Page 71 of Strangers She Knows

“No. He was so apathetic, I thought he would someday melt away and leave no mark on the world.” Max glanced at their daughter.

Since Rae had returned home from her Dylan encounter, she hadn’t let her parents out of her sight. The way she sat, close to Luna, and huddled over an encyclopedia, leafing through the pages… The child was in shock.

In a lower voice, Max said, “He says he doesn’t remember anything about last night.”

“Do you think that’s true?” Kellen lowered her voice to match his. It wasn’t as if they were trying to keep secrets from Rae; more that they felt as if they were at a sickbed, and didn’t want to disturb the patient.

“If he remembers anything,” Max said, “he’s not about to admit it. Maybe he doesn’t—he keeps blacking out, then coming back to consciousness. And vomiting while he’s conscious.”

“Moonshine. Probably lead poisoning.”

“Or he ate something or smoked something that sent him mad. I have to take him to the mainland, to a hospital.”

Rae shivered, a sudden violent shudder.

Max took a throw off the couch and wrapped it around her shoulders.

Kellen was sorry about Jamie, sorry for the violence and the waste, but underneath her compassion, she blazed with anger. Dylan and Jamie had created their own icy hell, and Rae didn’t deserve to be devoured by the cold. “Call the Coast Guard. Let them come and get him.”

“I tried. There was a collision between two excursion boats in San Francisco Bay, and they’ve got a team on a drug-smuggling operation. They’re overwhelmed. As long as we’re not feeling threatened, they say keep him confined and they’ll get him as soon as they can.” Max glanced at Rae. “But he’s not staying here.”

Right now, Kellen could herself have pushed Dylan into the ocean and dusted her hands afterward. “Then go as soon as you can. But…” She moved a few steps away from Rae. “I think it’s time to bring out one of the pistols from the gun safe.”

Max picked up her right hand. The stress of the day had intensified the curl of her fingers. “Do you think you can shoot?” His question was about the effect of the atrophy, not about her skill level; she’d learned to shoot in the Army and sharpened her skills in combat.

“I can.” She met his eyes. “A pistol is a good deterrent when pointed atanybody.”At Mara, she meant, if she put in an appearance.

Max’s grim face lightened. “That would make me feel better about leaving you alone. Let me get the key. I’ll bring you the Ruger?”

“Yes. The Ruger would be good.”

He headed for Gerard Morgade’s study.

Kellen sat beside Rae and put her arm around her. A firearm would give them security during Max’s absence. She only hoped she wouldn’t have to use it; she hoped Mara was nowhere around. Surely Dylan had poisoned himself with one of his homemade brews. That made sense, didn’t it?

She smoothed Rae’s hair. But no matter what, a pistol would make her feel as if she could protect her daughter from harm.

Before Kellen expected him, Max had returned, pale and empty-handed. He gestured Kellen toward the door.

Kellen came to her feet and met him. “What’s wrong?” she asked softly.

Just as softly, he said, “The gun safe is empty.”

“What do you mean, it’s empty?” Stupid question, and too loud, but…what?

“The safe was unlocked. The door was slightly open. The guns are gone. The rifles. The pistols. Gone.” Spacing his words, he said, “The safe is empty.”

They stared at each other, trying to understand the import.

“Olympia?” Kellen asked.

“I guess. Who else? Not the Conkles. Jamie might not have approved of firearms, but she mostly avoided the house—”

“I caught her inside once. She was defensive when I confronted her about it.”

“She was always defensive, but she wasn’t a thief.” Already Max spoke of Jamie in the past tense. “Dylan might have taken them, but even if he had access to the household keys, and I don’t believe that, when he was drunk, he could find the key or fit it into the lock.”

“Right. Olympia had keys, so I suppose she could have had a key to the gun safe.” Kellen rubbed her forehead. “But why?”

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