"No." Outrage swept through Charlotte. "That's not true. You can't possibly believe that, Madison."
"I'm not saying it is true," Madison said evenly, her eyes sharpening. "I'm telling you that I think it's a possibility. Frankly, I've also wondered if Emily might have murdered Louise. But Victoria is convinced that it's Jocelyn we have to worry about. There is a great deal of money at stake. In my world, that makes for motive."
"It makes for a very good motive in my world, too," Max said.
"Jocelyn is not a killer." Charlotte tightened her hands into fists. "For God's sake, Madison, you know her. You're her friend. And Louise was her best friend. How can you think for even one moment that she would do something horrible like murder her closest friend?"
"I'm not saying she did." Madison's jaw jerked a little. "All I'm saying is that when there's a lot of money at stake, people become . . . unpredictable."
"Not Jocelyn," Charlotte said.
She was still furious, but her voice had steadied. She was very certain of her ground.
"If Jocelyn has decided to get rid of some or all of the rest of the club members in order to maximize her profits, why would she send you and the others the coded warning?" Max asked.
He sounded mildly curious, not like he was trying to push a witness for answers, Charlotte thought.
"Isn't it obvious?" Madison was visibly impatient now. "She wants to make us think that the danger is coming from a different direction-from some unknown target who is out for revenge."
"Seems like sending you all into hiding would only make things more difficult for her," Max pointed out. "She knows where you live here in the city, but how will she find you if you all leave for parts unknown?"
"You don't know Jocelyn very well, do you?" Madison smiled a thin, humorless smile. "Well, let me tell you, she's had over a year to get to know the club members. At one time or another she's probably figured out exactly where we would go if we had to run."
"But you're not running?" Max asked.
"No. This thing will be over in ten days. That's when the Keyworth buyout is set to conclude. In the meantime, I need to stay on top of it. Buyouts are fragile. This one could collapse if even one individual gets cold feet."
"In other words, if Jocelyn is trying to get rid of the other club members, she's on the clock," Max said.
Charlotte glared at him, but he didn't seem to notice.
"Exactly," Madison said.
"But what if neither Jocelyn nor Emily is the killer?" Max said quietly. "What if one of the targets, as you call them, really is hunting the members of the club?"
"I have a gun," Madison said. "I know how to use it."
"You and everyone else in the club, it seems," Max said.
Madison shrugged. "We knew there was some danger involved. We just didn't expect it to come from one of the other members."
CHAPTER 42
Aunt Hildy had often claimed that the old trailer was a classic. Victoria didn't doubt it. In the distant past its aluminum shell had shone mirror-bright in the sun, but time had oxidized the metal to a dull gray color. The rounded front end had been state-of-the-art back in the day, designed to make the trailer aerodynamic and, therefore, easier to pull.
But the trailer had not been moved in decades. It had served as Hildy's home for as long as Victoria could remember. It had become a refuge for her and her mother after the nightmare of her mother's second marriage had finally ended.
The trailer was set on a parcel of land that overlooked the rugged coastline, a mile outside of the small town where Victoria had finished high school. During the summer months the community was populated with tourists, weekenders and others who came to the coast to enjoy the dramatic, windswept beaches. But the tourist season was over, and that meant there were few strangers in the area. Those who did show up for a fall beach weekend stood out.
After Hildy's death Victoria had told herself that she ought to sell the property. But the memories had been too strong. Besides, neither the land nor the trailer was worth much.
In the end she had decided to keep the trailer as a weekend place, at least until land values picked up. The trailer and the property it sat on were all she had left of the strong woman who had protected her and her mother.
She looked around the compact interior, remembering how safe she had felt there after she and her mother had moved in with Hildy. It had been crowded with the three of them in the small space, but Victoria hadn't cared. Hildy had said she would take care of them, and Victoria had trusted her to do just that.
The bastard who had married her mother had shown up only once. Hildy had met him at the door of the trailer with a gun in her hand. He had never returned. But Victoria knew that Hildy had slept with the gun in the drawer beside her bed every night until they got word that the s.o.b. had been killed in a car crash.
Before that summer was over, Hildy had taught Victoria how to fire the weapon and how to keep it in good condition. She had given Victoria a pistol of her own as a high school graduation present. Victoria had slept with the weapon in a bedside drawer every night of her life since.
Some people might have found the relative isolation of the trailer's location unnerving under the circumstances. But Victoria felt safer there where everyone in the community knew her than she had in the city where she was virtually anonymous.
It was the kind of small town where strangers asking for directions to the home of a local resident were automatically viewed with suspicion. There were other factors that ensured the safety of the trailer. The land around it was covered with scruffy, weather-beaten bushes and grasses. There were no tall trees to provide cover for someone who wanted to approach unobserved. Any vehicle coming up the graveled drive would make plenty of noise before it got near the trailer.
She was as safe here as she would be anywhere else, she thought. And if she did have to use the pistol, there would be a lot less explaining to do afterward than would be the case if she were forced to fire it in her condo tower. In this part of Washington State it was understood that a woman living alone had a right to protect herself.
CHAPTER 43
Max and Charlotte went to the same neighborhood restaurant where they had eaten the night Max had first visited her apartment. Charlotte was amused when he ordered the crab cakes.
"Again?" she said.
"I'm a creature of habit," Max said. "I did try to warn you. A one-foot-in-front-of-the-other kind of guy, remember?"
"Right. Personally, I'm going to take a walk on the wild side. Mostly because I'm starving." She looked up at the waiter. "I'll have the crab cakes, too."
The waiter left with the order. Charlotte turned back to Max.
"I owe Anson a dinner," she said. "Heck, a whole week of dinners. I can't tell you how relieved I am to have my bag back with my wallet and credit cards. And I can't believe my phone survived. I thought for sure I'd have to replace it."
"You lucked out because you had your phone in a decent case and because your bag was waterproof nylon."
"It's my street bag and I live in Seattle," she explained. "So, yes, it's waterproof. What do we do now?"
"We look for the one member of the club we haven't been able to interview-Victoria Mathis."
"How do you propose to find her?"
Max sipped some beer. "How would you characterize her financial situation?"
"I told you, I don't know any of Jocelyn's friends well. Everything I do know about them I've picked up from Jocelyn. She and Louise and Madison had the highest-paying jobs, I can tell you that much. I think Emily and Victoria were doing okay, but they certainly weren't rich. Why do you ask?"
"Because it costs money to go into hiding. Not everyone can pick up and leave for some no-name island in the Caribbean at a moment's notice."
"Oh, right. I see what you mean. Well, for what it's worth, Victoria probably qualifies as the one with the fewest resources."
"Then we should be able to find her."
"We've already talked to Madison and Emily. What more can Victoria tell us?"
"I have no idea," Max said.
His phone pinged. He took it out of the pocket of his jacket. Charlotte watched his face as he read the e-mail. His eyes tightened a little at the corners. He shut down his phone without comment.
"News?" she asked, unable to squelch her curiosity.
"Yeah, but not about your stepsister or this case."
"Another case you're working on?"
"Another case I was working on." Max drank some of his beer. "I've dropped it."
Charlotte waited to see if he would add any additional details. But he didn't. She could tell from his eyes and the set of his jaw that he had retreated into some other dimension again.
The subtle transition was jolting. It made her realize that ever since they had returned from the harrowing trip to the mountains, a sense of intimacy had infused their relationship.
Or maybe that was just her imagination.
She was suddenly consumed with the urge to haul him out into the light.
"Why did you drop the case?" she asked. "Did the client fail to pay his bill?"
For a moment she didn't think he was going to answer. But in the end he looked at her over the top of his glass.