Page 91 of Eclipse Bay

Rafe flopped back in his chair. “Damn. How long have you and Bev Bolton been having an affair?”

Mitchell’s brows bunched and quivered in annoyance. “See here, my private life is none of your business.”

“Right. Sure. Your business.”

“Bev and I go back a long ways.” Mitchell paused. “A couple of years after Ed died, I asked her to marry me.”

Rafe was astounded. “No kidding? What happened?”

“Turned me down flat,” Mitchell admitted.

“I see.” Rafe said.

“As I was saying,” Mitchell went on, “Bev and I get together whenever I go to Portland.”

“I understand.” Rafe recalled the conversation with Gabe concerning Mitchell’s frequent trips to Portland. “And you’ve found a reason to go nearly every week for the past ten months.”

“What the hell business is it of yours? A man’s got a right to his personal life.”

Rafe started to smile. The smile turned into a grin before he could control it, and then, without warning, he was laughing so hard he feared he might fall off his chair.

Winston roused himself to thrust his nose inquiringly into Rafe’s hand. Rafe scratched him behind the ears and laughed even harder.

Hannah and Mitchell frowned.

“What’s so funny?” Hannah asked with a bewildered expression.

Mitchell glowered. “If there’s a joke here, you’d better share it.”

“The joke is on Gabe and me,” Rafe said, subduing the laughter to a wide grin. “We thought all those trips to Portland you’ve been taking for the past year were to get medical treatment. We were afraid you had some terrible, lingering disease you were hiding from us.”

“Huh.” Mitchell blinked, and then his eyes gleamed with secret amusement. “One of those trips last year was to see a doctor. But it wasn’t because I had come down with anything serious.”

“Just a checkup?” Rafe asked.

“You might say that,” Mitchell said with a benign smile. “Happy to tell you that everything is in pretty fair working order, considering the mileage I’ve put on this body.”

“Glad to hear it.” Rafe realized he felt a lot lighter.

“Unless you do me in with your cooking,” Mitchell said, “Dr. Reed tells me I’m likely to be around to pester the rest of you for quite a while yet. Now, then, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, I was planning to go to Portland at the end of the week. No reason I can’t drive in with Bryce in the morning instead.”

Bryce arrived to collect Mitchell shortly after ten that night. Hannah stood on the front porch with Rafe and Winston, her arms folded, and watched the big SUV lumber off down the drive. It turned left onto the road, and the headlights disappeared into the night.

She braced herself. She had managed to relax midway through the meal, and later when the conversation had turned to the subject of Kaitlin Sadler’s death, she had almost forgotten the awkward moments she’d experienced earlier in the evening. But now that she was alone again with Rafe, she could feel the uneasiness stealing back over her.

The unsettling question returned in a rush. Just how much had Rafe overheard of Mitchell’s vow to make his grandson do right by her?

“Well, I’d call the evening a resounding success,” she said briskly. She turned away and walked back toward the open front door. “Mitchell liked your cooking, and he seems genuinely interested in helping us figure out what’s going on around here. Can’t ask for more than that.”

“As a matter of fact,” Rafe said, “there is one more thing.”

“You want help with the dishes?” She paused in the doorway. “No problem.”

He leaned against the railing and studied her in the yellow glow of the porch lights. “Thanks. I’ll take you up on that. But I wasn’t referring to the dishes. I’ve been doing some thinking.”

She realized that her heart was beating much too quickly. Maybe she shouldn’t have had that cup of strong coffee after dinner. “What exactly have you been thinking about?”

“I said earlier that I think there’s a possibility that whoever stuck Winston out on the rock last night was after you, not your dog.”

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