They stared at each other, mirror images of irritation and belligerence.
Derek broke first. “Drink your tea, Stacy.” He sounded tired, and the least little bit patronizing.
She flinched at the syrupy sweetness but obediently drank most of the hot liquid. The sugar went to her bloodstream almost immediately, restoring her energy, while the heat of the beverage chased away the last of the chills. She held out the mug for a refill.
“Good,” Derek said as he took the mug, “now maybe we can approach the situation logically.”
Men thrived on logic, she knew, while women put more faith in intuition. He was going to have a perfectly logical argument for what had happened, while she was going to continue to hold on to her belief that there was someone in this town who was stalking her and at the very least intended to give her one hell of a scare.
“Derek, would you consider this, maybe we’re both right. Nobody is trying to kill me. You’re probably right about that. But at least give me this, someone is trying to scare me.”
“Why?”
“To get me to leave town.”
“Why?”
“Because...because they don’t want me to find out about my parents.”
“Why?”
Exasperation replaced calm. “I don’t know! That’s what I wanted you to find out!”
She didn’t wait for his retort but threw his jacket off her shoulders and rushed back out into the fog.
* * *
PAM LIFTED THE RECEIVER on the third ring, keeping her place in the account ledger with her index finger. “Yes,” she said, after she’d exchanged greetings with her caller, “I got your message. She’s still out but when she comes in, I’ll give you a ring.”
She tapped manicured fingers on the ledger page as her caller went into a lecture reminding Pam where her loyalty belonged, how dangerous it could be for Stacy Millman to be allowed to do too much digging.
“I know all that,” Pam reminded, fighting to keep her tone respectful, always mindful of the fact that the Hunters held the mortgage on the inn.
“Well, let me just make one last reminder, Pam, you don’t own the inn free and clear yet and if you let us down, you could lose it.”
Bile rose in Pam’s throat. She could kill Stacy Millman. Her arrival in town had shaken Pam’s world right down to the foundation. And if the girl won out, despite all the effort being made to keep her in the dark, she, Pam, would be blamed for failing to fulfill her part in the plan. She could lose everything.
“Don’t worry,” she said into the mouthpiece. “She’s staying under my roof. I’m sure I can keep tabs on her.”
“See that you do.”
Pam heard the click and after a breath-held moment, she replaced her own receiver. She got up and went to the window. The fog seemed to be lifting; at least she thought she could see more of the front yard as she peered through the glass.
Where could the Millman girl have gone in this mess? The locals usually didn’t venture out in it; they knew the hazards of such limited visibility. If she’d been on her toes, she’d have been aware that the girl had left the inn before breakfast. But she only had a chef for the dinner hours, during the off-season, so she’d been in the kitchen preparing the morning meal herself when Stacy Millman had apparently gone out.
She went back to her desk and tried to concentrate on the figures in the ledger. The echoes of threat in her caller’s tone kept recurring in her head and she finally slammed the ledger cover shut and reached for a cigarette. It wasn’t only the call that was bothering her, she knew. There was also the business of seeing Millman in the bar with Derek Chancelor. It had given her a less than peaceful night, tossing, turning, wondering how they’d got so cozy so quickly.
She knew she didn’t have a right in the world to be jealous; Derek had never responded to any of the signals she’d sent his way. Even when he complimented her on her appearance, it had always been in the spirit of friendship. Maybe she’d been too laid-back, waiting for him to see her attributes and make a move. Maybe she should have out and out seduced him, shown him that their ten year age difference really didn’t matter at this stage in their lives.
It wasn’t only that Derek was the last eligible bachelor in town, it was also that she’d had a secret crush on him since he was eighteen years old and a lifeguard at the public beach. He’d asked her to put suntan lotion on his back and shoulders. At that first feel of his smooth, sun-warmed skin, his hard muscles beneath, she’d felt her stomach lurch and her blood heat with immediate lust. She had only to think of that day to remember caressing him, wanting him, willing him to feel what she was feeling.
He never had. But that didn’t mean he never would. Unless he was actually taking an interest in the Millman bitch.
Yes, she could cheerfully kill the girl. She flicked ashes and was about to take another drag when there was a knock at her door.
“Come in.” She stubbed out the cigarette and turned an expectant face to the door. Incredibly, it was the person foremost on her mind.
“Hi. I hope I’m not bothering you, Pam. I just wondered if you have a lockup policy at night.”
Pam forced a smile. “Lockup, Ms. Millman? Oh, you mean the front doors?”
“Call me Stacy, please. Yes. I wondered if your guests have a curfew or whether we get a key to the front door in case we’re in after lockup.”
Pam laughed. “This is a very small town, Stacy. We don’t lock doors here. There’s never been any need.”
And if there had been, where would Stacy Millman have to go until late at night in this burg? The only answer to that would be Derek. Fury rose in her chest, tightened her breathing.
“I never thought of that,” Stacy said, laughing at her own stupidity. “It would never occur to a New Yorker.”
Pam made herself pretend a friendly interest. “Yes, I’ve seen TV shows where New Yorkers have two or three locks on their doors.”
Stacy nodded. “I guess that’s one of the things I won’t miss while I’m here.”
“Then you plan on staying awhile?”
“You sound surprised. Is there any reason I shouldn’t?”
“Why...why, no, of course not. I did tell you, didn’t I, that my rooms fill up almost entirely the first part of June.”
“Yes, and I will let you know soon, if I plan to stay that long.” She looked around the well-appointed office, at the ashtray at Pam’s elbow, an accounts journal in front of her. She smiled. “Well, I won’t keep you from your work. I think I’ll go to my room and rest before lunch. I’ve had a pretty stressful morning.”
Despite herself, Pam expressed an interest. “Stressful? Oh, you’re probably not used to our fog, it’s quite formidable at times.”
“As a matter of fact, I had a near accident. A car came at me in the fog and almost ran me down.”
Pam didn’t have to fake surprise. “You weren’t hurt, I take it?”
“Just a little bruising from falling out of the way. But other than that, I was mostly shaken up. If Derek...uh, the sheriff...hadn’t come along and delivered hot tea and sympathy, I might have been worse off.”
Pam bit her lip. Derek again. Coming to the rescue of a damsel in distress. “Well, good for our sheriff. And I guess you’ve definitely earned that rest. Would you like me to knock at your door when lunch is ready?”
“Yes, please, I’m sure I’ll be restored by then.”
As