Charlotte's eyes flared. Whitney's head jerked toward the old woman.
In the silence that fell on the small group, the sound of the fire intruded, the crackle, hiss, and roar, the brusque calls of the firemen, the thump of their running feet, the crash of falling timbers.
Miss Dora looked from Charlotte to Whitney, then toward the flickering flames. 'A murderer moved in the quiet of this night to search out and destroy. But I shall prevail.'
Annie didn't know which was most ominous, the voracious
destructiveness of the fire or the inimical certainty in that whispery voice.
'So, you think it was arson.' Annie's eyes ached with fatigue. She watched with approval as Max poured coffee into their cups. She needed every ounce of energy the world's finest brew could provide. Although they'd gone back to bed after the fire was extinguished, she'd smelled smoke for the rest of the night and tossed and turned restlessly. She had a sense of time speeding past and she and Max trying desperately, frantically to capture a dangerous and wily opponent before it was too late.
Too late for what?
Wasn't it almost certainly too late for Courtney Kimball? So why this unremitting sense of urgency?
Was it the fact of the fire, the reminder that death and destruction could strike at any time?
Was it Miss Dora's parting injunction? As they'd turned to go, she called after them, 'Quickly, we must progress quickly.'
Or was it the fear that murder wasn't yet done?
Max nodded as he speared another piece of papaya (which Annie found about as tasty as chewing on the plastic handle of a toothbrush). 'Not only does the inn provide an excellent breakfast with the room, but look at this terrific assortment of fruit. Annie, we must start having this at home.'
Annie drank more coffee and reached for another peanut butter cookie.
A little indistinctly, Max continued. 'Sure, it's arson. Didn't you smell the gasoline?'
She realized suddenly that she had indeed smelled gasoline. 'No wonder the flames spread so fast.' She sprinkled brown sugar on her oatmeal. 'It's infuriating to think we were that close to finding things out, and the murderer's outwitted us.'
Max poked the serving spoon in the bowl of fruit, looking for more papaya wedges, but settled for honeydew. 'No, that's not true.' He was emphatic and utterly confident. He flashedher an upbeat smile. 'In fact, the murderer made a mistake —a big one. Look at it this way: just because we're going to Tarrant House today doesn't mean we would have asked about the recent family papers or learned that they, too, were stored in Charlotte's personal museum, or, even if we'd learned about them, that we would have made them a top priority. So, the murderer did us a big favor. The fire makes it damn clear we have to scratch and scratch to find out more about Augustus.'
Annie reached for more brown sugar. 'Why Augustus?' She thought it through. 'Why not Amanda? She's the one who went over a cliff after writing a letter stating Ross wasn't guilty.'
Max looked at her in surprise, then nodded agreement. 'Sagaciously put, partner in crime.'
Annie tried not to look too pleased. Of course, Agatha Christie's Tuppence Beresford often saw more ramifications than her husband, Tommy, but it made for marital harmony to be tactful.
The phone rang. Annie glanced at the time. Almost eight o'clock.
'Hello.' Max tucked the receiver against his shoulder and poured fresh coffee. 'Yeah, Barb. Great. Let's hear it.'
Annie finished the last scoop of oatmeal and watched as Max scribbled notes.
Hanging up, he said briefly, 'Harris Walker. Porter checked, Walker's in the clear. Played golf Wednesday afternoon, two rounds, didn't come in off the course till seven. Had dinner at the grill with one of his foursome. No chance he could have been in Chastain.'
Annie pictured that desperate, frantic face. She wasn't surprised, but she was glad.
Max took a gulp of coffee and looked up at the mantel clock. 'We need to hurry, Annie.'
She understood. It was already Friday morning. Courtney had been missing since Wednesday night.
If they were to find her, it had to be soon.
On her way out of town, Annie slowed the Volvo and turned onto
