"No, nothing that was suspicious."

"This is very close to time of death, and it appears the assailant entered through a study window. Your bedroom balcony isn't far from there."

"I know! But I didn't see anything suspicious."

"Nothing at all? Nothing the least bit unusual?"

"All I saw was Noah leaving the—" She stopped, looking so horrified that she almost made Noah look guilty. "Noah, I didn't mean—"

Detective Cagle spoke up for the first time. With that hesitant, uncertain expression, he said, "Mr. Maitland, you didn't mention that you'd come to the house. You said you'd met Miss Reynolds on the beach."

Noah seemed unconcerned with the direction the questioning had suddenly taken. "I'd started across the lawn and gotten partway to the house when I saw a woman walking on the beach who could have been Sloan, so I stopped and waited until I was sure it was her; then I walked back to the beach. Which is, technically, where I met her."

"Are you in the habit of coming here late in the evening, without calling first?"

"I called first, but no one answered."

"What time did you call?"

"Fifteen minutes before I decided to walk over here. The answering machine picked up the call."

"That's right, it did," Gary Dishler interjected firmly. "Nordstrom goes to bed early, because he gets up very early, so I handle any phone calls that come in after nine-thirty. I had heard the phone ringing when I was taking a shower, but by the time I got to the phone in my room to answer it, Mr. Maitland had hung up. I played back the message on the answering machine to make certain the call wasn't something I needed to deal with. Mr. Maitland had left a short message for Miss Reynolds. He made something of a joke about knowing she was here and coming over to throw rocks at her balcony window. I used the intercom to call Miss Reynolds's room, but she wasn't there. I paged her on the house intercom and she didn't answer. I assumed that she'd gone outdoors."

"Did you do anything else?"

"Yes, before I went to bed a short while later, I disarmed the infrared beams so they wouldn't go on with the rest of the security system, which goes on automatically at midnight."

"Why did you disarm the beams?"

"So that Miss Reynolds or Mr. Maitland could walk across the yard after midnight if they chose, without tripping the beams and setting off the alarm. It's quite simple to disarm the beams, although I had to look it up in the instruction manual when Miss Reynolds first arrived."

"Why is that?"

"Because Miss Reynolds enjoys running on the beach at early hours and walking on it at late hours. Mr. Reynolds and Miss Paris do not indulge in those activities."

Sloan had always had ambivalent feelings about Dishler, so she was surprised when he went out of his way to loyally shield her, as well as Noah, from further suspicion. He sounded like he had picked up on the detectives' doubts about Noah's phone call and Sloan's late-night jaunt on the beach and was determined to set them straight. "No one has bothered to ask me, however, I can also verify that Mr. Maitland never reached the house because I had gone to my window to open it to let in the night air. I saw Mr. Maitland start across the back lawn, stop, and then start back toward the beach."

"Did you see Miss Reynolds?"

"No, I did not. I did notice that Mr. Maitland was angling to the north of the property, not to the south, where his house lies. Knowing what I now know, I assume Miss Reynolds must have been returning from the north when he saw her, and he crossed the property in that direction to intercept her."

Cagle looked gratified and impressed and deeply, deeply apologetic. "I did not mean to imply any suspicion of Miss Reynolds or Mr. Maitland. I just wanted to know where everyone was, and when they were there, so we can rule those locations out when we're searching the grounds and house for evidence tomorrow. I haven't been with the department very long. Think of me as sort of an apprentice."

He shot an apologetic look at everyone in the room, including Captain Hocklin, pushed his glasses up onto his nose, and tried to look invisible while Detective Flynn took over.

"We're just about finished for tonight," Flynn said. "Mr. Richardson, you said you were away for the day on business and returned about eleven P.M.?"

"That's right."

"And you rang the call button at the gate, spoke to Mr. Dishler on the intercom, and he let you in?"

"That's right."

"Thank you, sir."

"That's correct," Dishler added.

"And thank you, sir," Flynn said cheerfully.

"Miss Reynolds?" he said, looking at Sloan. "Would you mind going over the last part of the evening for me again? You said you had dinner with the victim. What happened after that please?"

Sloan reached up and rubbed her temples without realizing her head was beginning to pound. "After dinner, I watched television with her in the room where you found her, until about nine-thirty; then I decided to go upstairs and write a letter. Mrs. Reynolds is very fond of game shows, particularly Jeopardy!, and I'd already sat through three of them with her. I didn't think I could handle another one. She's very intense about them and doesn't like to talk unless a commercial is on. I'd been sitting for hours, and when I got upstairs, I decided I felt more like going for a walk than sitting down again to write."

Detective Flynn was very understanding and sympathetic. "I hope you aren't blaming yourself for leaving her when you did. If you hadn't, it's likely you would have been killed by the same intruder."

"Maybe," Sloan said, feeling a surge of fury at the monster who had done this and at herself for not being there to stop it. If she hadn't been so wrapped up with Noah, this might never have happened.

A chill ran through her entire body, and she shivered. Noah saw it, and annoyance put a sharp edge on his voice as he scowled at the police captain. "You've had enough questions answered to keep you busy tonight," he said shortly. "Let these people get some rest."

To Sloan's relief, the captain stood up at once, looking apologetic. The detectives followed his lead. "You're right, Mr. Maitland."

Carter went up to bed immediately, and Paris got up to follow him. She looked like a walking ghost, her face ashen and expressionless, a handkerchief clutched in her fist, but she hadn't let herself break down in front of strangers. Sloan walked as far as the doorway with her, then stopped, and she saw Paris's control start to slip. "Aren't you coming up to bed, too?" Paris asked, her voice beginning to shake. She sounded frightened about being alone, a reaction to everything that had happened that Sloan understood from experience.