“Jack got all of the beach property?”

“Yeah, I suppose she figured Paul would get it someday and that in the meantime Jack would fight against getting it developed.”

“Pete tell you about Malcolm Gannet?”

“Yeah, something’s not right there. I don’t know. Something’s not right about any of it. It bothers me. I wish Bredloe would let me in on it.”

“It sounds like Pete’s keeping you informed.”

“But he gets everything secondhand, so by the time it gets to me, I can’t ask the questions I want to ask.”

“Such as?”

He took a long sip of scotch, then sat forward. “Okay. Why no signs of forced entry? No struggle? Beyond finding the pentagram and the drawing on the door, why blame a cult? I think about what happened at your house last night, and that seems like something Satanists would do. You’ve been nosing around about someone who might have been in a satanic group, or who at least might have knowledge of one. And they leave a calling card – a human heart. But when Mrs. Fremont was killed, it was fairly straightforward, as murders go. Just one blow to the head. And why would Mrs. Fremont be a target for Satanists?”

“She was connected to the shelter,” I said. “Maybe she knew as much as Sammy. Or suspected something. Maybe they didn’t have time to do more at Mrs. Fremont’s house. Maybe something scared them off. Maybe they heard us drive up.”

“Maybe. But how did they get inside in the first place?”

“Don’t you think the people assigned to the case will ask those questions?”

“Yeah.” He stared into the fire.

“So tell me about this mountain property.”

“Huh? Oh. Well, it’s up near Pine Valley Lake, off by itself. A place called Pine Summit. Overlooks the valley and the lake. Very peaceful. She used to give me the keys and tell me to go up there whenever the job was getting to me.”

“Are you happy about it?”

He shook his head. “No. I didn’t want anything from her. Must make her family feel bad.”

“Did Jack or Paul seem upset?”

“Not at all. They were very gracious about it. Paul said he had some things up at one of the rentals and I told him to take his time picking them up. I’ve never used the rentals, so I don’t care if he uses one of them.” He drained the last of his scotch. “It was still damned awkward.”

I took his hand. “It was a place she knew was special to you. She didn’t know this was going to happen this way. She was in good health. She thought of you and wanted to give you a place where you could be happy.”

He shrugged.

The waiter arrived again and took our order, and we accepted his offer to bring us another round. Frank sat looking into the fire. When dinner came, he looked over at me and gave a little smile.

“Quit worrying about me,” he said. “I’m just trying to sort things out.”

“Can’t help but worry about you, Detective Harriman.”

“‘Mister’ or ‘sir’ will do. And I’m okay.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I could get used to the sound of that.”

“It would be a shame if you did, because it would mean you’d found another woman.”

“Don’t want one. Got all I can handle now.”

We chatted about lighter subjects through dinner, which was excellent. When the last plate was taken away, he ordered a couple of brandies.

“Hey, take it easy. I’m not driving for a while, but I am working.”

“Mind if I hang around again tonight?”

“No, so long as you promise not to flirt with Stacee.”

I should have known that would get a laugh from him.

“Easiest promise I’ve ever had to make.”

“We’ll see.”

The brandy came and we raised a silent toast to one another. It was smooth stuff.

“Irene?”

“Hmm.”

“Move in with me.”

“What?” Smooth stuff or no, I choked on it.

“Live with me.”

“In sin?”

He laughed. “What would the Pope have to say about what we’ve been doing so far?”

“Easy thing for an Episcopalian to ask.”

“Well?”

“I don’t know, Frank.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. I’ve just always been able to go back to some place of my own if I needed to. And as I recall, you wanted your key back from me not forty-eight hours ago.”

He looked down. “I recall being told I was a lousy liar – even at the time, you knew I didn’t mean that. I want to be with you.”

“What if you change your mind about that?”

“You think I’m not committed to you? That I’m not serious?”

“No. It’s not that.”

“So?”

“You are persistent.”

“You want to keep living where you are now?”

Throughout the day, in idle moments at work, I had been thinking about this a lot. “No, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to feel safe there again. It makes me madder than hell that it’s come to this, but when I think of being there by myself for even a few minutes – well, anyway, no, I don’t. I’m probably giving up too easily. But it’s just something I don’t want to struggle with. I need to feel safe in my own home.”

“Do you feel safe with me?”

“From everybody but you, and that’s a kind of danger I can live with.”

“You can bring your grandfather’s chair and Cody’s scratching post.”

I laughed. “I’ll think about it. I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Say yes.”

“Maybe. And don’t press your luck.”

He grinned.

I knew that meant he thought he had won. He probably had. But I wasn’t going to let him know that right away.

WE FINISHED our brandies and went into the room where the Montgomery campaign was holding its victory party. Of course, at this point, they were all victory parties. A band played old standards but no one danced. Not many people had shown up yet – still early in the evening.

Gradually, tired campaigners came through the door. I thought Frank would be bored, but being an observer by nature, he kept himself busy watching the various characters and their interactions.

Something about Frank attracts women who are over seventy. I had noticed this before. I suppose they thought he was a gentleman – well, where they were concerned, he certainly was. His manner toward them was always polite and attentive. That night, there were never less than three of them paying court at one time. While he was cornered, I picked up comments from Brady Scott and other members of the campaign.

I called the office every so often and found out that the race was running very close. It was going to be a long night. Why didn’t I pick the races that were decided by eleven o’clock? I looked across the room and saw Julie Montgomery. Well, yes, this campaign was far more interesting than the sure things. I walked over to her.

“How are you doing, Julie?”

“Fine, thank you, Miss Kelly. Glad you’re still speaking to me. I thought everyone on the Express would hate me.”

“Well, I’m not crazy about your tactics, but I think I understand why you did what you did.”

“Sorry if I got you in trouble.”

“I’m always in trouble anyway. You might want to give Mark Baker a call, though. As for me, don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks.”

“Your dad feel confident about tonight?”

“No. And he’s blaming me. I think I’m going to go home before he finds out one way or the other.”

“I envy you. I’m here or at Henderson’s for the duration.”

“Good night, Miss Kelly. And if you see Jacob, will you please say hello for me?”

“Will do.”

I FINALLY FOUND Monty Montgomery and got an all-purpose quote or two from him. I had a feeling that no one would be conceding in time for the morning edition.

Frank was leaning back in a chair, looking like it was all he could do to stay awake. I sat down next to him.

“Why don’t you go home? At least one of us can get some sleep.”

“Don’t want to leave you wandering around at night by yourself.”

“Sooner or later, Frank, I’ll have to be out at night by myself.”