She had promised Adeline another local-color piece to feed to the maw of the wire services and to keep the hits coming at the Web site. The new deadline was looming, but she had been unable to concentrate on the story. Instead, her brain insisted on returning to the problem of Pamela’s death. Maybe this intense fixation was the true definition of a conspiracy theorist, she thought.
A chill went through her. Maybe all the therapists over the years had been right when they tried to convince her that she was obsessing on her own fictional version of events because she could not deal with reality.
No, don’t go there, she ordered herself. You’re a reporter. Try sticking with the [_dots. Better yet, try coming up with some new ones. _]
She watched a battered pickup pull into the drive and park near the lobby. Tucker Mills got out and removed a rake and a large broom from the back of the vehicle.
Maxine emerged to greet him, radiating animation and enthusiasm.
The Sunrise on the Lake Lodge was enjoying a rush of out-of-season business due to an influx of members of the media who had arrived in Dunsley to get background on the big story. Appalled at the prospect of so many unanticipated paying guests, Luke had abandoned the front desk altogether, leaving everything in Maxine’s hands.
Once in command, Maxine had risen to the challenge immediately. Her first act had been to quadrupl he rack rates. After renting up all of the available space, she had politely but firmly suggested that Irene move into Luke’s cabin, thereby freeing up another room. An hour ago Maxine had dispatched Luke into Dunsley to pick up fresh supplies of toilet paper, coffee and doughnuts. Irene knew that he had been grateful for the excuse to escape.
The small media frenzy would not last long, Irene reflected, but while it did, the lodge was flourishing.
She took another swallow of tea and thought some more about previously unconsidered dots. Shard f one of her old nightmares flickered through her head.
It occurred to her that she was one of the dots.
* * *
“I’m sorry Irene didn’t come with you,” Tess said. She poured freshly made lemonade into Luke’s glass and sat down in one of the living room chairs. “I have all sorts of questions for her.”
p. “She’s working on another piece for the _Beacon. _” Luke downed half the contents of his glass, savoring the tangy taste. “Adeline is leaning on her for more local stuff.
The Ryland Webb story is getting deeper and wider by the hour.”
Tess chuckled. “Who would have thought that quiet little Irene would have turned out to be a fiery investigative journalist?”
“She’s a woman on a mission,” Luke said. “I’m supposed to be on one, too. I put Maxine in charge o he lodge, and the next thing I know, she’s issuing orders. She sent me out to scour the local terrain for toilet paper. Personally, I don’t see any reason why the guests can’t supply their own, but Maxine feels differently.”
Tess laughed. “I’ll bet she’s enjoying herself out there at the lodge.”
“She’s making money, that’s for sure. At any rate, on the way into town I got to thinking that you might be able to help me clear up one question that’s been bothering me.”
Tess’s intelligent face lit with interest. “What do you want to know?”
“The name of the person Pamela confided in the day Irene’s parents died.”
Tess’s enthusiasm faded abruptly. “You’re talking about the individual who called Ryland Webb and warned him about what Pamela had done?”
“Any ideas?”
Tess sighed. “Phil and I talked about it. We came up with one possibility, but neither of us believe hat there’s any point pursuing it. I’m sure the person we’re thinking of did what he thought was th ight thing, never guessing where it would lead.”
“How the hell could he believe that calling Webb was the right thing?”
Tess pondered the view outside her window for a moment and then turned back to face him. Her expression was very steady.
“First, I’d better give you some local history,” she said. “Phil and I were born and raised in this town.
One way or another we’ve experienced the effects of three generations of Webbs.”
“I’m listening.”
“My mother told me a story once. It was about a girl named Milly whom she knew in high school her n Dunsley. Evidently Milly was quite a beauty. The summer she graduated Victor Webb gave her a job as a receptionist in his company’s headquarters in San Francisco. She was thrilled. She took off for the bright lights of the big city without a backward glance. My mother and her friends were incredibly envious of her good fortune.”
“I sense a bad outcome here.”
“You sense right. A year and a half after she left Dunsley, Milly returned with a baby boy. She raise im here. She was a single mother living in a small town where jobs have always been scarce, but sh nd her boy never seemed to lack for a nice roof over their heads and decent clothes.”
“Did she work?”
“Occasionally, but mostly just to keep busy, I think. As I said, she didn’t appear to need the money.”
“Where did the cash come from?”
Tess reached for the lemonade pitcher. “Milly told everyone that she’d had an affair with a man who was killed in a car accident before he could marry her, but that he left her something in his will. She stuck to that story until the day she died, although my mother and her friends never really believed it.”
“Milly’s dead?”
Tess nodded. “Cancer. But her son still lives here in town. And if the old rumors were right, Victo ebb is his father.”
“That would make Ryland Webb his brother.”
“Yes.”
* * *
The houses in the heavily wooded subdivision were not the most upscale in town, but they were solidly middle class. The vehicles in the paved driveways were of recent vintage. Luke saw gardens and lawns but no front porches. This was a neighborhood of backyard decks and patios.
p. He left the SUV at the corner and walked back to the police cruiser that was parked in front of a closed garage. The window was conveniently lowered on the driver’s side. A garage door opener was clippe o the visor.
He reached inside the vehicle and depressed the button. The garage door rumbled open in response.
A heavy, silver SUV was parked inside.
Luke went forward to take a closer look. The finish on the front of the vehicle was badly dinged and chipped in several places. Myriad spiderweb cracks marred the windshield.