“Got a feeling he’ll want to keep the arson quiet, the same way he wants to keep his daughter’s overdose quiet. He does not want to distract fund-raisers and potential donors.”
“Going to be a little difficult to keep the fire under the radar, don’t you think?”
“Something tells me that the next time I see Chief McPherson he’ll have come up with a perfectly reasonable explanation for ignoring a case of arson that just happened to take place in the home of a woman who had recently OD’d.”
He took another bite of French toast, chewed and reached for his orange juice.
“Course, McPherso nd Webb probably aren’t counting on Irene. If anyone can get the arson onto the screen, she will.”
“Luke?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t take this wrong, but do you think maybe you should be careful about getting any more involved with Irene Stenson? I mean, I like her a lot. She’s really different from anyone else you’ve ever been with. But there’s no getting around the fact that she seems to be contributing heavily to your stress levels.”
Luke gave him his war face and ate more French toast.
Jason cleared his throat. “Dr. Van Dyke told Dad that, given your history, it would be a good idea no o subject yourself to too much stress right now.”
“Screw Dr. Van Dyke.”
Jason grimaced. “I’d rather not. Something about those sensible shoes and those sturdy tweed suits she wears probably. Maybe I just lack imagination, but I don’t think I could get past them.”
“Go back to Santa Elena and tell everyone to stop worrying about me. I’ll see you all at the birthday party.”
“What about Irene Stenson?”
“Stressful she may be, but at least she doesn’t wear sensible shoes and tweed suits.
Or maybe you didn’t happen to notice the high-heeled boots and the black trench coat?”
Jason’s eyes rolled back in his head. He twitched a little.
“Oh, yeah. Saw the boots. And the black trench, too. You think I maybe there’s a little whip to go with them?”
“Don’t know. But it has become my mission in life to find the answer to that burning question.”
* * *
Luke was checking in the newlyweds when Irene opened the front door and strode
—that was the word for it, he decided, strode—into the lobby. One quick, covert survey told him everything he needed to know about her mood. Another black pullover and another pair of black trousers, the black leather boots and the trench. She was in full battle armor again, ready to duel with Dunsley.
She took in the scene at the front desk without saying a word and quietly crossed the room to the coffee service table. Out of the corner of his eye, Luke saw her examine the pot of coffee and the day-old doughnuts that he had put out earlier.
The last thing he wanted right now was to be bothered by paying guests, he thought.
He had things t o with Irene Stenson.
He shoved the registration form and a pen in front of the gawky young husband.
“Name, address and driver’s license number, Addison,” he said. “Full signature at the bottom. Initial the departure date.”
The very new Mrs. Addison’s eyes widened in alarm. She took a quick step back from the counter, looking as though she thought Luke might vault over it and go for her throat.
Now what? he wondered, striving to hang on to his patience. All he had done was ask her husband t ill out the damn form.
Mr. Addison gulped so hard that Luke saw his Adam’s apple move.
“Uh, yes, sir,” Addison said. He grabbed the pen and hastily went to work filling out the form.
Across the lobby, Irene paused in the act of removing a tea bag from her purse. She frowned. Luk pted to ignore her.
“All finished, sir.” Addison pushed the form back across the counter with obvious relief.
Luke gave the paper a cursory glance, checking to make sure each section had been filled in. “Checkout time is twelve hundred.”
Across the room, Irene closed her eyes in a rather pained way Addison went blank. “Uh, twelve hundred what, sir?”
“Hours. High noon.”
“Yes, sir,” Addison said quickly. “Don’t worry, we’ll leave before noon.”
Luke swiped a key off a hook and handed it to Addison. “Cabin Number Ten.
There’s a list of regs posted on the back of the door. Read em.”
Addison blinked uneasily. “Regs?”
“Regulations,” Luke said, trying to be patient. “No loud disturbances of any kind, no illegal activities, no one who isn’t officially registered is allowed to spend the night in the room and so on.”
“Right. Sure. I mean, yes, sir.” Addison bobbed his head nervously. “No problem.
It’s just the two of us. Sir.”
“You will also find a little card on the nightstand requesting that you help the management of this lodge conserve energy. You will treat that request as a regulation. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.” Addison cast a quick, urgent glance at his nervous wife. “Janice and me are real big on preserving the environment, aren’t we, Janice?”
“Yes,” she said, barely audible.
“Glad to hear that,” Luke said. “Enjoy your stay in the honeymoon suite.”
Addison blinked. “The honeymoon suite?”
Mrs. Addison was clearly astounded. “We got the honeymoon suite?”
“Sure,” Luke said. “Why not? You are honeymooners, right? You’re not just saying that in order to get the honeymoon suite, are you?”
“No, sir,” Mrs. Addison assured him. “We just got married this morning. At the courthouse over in Kirbyville.”
Addison looked more uneasy than ever but he stood his ground. “Uh, how much extra is the honeymoon suite?”
Luke leaned on the counter. “For you two? No extra charge. Provided you obey all the regs, of course.”
On the other side of the lobby Irene raised her eyes to the vaulted ceiling.
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Addison grabbed his wife’s hand and dragged her toward the door. “Com n, Janice. I got us the honeymoon suite.”
“I can’t wait until we go back to Kirbyville to tell everyone about this,” Janice said, alight with anticipation.
The pair dashed outside.
Luke folded his arms on the counter and watched the young couple through the window. “Honeymooners. Gotta love ‘em.”
“It looked more like you were trying to scare them,” Irene said.