“You think I should ignore it?” Michael studied her thoughtfully. “It sounded like a real threat. And whoever wrote those letters about Gwenda knew that her products were not the genuine article. What if I had just brushed it aside as a fake claim, coming from some spiteful competitor?”
He had a point there. Vicky thought quickly. “Well, you could go to the police. But Cash Rowland knows he’ll never catch an anonymous caller. There is nothing to identify the person. I mean, if you had seen a caller ID, you’d have looked into it yourself.”
Michael half smiled. “A smart assumption, Miss Simmons.”
Vicky also smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Danning. So you didn’t see a caller ID. The caller probably used a public phone or a prepaid cell phone.”
Michael nodded. “Right again.”
Vicky shrugged. “Nothing to trace back to him or her then. So what can you do? The obvious thing. Just tell Diane about it. Then she can decide for herself how to react.”
“How do you expect she will react? Dig even deeper. You just met her. Tell me if you believe for one moment she will back off.” Michael sounded frustrated, almost angry.
“Not likely.” Vicky pictured the look on Diane’s face, her suppressed frustration, the admittance she slept badly at night. “She thought about this long and hard before she came here, I gather. And perhaps feeling as she does, she is willing to risk it all for closure?”
Michael didn’t confirm or deny it. He stared ahead with a grim expression.
Vicky was still carrying Coco. The warmth of the dog in her arms contrasted oddly with the serious topic at hand. It was so peaceful to walk here and inhale the sea air and listen to the last birds cry overhead. Then head home for lasagna and watch the dogs snore in front of the fireplace. Not even Diane’s fragile state of mind could disturb that. She had to be grasping at straws. There couldn’t be a murderer among them.
And Michael’s words about a threat were just that: words, not a reality that touched upon their lives.
She looked for a way to convey that to him. “There are crackpots everywhere who call newspapers with information. Usually they know nothing. You’re taking it too personally. Nothing is expected of you.”
“No?” Michael walked with his hands folded at his back now, a little calmer. He stared intently ahead as if he tried to focus on a logical train of thought. “Don’t I have some obligation to find the truth?”
There was an ironic twitch around his lips. “That’s what journalists claim to do, right, find the truth? We devote our entire careers to something big and praiseworthy. But it’s simple to write about another’s life story, the truth about his pain, his past, his guilt. It’s something entirely different to go and do it for yourself.”
Vicky studied him thoughtfully. “Did Diane press you to print the interview?”
“Press me? Why?”
“Well, when I asked about it, you responded as if you didn’t like it. I just figured she had talked you into it.”
Michael frowned hard. “When Diane arrived here, she came to see me right away. She said she never believed I had anything to do with Celine’s disappearance and that she was not here to make my life hard or anything. That she was doing this purely for herself, to finally close the book and be able to return to her family like a new woman. She looked so…angry and vulnerable.”
Vicky held Coco closer. It was easy to see what was happening here. Diane looked like Celine. Michael had loved Celine. Now that Diane was in a difficult position, Michael felt he had to protect her. He had agreed to help her, against his own better judgment, because he was worried what Diane might do when he didn’t help her.
“If she had said she suspected me of involvement, I would have hated her for it and ignored her.” Michael laughed hoarsely. “Now that she’s said it was not my fault and she expected nothing of me, it made me all the more determined to dive into it and…find some answers. Stupid, huh?”
Vicky took a deep breath. She was grateful that Michael had confided in her. He probably had nobody else to turn to. She didn’t want him to be alone with his struggle. So this talk was a very good thing, between friends.
Still it was hard to decide what to say. How to prevent him from getting sucked into a whirlpool of emotions that might not lead to anything. Unless he had facts to go on. “I heard you asked Cash for the old police files.”
“Yeah.” He cast her a look as if he wanted to know how come she had talked to Cash.
But he didn’t ask. “He told me Perkins has them. I gave him a call, but his wife told me Perkins is out fishing with buddies. Won’t be back till after the weekend.”
He laughed again, disparagingly this time. “After I’ve had that much time to think it over, will I still want to read those files? I have no idea what is in them about me. Or about other people. How it will open up that whole sordid business again. Accusations without foundation. Sometimes I’m too impulsive and dive in without thinking about the consequences. It might also harm Diane.”
Vicky nodded. “Well, you two don’t have to take it up with Perkins once he is back. If you feel it was a mistake in the first place…”
Michael took a deep breath. “It should be over. But just look at me, rushing out here to watch over Diane… While she doesn’t even want me to. It’s crazy.”
He looked at her. “I’m sorry you saw me, Vicky. Please keep this to yourself.”
“Of course I will.” She was almost indignant. What did he think of her, that she was some kind of gossip who’d go spread word around Glen Cove? “I never intended to tell anybody, not even if you hadn’t explained the situation to me. And now that you have…I’m just sorry for you, Michael, that it still hurts so much.”
“It doesn’t hurt anymore like it used to. It just itches, because I don’t understand what kind of threat Celine was to anyone. Why did they have to come after her?”
He perked up, tilting his head. “Are those sirens, in the distance?”
Vicky halted to listen better. The waves roared below, there was the hum of traffic on the coastal road. “I’m not sure. Could be.”
An image flashed through her mind: Diane’s lone figure on the deserted beach, running away from her. Michael had said that someone local was threatening her…
With an effort she pushed the cold sensation away. Diane had her dog with her, a big one that was trained for protection. Nothing would happen to her.
Michael pulled out his cell phone and checked it. “If something was up, I suppose they would call me. I can still change the Gazette’s front page until midnight.”
“Sure, and I bet you work better on a full stomach. So why don’t you come along to my mother’s for a quick bite of lasagna? As soon as they call, you can leave. There’s enough for three, especially if I whip up a salad to go with it.” She was taking a risk here as Claire might display her aversion to Michael and it would be painful. But she didn’t want him to leave just yet.
Michael’s tight shoulders relaxed, and he nodded. “OK. But don’t go to any trouble for me. As long as it’s edible and hot, I’ll take it.”
As they arrived at Claire’s cottage, the scent of spicy lasagna already wafted out of the window. Vicky had opened it a crack before her walk with the dogs. As she stepped in, she tilted her head.