Page 77 of Eclipse Bay

“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.”

“Us? You mean someone doesn’t like the idea that we’re—” She broke off and made another run at it. “Someone doesn’t like the rumors that are going around about us? But why on earth would anyone care if we’re, uh—”

“Sleeping together?” he offered helpfully.

“One time,” she said swiftly. “There was only one time. That does not exactly constitute a flaming affair.”

For some reason he found that observation both extremely irritating and strangely depressing. “Can’t argue that.”

She sipped her cocoa for a moment, then put the mug down. “I just had a thought. Maybe whoever did this is one of your old flames. A jealous lover from your misspent past?”

“Doubt it.”

She was undeterred. “Good grief. If I’m right, we’ve got more suspects than we can count.”

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