“I guess. It still makes me a fugitive instead of the victim of an attempted murder.”

“You tried to murder her?”

They turned to Delno, who’d asked the question of Raley. Britt laughed, but Raley frowned and said, “No, I didn’t try to murder her. Thanks for the use of the TV. If you hear anything about either of us, will you come tell us?”

Delno moved the wad of chaw from one cheek to the other. “I might. If I’m not otherwise occupied. I ain’t Walter Cronkite, you know.”

Raley gave a snort of derision. “I don’t think anyone would mistake you for Walter Cronkite.” He headed for the door. Britt thanked Delno for the information, then followed Raley out.

They were halfway across the yard when Delno called after them, “She make you shave?”

Raley didn’t stop or turn around.

The old man cackled. “I thought maybe on account of whisker burns on parts o’ her where they oughtn’t to be.”

Britt pretended not to hear that. So did Raley.

“She tell you no shave, no more-”

Raley stopped and spun around. “She had nothing to do with it. All right?”

“Then how come-”

“I’m going to a funeral.” Raley turned again and stepped into the cover of the forest.

He was walking faster now than he had on the trek over, and she had difficulty keeping up. Once, when she lagged far behind, he had to stop and wait for her. When she caught up, she was breathing hard. “Sorry. I caught my foot on a vine. My sneaker got stuck.”

“Where’s your water?”

“I finished it at Delno’s.” He passed her his bottle, but she declined it. “You’ll need it.”

“I’m okay.”

She drank from the bottle but left some for him. He finished the rest and recapped the empty bottle. “Not much farther.”

He was about to continue on their way when she said, “Jay’s funeral?”

He gave a brusque nod. “It was on the radio when I went into town this morning. His body was released to relatives yesterday after the autopsy. Funeral is at three o’clock this afternoon.”

He had got a haircut and shave to make himself more presentable, she supposed. “They’ll be there. Cobb Fordyce. George McGowan.”

“Probably.”

“They’ll recognize you.”

“So? Jay was my boyhood friend. Why wouldn’t I attend his funeral?”

“Because of what he and they did to you.”

“But they don’t know that I know. They think they accomplished what they set out to. They ruined me and got away with it. For five years, I’ve been out of the picture. No longer a threat to them.”

“Then why are you going to the funeral?”

He grinned. “To make them wonder if maybe they’re wrong.”

She found herself responding to his grin. “Seeing you will make them nervous.”

“That’s the plan and my heart’s desire. Plus, I hope to see Candy.”

He set out again, and she fell into step behind him, staying as close on his heels as possible. “When are you going to tell me about the fire, your investigation?”

“This evening. When I get back from Charleston.”

“That’ll be hours. I don’t want to stay out here by myself.”

“You can’t go with me, Britt. You can’t be seen. Whoever tried to kill you will try again if they know you’re alive.”

“I’d be defenseless out here.”

“I’ll circle by Delno’s on my way, ask if he’ll come over and stay with you.”

“That isn’t funny.”

“Wasn’t meant to be. If anyone tried-”

He stopped so suddenly Britt ran into him. Before she could even ask what had caused him to stop, he spun around, hooked his arm around her waist, and drew her into some brush.

“What-”

“Shh,” he hissed close to her ear. “Someone’s inside the cabin.”

CHAPTER 17

WHO IS IT?” BRITT WHISPERED.

“I don’t know. I just caught a glimpse through the window above the kitchen sink of someone moving around.”

Peering through a tangle of wild shrubbery, he watched the window for a full minute but no longer saw the moving shadow. However, he knew he hadn’t been mistaken. His first impulse was to charge into the cabin and confront the intruder. But he hadn’t been able to determine if the person was male or female, large or small, a potential threat or someone who was lost and seeking the help of a stranger.

Given the event of last night, he feared the worst.

Apparently Britt’s thoughts were moving along the same track, because she looked at him with apprehension.

“Stay put,” he said.

But when he tried to move, she grabbed his arm. She seemed about to beg him not to leave her alone. Instead she nodded. “Be careful.”

Raley took a deep breath and stepped from behind the concealing shrubbery. If the intruder happened to look out a window, he would see him running in a crouch toward the north exterior wall of the cabin. The distance could be covered in seconds, but during those seconds Raley was exposed and virtually defenseless.

When he reached the cabin, he hunkered down beside a brick pier. He expected a shout, a challenge, something. Nothing. He’d made it across the clearing unseen. He assumed.

He looked back toward Britt’s hiding place. He couldn’t see her. If he couldn’t, probably no one looking out a cabin window could, either, which gave him some relief as he crept along the wall toward the front of the cabin, where he hoped to catch the intruder when he or she came out.

He was moving along the outside wall of his bedroom. Hearing movement inside the room, he halted and cursed under his breath. It sounded like someone was searching the room. Opening drawers, closing them. He heard the familiar squeak of his closet door, hangers being moved along the metal rod, someone knocking against the wall.

Then there was a crash and the sound of breaking glass and he figured that casualty was his reading lamp on the TV tray. If you backed too far away from the closet without looking, you’d bump into his makeshift nightstand.

Then for several minutes there was no sound from inside. Just when Raley was about to go and investigate, he detected footsteps through the wall, the volume of them fading as they went from bedroom to living area.

Keeping against the wall, he crept to the corner of the cabin and remained crouched there as the screen door was pushed open and a man stepped onto the porch. “Anything?”

Until then, Raley hadn’t realized there was a second man. He was seated in the passenger side of the pickup, apparently searching the glove box.

Raley ducked out of sight and held his breath. If he was seen, he would have to face these guys without a weapon. He was convinced that this was no ordinary burglary, and that it was no coincidence the pair of them had shown up the morning after two men had tried to kill Britt.

He heard the glove box being snapped shut, then the passenger door of his truck. “There’s drying mud on both sides of the floorboard. He’s had a recent passenger. What about inside?”

“I’ll tell you on the way back.” The man on the porch leaped over the three steps and started across the yard. “But I think my hunch was right.”

Raley didn’t want them to leave without his getting a look, so he risked peeking around the corner of the cabin. The one who’d been in his truck had already got in on the passenger side of a maroon sedan. He was in shadow, but Raley could make out his profile. Sloping jaw, sunglasses, receding hairline. Nothing noteworthy that Raley could detect from this distance.

He got a better look at the one who’d been inside the cabin. He was of average height, slender and fit, mid-forties. A no-nonsense haircut. Conservative dark slacks and a light blue knit golf shirt.

There was nothing noteworthy about him, either-except for the pistol he returned to the holster clipped to his belt at the small of his back before he climbed into the driver’s seat, started the car, and backed away. He executed a precise and economic three-point turn, then drove off down the lane toward the highway.