“Well, he’s still with us,” he reminded her softly. “Somewhere,” he added. “But let’s go back to that day. So Marcus was at the Horse Farm and we know he definitely went in to see Aaron. We know they talked. He probably talked to Andrew and Sydney, too, because they would’ve been working at the stables.”

“Yes, and we know that because Frank spoke to them. They had casual conversations with Marcus fairly early in the day. I had a session in the morning. When I’m with my groups, I’m not paying attention to much else. As gentle as our horses are, they’re still horses. I keep an eye on every interaction. Not to mention that I’m talking most of the time. So, the upshot is that I wasn’t really watching.”

“When did Sammy come back hurt?”

“During the lunch break. It’s from twelve to one.”

“Who was around during the break that day?”

“Hmm. You’re not going to like this. I had some paperwork to do so I was at my desk. I saw Drew when I brought in Trickster. He was cleaning Gargantua’s hooves. I think he’d been checking all their shoes.”

“Did you see Sydney?”

“Not until Aaron talked about how concerned he was once Sammy came limping back. I remember Sydney called the vet right away—and our vet is wonderful. He came out and made a house call, then took Sammy with him because he wanted to keep him still for the night. He was afraid Sammy might tear out his stitches. By the time the vet left, we were all worried about Marcus. We started calling him and looking for him, then we mounted up and headed out on a search. Everyone except Sandra. We needed someone to stay at the house. Oh—we’d called Frank Vine. He gave us a spiel about Marcus being a grown man, but Aaron insisted that something was wrong. Because of Sammy, you see. Sammy would never have left Marcus.”

Dustin was glad to hear her memories of the day; for one, listening to her, he was able to eat. And he’d been famished. But now she was waiting for him to respond.

“As far as you know, any one of the others could have been out in the woods during the lunch break?”

“I suppose so. I wasn’t keeping track. And we were focused on Sammy and on the fact that Marcus seemed to be missing.”

“Someone could still have slipped through the cracks.”

“Have you eliminated anyone?” she asked.

“No.”

“Okay, but if you were going to eliminate someone, I’m assuming it would be Aaron.”

“Not necessarily.”

“Dustin! He almost died.”

“Almost.”

She shook her head and groaned. “Seriously?”

“If I were going to eliminate someone, I’d say Sydney and Drew.”

“Why?”

“Because I like them.”

“Now, there’s a good reason for you. I like everyone I work with—most of the time. And you have to realize it might not be someone involved with the Horse Farm. You could be wrong.”

“I could be—but I’m not.”

“You’re confident.”

“Yes.”

“Arrogant, really.”

“No, let’s be kind. Go back to confident.”

She began to pick up their dishes, and he rose to help. As she moved into the kitchen she asked, “Who, then? Mason? His greatest flaw is his self-regard—but he’s still a good therapist. Mariah loves history, is almost obsessed with it, but that doesn’t seem like much of a flaw. Sandra—well, okay, she can be bitchy. I had my head in the clouds about her and Aaron. I mean, I had no idea there was an affair going on. But if they’re in love, and I think they are, it sure doesn’t make sense that she’d try to hurt him, does it? Anyway, Aaron is really a doll. He’s always patient and never loses his temper. As you say, Sydney and Drew are great. They’re both low-key. Drew works with the boys from Parsonage House a lot, while Sydney is more of a loner. He’s the sweetest man on earth, but he does tend to like animals better than people. I don’t really hold that against him. And...you did suspect Aaron.”

He stood behind her at the sink. His arms were almost around her as he set down their glasses. He had to step away. He’d barely heard what she’d said; he’d been breathing in the scent of her hair.

He cleared his throat. “They all have clean backgrounds,” he said. He paused. “None of them have any charges against them, no criminal history or official complaints.”

“Does any of that matter?”

“I don’t know, but finding out everything we can about all of them is important.”

The dishes were done; the kitchen was clean.

“I’ve got to go outside with Sammy,” she said. “Usually I’d just let him out, but tonight...”

“We’ll go with him.”

They walked to the front and unlocked the door, waiting for Sammy, who came running. Olivia stood on the porch, with Dustin just behind her.

“Sammy, stay in the front, please. Do what you need to do and come back in, okay?”

The dog barked as if he understood her every word.

Maybe he did.

When they were back inside, Dustin watched her lock the door.

“I wish we hadn’t missed the alarm company,” she said anxiously.

“It’s okay. We have a dedicated watchdog—and I sleep with a big gun beside me.”

She smiled at that, then yawned. “I...guess I’ll go on up. Like I said before, make yourself at home.”

She turned quickly and ran up the stairs.

Dustin double-checked the door. He walked through the house, checking all the windows but, of course, they remained bolted tight. The way the dog had behaved earlier disturbed him, though. He was pretty sure someone had been at the house—someone other than the mailman or the people from the alarm company.

Satisfied that no locks had been compromised, he returned to the back porch and his computer and tried to focus on the histories of the people involved. He needed to go deeper into their backgrounds, searching for motives, but he had a hard time concentrating. Restless, he stood and called the information line at the hospital; Aaron’s condition was described as “good.”

Next, he called Frank Vine, who seemed grumpy when he answered. Okay, it was nighttime, and it had been a long day. Yes, Frank had been in touch with the officers on duty at the hospital and everything was fine; Sandra Cheever was sleeping in a chair next to Aaron. Frank grumbled a little more about the overtime it was going to cost him and hung up.

He’d barely put his cell phone away when it rang. He could tell from his call display that it was Ellie, the young clerk at Willis House. “Hi, Agent Blake. I don’t mean to bother you, but we were just a bit worried. We knew you were off on the camping trip, but then we hadn’t heard from you.... It’s pretty quiet out here, so we tend to worry about other people’s business.”

He smiled. “I’m fine, Ellie. But I won’t be back tonight. Don’t worry—and please don’t let my room go, okay?”

“Oh, we wouldn’t do that, Agent Blake.”

“And I intend to pay for every night, whether I’m in the room or not.”

She giggled. “Not to worry. We’ve got your credit card number. The management definitely intends to make you pay. I was just checking that you’re all right. Because, of course, everyone knows what happened today!”

“Everyone knows...what?”

“You’re a hero! You saved Aaron Bentley’s life!”

He winced. “No, Ellie, that’s kind of embarrassing. I’m not a hero. The real heroes are the nurses and doctors and paramedics who save lives every day. I’ve taken a few classes in emergency procedures, that’s all. Pretty basic stuff. And it was more a matter of right time, right place.”

“Yeah? Maybe I should take a class.”

“Knowing first aid is always a good idea—for anyone.”

“Yeah. Well, Coot says hello. He says he misses you and that you should go to the café for breakfast tomorrow.”

“Tell him I’ll try to make it.”

He put his cell away and hesitated for a minute; instinct really did count for a lot in his field. His instincts told him it would be quiet tonight. Or maybe it was pure logic—if the killer didn’t want to be caught, he or she would lie low for a while.

He walked to the stairs and paused there. “Marcus?” he said aloud. But he hadn’t sensed the presence of the ghost. And Marcus didn’t respond.

It was quiet on the second floor. He went into the bedroom and placed his Glock within easy reach on the nearby table. He prepared for bed, then prowled the room anxiously before he settled down to sleep. He was glad Malachi was coming with more Krewe members tomorrow. His concentration was at a low point, maybe because he’d figured out he was a fool. Everything wasn’t forever; everything didn’t need to mean something. Adults encountered one another in life, enjoyed physical relationships, moved on....

Yes. Hell, yes, it happened all the time. Didn’t make people enemies; didn’t naturally make them lasting friends or lovers, but...

Sometimes the attraction was too strong, too much was expected, he told himself. And in those situations, getting involved was a mistake.

Oh, bull. He’d been an idiot to turn her down.

As he lay there, he heard her door open and close. She was going downstairs. He waited for a few minutes and leaped to his feet. There was nothing that suggested a break-in; he was certain he would have heard.

He left the room and walked to the landing. Sammy was sleeping there. He raised his head, wagged his tail when he saw Dustin and went right back to sleep.

Nothing could be wrong if the dog was so sedate and unconcerned, but still...

Barefoot, he moved quickly and quietly down the stairs. As he rounded the staircase, he saw her in the kitchen, wearing a robe, something that clung to her body like silk, making a cup of tea.

“Uh, hello,” he said, wishing he’d grabbed a robe himself rather than running down in his boxers.