Madeline kept her face averted from the people sitting at the other booths and tables. They’d just finished a meal of meat loaf and mashed potatoes and were settling in for coffee and pie. But she didn’t want to see anyone she knew. She was still reeling from the events of the day. Stillwater had always seemed so safe. And yet suddenly, everyone and everything looked different.

  As a result, she felt jumpy, defensive, even a little lost. Hunter was forcing her to question everything she’d once believed.

  “You’re sure you want me to stay?” he asked.

  Was she? She was caught in the middle of some dark mystery that seemed to have no solution. If he continued to search for the truth, she’d have to accept whatever he uncovered—good or bad. And she already knew what he thought might’ve happened.

  But if he left, would she be able to pretend that nothing had changed?

  “Are you going to answer me?”

  She still longed to feel his hands on her. What they’d shared earlier wasn’t nearly enough.

  “I don’t know what to do,” she admitted, running a finger back and forth over the smooth handle of her coffee cup. Where was her confidence? Her faith in those she loved? She remembered her father sitting her down at the kitchen table to tell her that her body was a temple, that she should never let anyone defile it.

  Those were not the words of a pedophile.

  “Do you trust me?” Hunter asked softly.

  She stirred a spoonful of sugar into her coffee. “I don’t even know you.”

  “Is that what you think?”

  No. She hadn’t known him long and wasn’t familiar with the details of his personal life, but she trusted him instinctively. Or she wouldn’t have done what she’d done with him out in that field. Maybe it was because they’d skipped the usual small talk of strangers and jumped right into subjects that affected them on the deepest levels. Maybe that was why their relationship had progressed at such lightning speed. But she knew he was smart, he was a leader, he’d do a thorough job, and he wouldn’t hurt her if he could help it.

  That was a reasonable start, wasn’t it?

  “I’d like you to stay,” she said.

  “Then I should move to the motel.”

  “Because…”

  He met her gaze, and it was almost as if she could watch every detail of their earlier encounter played out in the reflection of his eyes. “Because you know what’ll happen if I don’t.”

  She was fighting so many battles at once, part of her felt it wouldn’t be so bad to concede that one. What was one torrid affair in thirty-six years?

  But the saner part of her knew she might not be capable of making the best decisions right now.

  You’re a fool if you get involved with him…

  What if her infatuation with Hunter grew? What if it turned into something more? Where would that leave her when he went home?

  “Okay.”

  The waitress came to refill their coffee. Madeline mustered a smile because she recognized the woman from church.

  “So…after hearing that message a hundred times, do you think it was Mike?” Hunter asked.

  “I don’t know. He couldn’t have gotten home and left that message before we reached the office. But he could’ve left it earlier, I suppose.”

  “I’ll drop by tomorrow, see what he has to say about it.”

  She’d made the right choice, she decided. She needed Hunter here. But, God, it was terrifying to consider what he might find…

  “We should call Clay, too,” he said. “Tell him about the message.”

  The old defensiveness instantly reared up again. “Clay would never do that to me.”

  Hunter reached across the table to squeeze her elbow. “I was just thinking he might have some ideas about who did. He certainly knows more than we do about what happened twenty years ago. Of course, whether or not he’ll tell us is another story. But he might talk if it meant keeping you safe.”

  Until today, Madeline had never felt personally threatened. “Can we talk about something else for a while?” she asked, using her fork to make little peaks in the whipped cream on her pie. She couldn’t think about her own situation anymore. If she didn’t figure it out soon, she’d be as depressed as her mother. And the mere thought of that terrified her. Never did she want to find herself so desperate.

  Hunter stretched one arm across the back of the booth. “Like what?”

  She put down her fork and pushed the rest of her pie away. “Like you.”

  He hesitated briefly, then shrugged. “What about me?”

  “How long have you been divorced?”

  “Thirteen months.”

  She’d guessed it had been recent. “So you were married for what, five or six years?”

  He pulled her pie toward him and started to finish it. His own was already gone. “Twelve.”

  That was unexpectedly high. “You got married young.”

  “I was nineteen.”

  “I thought you surfed through college.”

  He paused to take a sip of coffee, then laughed dryly. “Only in my dreams.”

  “Really?”

  “There was no time. Besides, I didn’t even have a board.”

  “You were working?”

  His cup clinked against the saucer. “At night. During the day I went to school. I was working toward a business degree until I had to drop out.”

  “What went wrong?”

  “I had to get a second job.”

  She remembered teasing him about spending his days at the beach and felt like an idiot for making such a snap judgment. It didn’t sound as if his life had been as easy as she’d envisioned. “Is that when you became a cop?”

  “No, that’s when I became a bartender. It was another two years before I decided to join the force.”

  “Did you like police work?”

  “I did. But this is better. In many ways, I do basically the same work, but I set my own hours, pick my own clients and make more money.”

  “Can’t beat that,” she said.

  “Exactly.”

  “Did you meet your wife in college, then?”

  “Sort of. She wasn’t in school. I ran into her at an off-campus party.”

  She added cream to her coffee. “If you were married nearly twelve years and you’ve been divorced for one, you must’ve been a sophomore?”

  “A freshman.”

  She whistled under her breath, feeling more like her old self. The change of subject seemed to make a difference. “Was it love at first sight?”

  He chuckled. “That depends on what you mean by love. It was definitely my first crush.”

  “What attracted you to her?”

  “She was the entertainment at the party. I’d never seen anything like it before. I was completely captivated.”

  She stirred her coffee. “She was a dancer of some sort, then?”

  He laughed again. “Of some sort. She was a stripper.”

  She held her cup halfway to her mouth. “I take it your father didn’t have Playboy lying around the house.”

  “Absolutely not. I come from a religious family with very strict parents who sent me to an all-boys’ school.”

  She took a sip, then set her cup down again. “Did you mind?”

  “Not really. When I was in high school, I was more concerned with sports than girls.”

  She liked that he was revealing more about himself. She suspected he was only doing it because he could see the distraction was helping her cope with her own problems, but she was interested all the same. “And?”

  “And then I went away to college. Suddenly Dad wasn’t there to keep a bridle on me. It was my first brush with real freedom and I was off and running for broke.” He finished her pie and stacked the two plates on the edge of the table. “Those first few months were a lot of fun. But I was naïve and made some really stupid mistakes.”

  “Like getting involved with a stripper?”

  “Antoinette was…” He frowned and shook his head. “Have you ever seen Risky Business?”

  “Several times.”

  “What we had was like Tom Cruise and Rebecca DeMornay’s relationship in that movie. She was the first girl I’d ever slept with, but she was five years older and a lot more experienced.”

  “Was she going to school, too?” Madeline asked in surprise.

  “She said she was taking a few classes at the community college, but I soon found out it wasn’t true. She just gravitated toward the preppy crowd, liked the attention and the money she made dancing.”

  “And you liked her.”

  His eyes took on a faraway look. “Yes. I was so crazy about her I was actually stupid enough to bring her home to meet my folks.”

  The waitress came around with the coffeepot. She collected the empty plates, but Madeline put up her hand to indicate she’d had plenty of coffee and Hunter did the same. “How did they like her?” Madeline asked.

  A bitter smile curved his lips. “About as much as you’d expect.”

  “They weren’t impressed.”

  “No. They told me she was trash. That I needed to get rid of her.”

  “Seems like a harsh judgment for your parents to make after just one meeting. Maybe she didn’t have a good family and had resorted to stripping because it was the only way she could earn a living.”

  “They didn’t know she was stripping. I wasn’t about to tell them that. They didn’t like her because…” He tapped a finger against the rim of his cup as if he hadn’t decided whether or not to go on.

  “What?” she prompted. “Lord knows you’re already familiar with all my dirty secrets.”

  “That you waited until you were thirty-two to make love isn’t exactly a dirty secret,” he said.

  She felt her cheeks warm. “And now there’s that…incident behind the trees.”

  His smile was crooked. “I realize you don’t really want to face what happened. But can I say one thing?”

  She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear it. “What?” she said tentatively.

  “That was amazing. You’re amazing.”

  “Stop it.” She laughed for the first time that day. “We were talking about you for a change.”

  “I was there, too.”

  She wasn’t likely to forget. She could hardly breathe just remembering. But remembering wasn’t going to make it any easier to leave him at the motel tonight.

  “Why didn’t your parents like Antoinette if they didn’t even know she was a stripper?” she asked.

  He sobered reluctantly. “She stole a piece of my mother’s jewelry. My mother called me once I returned to school, terribly upset and full of accusations. I got angry that she could even think Antoinette would do such a thing. I was sure my mother was looking for any excuse to split us up, and I said so.” His smile revealed more chagrin than anything else. “But in the end, my folks were right. I found my mother’s diamond necklace in Antoinette’s lingerie drawer three months later.”

  Madeline tucked her hair behind her ears. “That’s horrible. You must’ve felt awful.”

  “I did.”

  “And yet you married her. Didn’t the fact that she’d stolen from your mother make you doubt her character?”

  “By the time the truth came out, I’d grown up enough to understand that sex isn’t the same as love.”

  With Kirk she’d had the opposite experience. They had friendship and respect, but no sexual chemistry. Not like she’d experienced with Hunter. “So did you break up for a while?”

  “I was going to break up for good. But it was the week of finals when I finally decided I was through, and I didn’t want to say anything to Antoinette until my exams were over.”

  “Because you needed to focus on studying?”

  “No, we were living together and I wanted to finish the semester before she went crazy on me. When I tried to break up one other time, she flipped out—threatened to harm herself.”

  “I bet your parents were relieved you’d soon be rid of her.”

  “I didn’t tell them. My relationship with my parents had grown worse and worse, mostly because I was still with Antoinette. But I was stubborn enough to insist that I was an adult and should be able to see whoever I wanted.”

  “Typical male.”

  “Thanks for your support,” he said sarcastically.

  “No problem.” She smiled. “So how did you wind up marrying her? You were about to break up.”

  He cradled his cup in his hands. “I was, that very next weekend. But—” his own smile disappeared “—that was when she told me she was pregnant.”

  What a blow that must’ve been. “And marriage was your solution?” she breathed.

  “I thought it was the right thing to do.”

  “Because of your folks?”

  “No. They agreed with my decision, but I’m the one who made it.”

  She leaned closer. “Did they really think that kind of marriage would work? Did you?”

  “It was my responsibility to make it work—for the sake of my daughter.”

  “For the sake of your daughter…” She toyed with her spoon. “Were you ever happy together? You and Antoinette?”

  He fell silent for a few seconds. She could tell by the sudden tightness around his mouth that he wasn’t interested in talking about it anymore. But she was curious.

  “Hunter?” she said when it became apparent that she’d lost him to his thoughts.

  “Maria was worth any sacrifice,” he said with a shrug.

  “Maria’s your daughter?”

  He nodded.

  “Where is she now?”

  Abruptly, he stood and grabbed the check the waitress had left. “Let’s go,” he said. “Now that we know I’m staying, it’s time for me to meet Grace.”

  Madeline wasn’t any happier about taking Hunter to see Grace than she’d been about going to the farm. Especially after what he’d said at Aunt Elaine’s and at Clay’s. She was afraid he’d soon alienate her from everyone she’d always loved, and yet her feet were now set on a path from which she couldn’t deviate. There was nothing to do but march forward, and pray that her search wouldn’t cost her as much as she feared.

  Since their meeting at the police station, relations between her and Grace were already a little awkward, which didn’t make this visit any easier. Madeline had called Grace the day after they’d identified those panties, hoping to offer her love, support, condolences—anything Grace might need. But Grace had insisted she was fine, that the presence of her panties in that bag meant nothing to her.

  Nothing…Yet she’d gone stark white at the police station. And she hadn’t called Madeline since, although they usually talked several times a week.

  “This is quite a place,” Hunter said, gazing up at Grace and Kennedy’s historic mansion.

  Madeline’s eyes moved over the sweeping lawns and immaculate gardens, which looked even more perfect beneath the glow of a full moon. The lights shining warmly through the windows created an appealing effect, like the front of a Christmas card. Yet Madeline was afraid to approach. What more lay in store for her this day?

  “It’s just as pretty inside,” she said and turned off the engine. That Grace had come from one of the poorest families in town and married into one of the richest made her and Kennedy’s love affair a sort of Cinderella story. This was Grace’s castle, the nicest home in Stillwater.

  But Madeline was beginning to wonder if Grace’s childhood had been worse than anyone, including her, had ever guessed.

  “What are we waiting for?” Hunter prompted when she didn’t get out right away.

  “Nothing.” Buttoning her coat against what was becoming a blustery night, she climbed out.

  When she came around the car, Hunter stood at the end of the walkway. “Is Grace as tough as her brother?” he asked wryly.

  “In some ways.” Grace wasn’t as intimidating as Clay or Madeline’s aunt, but she could be every bit as aloof. And because Hunter would no doubt be perceived as a threat to Clay, Grace would never trust him. “Not quite so direct.”

  “But just as stubborn.” He’d obviously picked up on the cautious note in her voice.

  “Grace hides her feelings behind a cool, courteous manner.”

  “You mean she protects herself from others by remaining detached.”

  Madeline couldn’t help appreciating his perception. But that perception, that intellect she’d begun to respect, frightened her. Because respecting his opinions meant that if he came to her with the worst possible news, she’d have to believe him. “Yes. It’s a survival tactic she learned early on. Probably the result of all the judgment and censure she had to endure once my father disappeared.”

  “Is she close to Clay?”

  “She is now. Before, she wasn’t that close to any of us.”

  They didn’t have time to discuss Grace further because movement in an upstairs window told Madeline they’d been spotted.

  “Come on.” She stepped onto the wide veranda, where brown wicker furniture with green cushions waited for spring.

  The porch light went on only seconds before Grace met them at the door, holding her seven-month-old baby girl wrapped in a fuzzy blanket. She greeted Madeline with a hug, but her body felt stiff and unnatural, and her expression held more than a hint of wariness as her eyes darted to Hunter. “I wasn’t expecting you,” she said, returning her attention to Madeline. “What a nice surprise.”

  Madeline tried to bury her own apprehension—and the memory of that voice on her answering machine—in the positive feelings evoked by Isabelle. Taking the baby, she made the child laugh with a few sloppy kisses under the chin. “How’s my girl?” she asked, thinking this was as simple as life should be—for everyone. A comfortable home, a beloved sister, a laughing baby.

  “She’s doing great,” Grace replied.

  Isabelle seemed to agree. She cooed and jammed a chubby finger in her mouth while giving Madeline a drool-laden grin.

  Madeline kissed the child’s downy head, breathing deeply, trying to reassure herself that in the end all would be well. “No more cough?”