Jayne Ann Krentz (30 page)

He heaved himself upward, hands stretched out for Rafe's throat.

Rafe saw the madness in his eyes and moved back out of reach. “It's over, Jed.”

“Why did you have to come back here and screw up everything? Why, goddamn you?”

“It's over,” Rafe said again.

In the distance sirens wailed. Winston pranced in agitation and started to bark again. Hannah rounded the corner, the fire extinguisher from the kitchen cupboard in her hands.

“Oh, my God.” She halted at the scene in front of her.

“I had it made until you came back.” Jed's face crumpled in fury. “Everything was in place. After all these years, everything was in place. And then you came back.”

He launched himself wildly across the short space that separated him from Rafe.

Rafe sidestepped the charge and stuck out one foot. Jed tripped over it and fetched up against the wall of the mansion. He clung there a few seconds and then slid slowly to a sitting position.

When he opened his eyes this time, the rage was gone. In its wake was a bleak awareness of abject failure.

“I had it all planned,” he whispered.

“Winston was the hero of the hour.” Hannah looked proudly at her dog, who was gnawing on a chewing bone. “Thanks to him, the fire damage was minimal. The Willis brothers assured us they could have things in great shape in a couple of weeks.”

“I'd allow more like a couple of months, if I were you,” Mitchell said. “Construction work never gets done on time, especially when the Willis brothers are handling things.”

“Maybe it's just as well,” Hannah said. “We wanted to make some major modifications to that wing, anyway. We can incorporate them into the repairs.”

“Makes sense.” Mitchell leaned back in his chair and cast an assessing glance the length of the veranda. “Got your work cut out for you here. But I think, in the end, you'll have yourselves a nice little inn and restaurant.”

“Five stars,” Rafe said. His voice was soft with certainty.

“Don't doubt it for a minute.” Mitchell chuckled. “Al ways knew you could do anything you set out to do. Just a matter of applying yourself.”

Hannah grinned. “Gee, what a coincidence. I once told him the same thing.”

Rafe stacked his heels on the railing and took a swallow from the beer bottle in his hand. “How could I miss with both of you telling me what to do with my life?”

“Took you long enough to live up to expectations, but you finally made it.” Mitchell cradled his beer in one fist and squinted into the dying light. “Any more news on Jed Steadman?”

“Just that everything went down pretty much as we figured.” Rafe looked out over the bay. “Except, of course, that Jed is claiming through his lawyer that Kaitlin's death was an accident.”

“The result of a quarrel over the tapes,” Hannah explained.

“Yeah, yeah,” Mitchell muttered. “Reckon it's a given he'll end up facing only a manslaughter charge. But what happened to the tapes?”

“Jed claims they went over the cliff with Kaitlin and were swept out to sea. Says he never even viewed them.”

“Ha.” Mitchell grimaced. “And if you believe that, I've got some waterfront property in Arizona I can sell you.”

“I don't think anyone actually believes his story,” Hannah said slowly. “But if those tapes don't surface, no one will be able to prove otherwise. The Thornley camp is taking the line that the incident had nothing to do with their man. But there's a rumor going around that Trevor Thornley met Kaitlin when she worked for his first campaign.”

“Wonder how many copies there are of those tapes,” Mitchell mused.

“Not our problem,” Rafe said. “Thornley's the one who has to worry about opening a tabloid someday and finding a picture of himself modeling lingerie inside. We've got other things to occupy us.”

Mitchell cocked a brow. “Such as?”

“Such as planning a wedding,” Hannah said smoothly.

For a split second Mitchell looked stunned. In the next instant delight exploded across his weathered features. He gave a whoop that made Winston drop his chewing bone, get up from the floor, and pad over to his chair to see what all the excitement was about.

“Well, shoot and damn,” Mitchell said when he finally got his exuberance under control. “I knew you two would get around to doing the right thing. You just needed a little kick in the you-know-where.”

“Don't know how we could have managed without your help,” Rafe said dryly. “Telling everyone at the post office that Hannah and I were planning to get married was certainly an inspiration for us. Wasn't it, Hannah?”

“Definitely inspirational,” Hannah said.

Mitchell was clearly having trouble containing his delight. “Least I could do. Wait'll Sullivan and the rest of those uptight, upright Hartes hear about this. Your family is going to have a combined hissy fit, Hannah.”

Hannah winced. “I expect there will be some fireworks when Rafe and I tell them the good news.”

“Gonna light up the sky,” Mitchell agreed cheerfully. “Sure would like to be there when you spring it on 'em.”

“Forget it,” Rafe muttered. “You're not going to be anywhere in the vicinity.”

“Ah—”

“Speaking of family reaction,” Hannah said firmly,

“I'll be planning this wedding. I've had a certain amount of experience in the field, but I must admit this particular event presents some unique challenges.”

Mitchell chortled. “Worried about a brawl in the church?”

Hannah gave him a repressive look. “I expect some cooperation, restraint, and civilized behavior from everyone. Is that clear?”

“Don't look at me like that.” Mitchell contrived to appear deeply offended. “We Madisons aren't going to cause a ruckus.”

“Damn right,” Rafe agreed. “If there's trouble it won't start on the Madison side.”

Hannah gave both men a steely look. “It better not finish there, either.”

The wedding was held two months later, in the Eclipse Bay Community Church. Everyone in town was invited, and virtually everyone came. In spite of several ghoulish predictions of carnage, the ceremony went off without a hitch.

Halfway through the reception, which was held at Dreamscape, Mitchell could no longer restrain himself. He sought out Sullivan in order to gloat.

He found his old partner and rival on the veranda. Sullivan stood alone near the railing, a glass of champagne in one hand, a cane in the other.

Well, shoot and damn, Mitchell thought. He's lost as much hair as I have. Seemed like he was taller back in the old days, too. Guess we've both shrunk.

Looking at Sullivan was a little like looking into an old mirror. What had he expected? That they would stay young and dynamic forever?
At least I'm not the only one here with a cane
.

“Hey, Sullivan.” He came to a halt a few paces away. “What do you think of your new grandson-in-law?”

Sullivan turned slowly around to face him. Mitchell relaxed a little. His ex-partner might be showing some wear and tear, but a savvy gleam still burned brightly in his eyes. This was the same man who had fought at his side in a long ago military action that no one except those who had been involved in it even remembered. This was the same man who had saved his life in that miserable jungle and whose life he had saved in return.

This was the same man he had teamed up with to risk everything in a financial gamble that had made them both rich for a while. The same man whose teeth he had tried to knock out in front of Fulton's Supermarket.

He met Sullivan's eyes and knew that they were both aware of the truth. The bonds that joined them would never dissolve.

Sullivan glanced down the length of the veranda to where Rafe stood with Hannah. “He'll do. Always said he had potential.”

“I sure as hell never heard you say that.”

“We haven't talked much for a long time, Mitch.”

“Nope. Sure haven't.”

“You did okay by Rafe and Gabe.”

Startled, Mitchell glanced quickly at him and then turned just as swiftly away. “Can't take all the credit.”

“No, but you can take some of it.”

They stood together for a while, watching the crowd. Mitchell noticed that Sullivan made no effort to walk away.

“Looks like we're going to be seeing a lot of each other again,” Mitchell offered finally. “I hear you Hartes are big on family gatherings.”

“Yes.” Sullivan looked at him. “We're very big on that kind of thing. How do you feel about your new granddaughter-in-law?”

Mitchell smiled. “She'll do.”

“This better work out, Mitch. I swear to God, if Rafe doesn't treat her right—”

“Don't sweat it.” Mitchell watched Rafe slide a protective arm around Hannah's waist. “She's his passion. You know how it is with Madisons and their passions.”

“Yes.” Sullivan sounded satisfied. “I know how it is with Madisons and their passions. Nothing gets in the way.”

One month later…

The phone rang, shattering the moment. Rafe paused in the act of leaning over to kiss Hannah. She looked up at him from the pillow.

“The phone,” she said.

“I knew I should have switched off the ringer before we went to bed tonight.”

The instrument warbled insistently.

“You'd better answer it. Might be your grandfather.”

“All the more reason to ignore it.” Reluctantly he picked up the phone. “This better be important,” he said to whoever was on the other end of the line.

“Am I interrupting anything?” Gabe asked politely.

“Yes. Our one-month wedding anniversary.”

“It's only nine o'clock.”

“Us old married folks go to bed early.”

“I've heard that,” Gabe said. “Actually that brings me to what I wanted to talk about.”

Rafe groaned and flopped back on his pillow. “I really do not want to talk about your thwarted love life tonight.”

“I haven't got a love life to thwart.”

“Another date go south?”

“Big time.”

Rafe glanced at Hannah, who raised one brow. “Told you this idea of using a businesslike approach to finding a wife wasn't going to work very well.”

“No, I know I'm on the right track. I just need to fine-tune the strategy. I realized tonight that what I have to do is approach this the same way I would approach a merger or an acquisition. I need to hire a professional consultant.”

A premonition of disaster shot through Rafe. “I hope you aren't going to tell me what I think you're going to tell me.”

“I'm going to call Hannah's sister first thing in the morning and sign up with her matchmaking agency. I understand she's fully computerized.”

Rafe shut his eyes. “This is a bad dream. I know it is.”

“I spoke with Lillian briefly at the wedding. She said she's got a very high success rate.”

“Gabe, I don't think this is a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Well—” Rafe hesitated. “I don't know. It just feels sort of dicey for some reason.”

“What have I got to lose?”

“Uh, well—” Rafe felt a tug on his wrist. “I'm going to hang up now, Gabe. I want to go back to celebrating my one-month anniversary.”

“Give Hannah my best. If things work out with the Private Arrangements agency, I'll be celebrating some anniversaries myself one of these days.”

“Something tells me it won't be that simple,” Rafe warned. “You're a Madison, remember? We don't do simple when it comes to marriage. We always do things the hard way.”

“Only when we make the mistake of letting emotion take over. I don't plan to make that mistake.”

“Good luck.” Rafe disconnected, tossed the phone onto the table, and rolled back toward Hannah.

That was when he realized that his left wrist was bound to the red wrought-iron bed frame. He studied the familiar-looking padded handcuff Hannah had used to chain him with great interest.

“Where'd you get the cuffs?” he asked.

“I bought them from Virgil.” She held up the second cuff. “An anniversary present.”

“Oh, my.” Rafe smiled slowly. “Don't know if I can handle so much excitement.”

“Something tells me you're up to the challenge.”

“I'll do my best.” He reached out for her with his free hand and pulled her down across his chest. “I love you, Hannah.”

“I love you, too.”

He speared his fingers through her hair. “Should have married you eight years ago.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. I think we both needed time to decide what we wanted out of life.”

“You could be right.” He thought about that for a few seconds. “I told you that night that it would be a long walk home.”

“Yes, you did.” She brushed her lips across his. “But we both got here safely. That's all that matters.”