She couldn’t imagine what Scott had done to bring that tight-lipped look to his face or the unemotional tone to his voice. But she wasn’t going to rest until she found out.
Her mind wandered to William and Cecilia, wondering how much rest they’d had in the past few days. Did they really hate each other? Had Cecilia loved William’s father, or was it his money she’d married? For all their searching,
all she and Scott had so far was a series of disjointed clues.
“I’m sorry.” She didn’t want to think about William and Cecilia—not until there was something more they could do. She didn’t want to think about either of them defenseless, in trouble. And Leslie. What if she didn’t know Dennis was her uncle? If Dennis was her uncle. Who was the bad guy in all this? And who were just innocent pawns in an evil game?
“Sorry for what?” Scott had both hands on the wheel.
“Last night.” She’d been trying all morning to bring that up. It had to be what was bothering him. He’d been fine until she’d lost her mind and...
“You have nothing to be sorry about.”
“But...”
“Laurel—” his voice was sharp “—let it go.”
“I can’t...”
Finally he turned to look at her, and she wished he hadn’t. There was something in Scott’s eyes she’d never seen before. Resignation. Hopelessness. “Right now,” he said, “neither can I.”
She had no idea what that meant, but she couldn’t ask. He was like a stranger, sitting there.
Bereft, a little bit frightened, Laurel searched frantically for a way to fix things. As she sat there, finding it hard to breathe, she knew only one thing for sure. She had to find a way to get the old Scott back.
She couldn’t imagine living life without him.
* * *
AS IT TURNED OUT, Laurel and Scott made another turn around Cooper’s Corner together before they headed up the hill to Twin Oaks. This time, rather than just one picture, they had four to show around—William, Cecilia, Leslie and Dennis.
The results were exactly the same. Nothing. Except for a couple of people who’d been working at the diner, pretty much everyone had been at the Founders Day barbecue. And though they did have another confirmation from a waitress at the diner that William and Cecilia had had a late lunch together, no one had seen either Dennis Arnett or Leslie Renwick.
Back at Twin Oaks, while Laurel went upstairs to freshen up and see if the twins were awake from their afternoon nap, Scott took the opportunity to have a moment alone with Maureen in her office. He and Laurel had already filled she and her brother in on the new developments in the case, but Scott had some private business he needed to discuss with the ex-NYPD detective.
The first thing she wanted to know, of course, was if there had been any word on Owen Nevil.
Scott shook his head. “His sources say he could be gone as long as a week or two, mountain trekking in the wilderness. They claim they have no way to reach him and weren’t even sure where he’d gone, though he tended to favor the Appalachians. After his time in prison, the wilderness appealed to him.”
“Do you believe them?”
Hands in the pockets of his slacks, Scott shrugged. “There could be some truth to the cabin fever bit—being cooped up in a four-by-ten cell could give anyone claustrophobia...”
“...and it’s also one hell of a convenient alibi.”
He couldn’t argue with her there.
“I need you to look at this picture.” Scott pulled the photo of Dennis Arnett out of his shirt pocket. “You recognize him?”
Ponytail falling over her shoulder, Maureen leaned forward to take a thorough look.
“Yeah,” she said almost immediately. “Who is he?”
Scott’s stomach plummeted. “You knew him in New York?”
It was going to turn out that the Nevils were involved after all, and things were going to get a hell of a lot worse before they got better.
“No,” Maureen surprised him by saying. “I ran into him, literally, on the evening of the Founders Day barbecue. I’d come back to Twin Oaks to get the kids’ sweaters and stopped in town to put a couple of letters in the mailbox so they’d go out first thing Monday morning. He was coming up the street so fast he didn’t see me. Nearly ran me over. Who is he?” she asked again, frowning. She took one more long look at the photo as she handed it back.