tug-of-war between the anger and the craving. And yet, somehow, a third craving had managed to distract him. Was it another mistake?

  “If we do it on my terms,” he said at last.

  “What’re your terms?”

  “I stay at the motel.”

  “That won’t help as much as you think it will. We’ll still be together a lot. You’ll have to work fast.” She didn’t wait for him to question that comment or respond. Turning away, she hit the play button on her answering machine.

  “Madeline, little Brittany’s going to be starring in The Wizard of Oz at the school. Any chance you might like to do a story on her big debut? Give me a call…”

  “Is that what the news is like here?” he asked, putting some distance between them.

  She smiled nostalgically as she jotted down the number. “Yes. That’s what I’ve always loved about this town.”

  The next message began. “Madeline, this is Mom. Why aren’t you answering your cell? I’ve been trying to reach you all day. Please tell me you’re not parading that private investigator all over town. Clay and Grace have been through enough. I couldn’t take it if Clay was put back in jail…”

  Gut it out. With a visible wince, Madeline hit the fast-forward button, then straightened.

  “Madeline,” a deep voice rasped.

  Hunter froze. “Who’s that?”

  She shook her head in apparent confusion.

  “Mad-dy?” the voice went on. “It’s your dad-dy.”

  “It’s a crank call,” Hunter said. But the blood had already drained from Madeline’s face, and the message held them both riveted.

  “I’m coming back, baby. I’m finally coming back. How did you like my pantie collection? Grace’s always smelled the best.” He groaned in sexual rapture. “She was so tight. But they all are at that age. That’s why I love ‘em. They’re hot and tight and know how to obey—especially when they wear a collar.” There was a pause. “Spread your legs for me, okay, baby? You’re the one I wanted all along.”

  There was a click as the caller hung up. Hunter stopped the playback, but before he could say or do anything more, Madeline ran for the bathroom. After the door slammed shut, he heard her retch.

  “What’s he like?”

  Before Clay could answer his mother, Allie turned from the kitchen sink where she was doing dishes and angled her head toward the living room. “You’d better check on Whitney, don’t you think?” she said softly.

  Nodding, he walked to the entrance of the living room to find his stepdaughter fully absorbed in the Disney movie he’d rented for her—and was relieved to know she wasn’t listening to their conversation. Irene had shown up shortly after lunch, as frantic as she always seemed to be these days. But this time Clay couldn’t blame her. He was feeling more than a little nervous himself. He’d endured a lot in the past two decades, but he’d always been able to count on Madeline’s unwavering support. As long as Barker’s own daughter insisted Clay was innocent, he had a fighting chance of beating any charges the police brought against him.

  But it was possible that this private detective could change her mind. Beneath Hunter’s tanned face and movie-star smile, he had a keen intellect and plenty of confidence. Clay knew he was no longer dealing with a small-time police force that was completely inexperienced when it came to a murder investigation.

  “She okay?” Allie asked as he walked back into the kitchen.

  “She’s fine.”

  “Clay?” his mother said, growing impatient.

  “Solozano’s nothing to worry about,” he lied.

  Irene’s fearful eyes fastened on his. “Are you sure?”

  She wanted to believe him. If only he could convince her. “I’m sure.”

  “But he could expose everything.”

  “He won’t.” They had to get his mother to settle down—before she aroused even more suspicion and curiosity than normal. She was the weak link. If Hunter was as good as Clay suspected, it wouldn’t take him long to figure that out and exploit it.

  “How do you know?” Irene cried.

  Clay pulled out a chair and slouched into it. In the beginning, his mother had been determined, smart and strong. But the years and the stress had taken a toll. He didn’t like seeing how she’d changed, how what had happened had worn her out, weakened her. A person could run scared for only so long.

  But she couldn’t unravel now. They’d taken their stand and had to persevere.

  “Mom, Madeline came to me for a loan a little over a year ago,” he said, leaning an elbow on the table.

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “It means she doesn’t have a lot of money. And this guy Solozano can’t be cheap.”

  “So?”

  “So she’ll have to send him packing before he’s had time to do anything.” He’d poured more confidence into those words than he actually felt. If Madeline was as certain of Hunter’s ability as Clay was, she’d be loath to let him go. But he wasn’t about to admit that to his mother.

  “She hasn’t returned my calls in the past few days,” Irene wailed. “Why? She’s never done that before. Do you think she suspects?”

  Allie warned her to keep her voice down, and Clay checked on Whitney again.

  This time his stepdaughter turned when she heard the creak of the floorboards and smiled brightly at him. “Hi, Daddy. Want to watch the rest of Madagascar with me?”

  “After Grandma leaves, okay?” he said.

  She nodded and immediately returned her attention to the television while he walked back into the kitchen. “Madeline feels guilty for bringing him here in the first place,” he said, his voice a low murmur. “That’s why she hasn’t called.”

  “She should feel guilty. Think what this could do to us!”

  Exchanging a concerned glance with his wife, he sat down and took her hands. “Mom, you have to listen to me.”

  “What?”

  “Calm down, okay? You’re too worked up. We’ll get through this the way we’ve gotten through everything else—by keeping our wits about us.”

  “But it won’t end,” she said. “It just goes on and on and on.”

  “Daddy?” Whitney called.

  Clay sat up straight. “What, baby?”

  “Is Grandma crying?”

  “No, honey. She’s just worried about—”

  “The eye guy?” Whitney broke in.

  “The eye guy?” he repeated to Allie.

  Allie frowned. “P.I.?”

  With a sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose. Whitney had heard about the discovery of the Cadillac at school and had already asked him about the man the other kids were saying he “killed.” He’d convinced her it was all untrue. But if this got away from him, she might see her new stepfather go to jail…

  “Grandma’s been hearing some of the rumors you were told at school, that’s all,” he said.

  “Oh. Don’t worry, Grandma,” she called. “Daddy wouldn’t hurt anybody.”

  Clay exchanged another look with Allie, then lowered his voice even more. “You can’t come over here again when you’re this upset, okay?” he said to his mother. “If you need to talk, call me.”

  “No one’s willing to listen,” his mother said as tears filled her eyes.

  “Pull yourself together!”

  At the steel in his voice, his mother stood.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “Home.”

  “Don’t do anything stupid,” he warned. “Don’t do anything at all.”

  “But I can’t take it anymore!” she burst out.

  “You have to.” Clay took her by the shoulders and forced her to focus on him. “We don’t have any choice.”

  Madeline sat on the visitor’s side of her own desk. Hunter leaned against the wall closest to her. And Kirk stood at the window, staring moodily out at the street. Pontiff had called him as soon as Madeline said he’d told her to listen to her messages. The police chief wanted to know why Kirk had been so interested.

  Madeline was pretty sure her ex-boyfriend had nothing to do with the message. Still, it was difficult having Hunter and Kirk in the same room. And she couldn’t stomach the constant repetition of those grating words on her answering machine. Chief Pontiff was playing the sickening message over and over again in hopes of recognizing the voice or isolating some irregularity of speech that might give the caller away.

  “Maybe you should go home,” Hunter said to her, his manner gentle. “I’ll deal with this and have Chief Pontiff drop me by your place later.”

  “You’ll deal with this?” Kirk cried. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

  Hunter shoved off from the wall to face him. “Can’t you see what this is doing to her?”

  Madeline squeezed her eyes shut. “Stop it! I’m not going anywhere.” She felt weak and clammy, but she wanted to know who’d left that message. And she kept thinking that maybe, if she listened one more time, she’d be able to compensate for the voice distortion and come up with a name.

  “So you have no idea who this is?” Pontiff finally stopped the recorder and pinned Kirk with a meaningful stare.

  “Of course I don’t!” Kirk nearly shouted. “Toby, you know me. Why would I be behind something like this?”

  “We’ve all heard about the break-up, Kirk. Maybe you’re angry and looking for a target.”

  “I wouldn’t hurt her,” he said. “I’d never hurt her.”

  “So why’d you tell her to listen to her messages?”

  “Not because I knew about this.” He threw up an impatient hand. “Her mother had just called me and said she hadn’t been able to reach Maddy all day. I saw the car parked out front, so I stopped by to let her know. That’s all.”

  Madeline believed he’d also stopped by hoping they’d have a chance to talk after their confrontation that morning. They’d been friends for years, so the animosity between them felt unnatural. But then he’d found Hunter about to kiss her…

  “Why aren’t you asking him who it is?” Kirk asked, motioning to Hunter. “He’s the one who’s supposed to be solving the mystery, right?”

  Hunter didn’t bother to respond. He merely folded his arms and regarded Kirk dispassionately.

  “I don’t need him,” Pontiff said. “I can handle my own work.”

  The chief didn’t seem to be handling it very well. According to what he’d said when he first arrived, he still didn’t know whose panties had been found in the trunk, despite Madeline’s offer of a reward.

  But someone had to know where they came from and how they got where they were…

  “I’m taking this tape,” Pontiff announced, acting more self-important than he would have if Hunter hadn’t been in the room. “It’s worth keeping, just in case.”

  “Just in case,” Madeline repeated, chuckling bitterly.

  “What?” he said.

  She didn’t respond. He wouldn’t like what she had to say. The answer—the resolution for which she hoped and prayed—never came to pass. All she did was wait. She’d been waiting for almost twenty years.

  Hunter, seeming to understand her frame of mind, interceded. “Give us a call if you find anything,” he said, showing Pontiff to the door.

  Once Toby had left, they were alone with Kirk. He eyed Hunter, then looked at her and made a startling announcement. “I’m taking that ski trip, Maddy.”

  Madeline gaped at him. “By yourself?”

  “Why not? It isn’t like you’re going to change your mind about going with me. And I’m not planning to stick around to watch what I saw earlier.”

  She couldn’t deal with this. Not now. “I’m sorry, Kirk. I never meant to hurt you. You know that, don’t you?”

  She thought anger and jealousy might tempt him to contradict her or blame her but, after a moment, he seemed to become once again the man she’d always known. “Yeah. It’s just…too bad it didn’t work out.”

  It was too bad. Her life would’ve been so much simpler if she could’ve thrown her whole heart into their relationship. But she’d always felt torn about Kirk and not completely committed. “You’ve been good to me,” she said sadly.

  He jammed a hand through his hair. “Hearing you say that hurts worst of all.”

  She frowned. “Why?”

  He started toward the door. “Because that tells me it’s really over.” Pausing at the exit, he added, “But you’re a fool if you get involved with him.”

  If? Madeline was already involved with Hunter.

  When she didn’t answer, couldn’t answer, Kirk walked out.

  She sat perfectly still, waiting for the customary panic to set in. She was really letting him go. After five years, this was it. The end.

  But she didn’t feel the urge to run after him. And that was scariest of all. Because there could be only one reason.

  Hunter Solozano.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Madeline sat with Hunter in a corner booth at Two Sisters, with her back to the door. Two Sisters did more breakfast and lunch business than dinner, but this was Friday and at six-thirty it was fairly crowded.