The Night Is Forever

window or shoot up a door. My guess is that this was just a trial run, a way of testing the waters.”

“So someone’s out to get me—because of what I’ve been saying?” she asked.

Sammy whined and settled at his feet. Dustin leaned down for a moment to pat the dog. When he looked up, she was at the counter, waiting for him to face her, waiting for his reply.

“I would guess that’s it, yes,” he told her. “Here’s the good thing. Whoever’s doing this hasn’t gotten to a point where they’re desperate. This person is just...researching the situation right now.”

“What should I do?”

“Tell everyone you’re getting an alarm system.”

“And then?”

“Get an alarm system.”

“Oh!”

“Listen, no one else believes that Marcus met with foul play. Well, other people might suspect it, but the police found nothing that would lend to more of an investigation than the one that’s been done. You can’t blame them. They found you with a man who was already dead. Thankfully, he’d been dead for hours, or you might’ve ended up as a suspect. But they found a man who’d been an addict dead with heroin in his system. There was no one around and no sign that anyone had been. There were no obvious marks on his body, other than those attributed to the fall.”

“There were also no needles or drug paraphernalia,” she reminded him sharply.

“True, but no addict keeps his stash where it can easily be discovered.”

The coffee gurgled its last and she poured them both cups.

“The attorney’s coming to the Horse Farm today to explain the will and dole out the individual bequests Marcus left.”

“Just go, listen, watch other people. And as soon as possible, call an alarm system company.”

“You don’t think that’s kind of paranoid?”

“Paranoid is better than—” He broke off. He’d been about to say dead. “You’ve heard the old adage a thousand times. Better safe than sorry.”

She smiled at that. She’d known what he’d been about to say. “Would you hang around down here for a few minutes while I go up and get ready for the day?”

“Of course.”

She’d drunk half her coffee. Leaving it, she turned around and dashed up the stairs.

He was going to be sorry to see the beautiful robe go, he thought.

Restlessly, he walked the ground floor of the house, checking windows as he went. The place was sealed tight. He sat in the parlor, thinking about the psychology of what had happened. Whoever had done this wasn’t a serial killer with a penchant for a certain physical type; this was a person or persons with an agenda.

Dustin knew he should be looking for someone who was after something that wasn’t obvious. Or maybe Marcus’s killer had been seeking revenge for some reason. But if revenge was the only agenda, why come after anyone else?

No, fear of discovery had to be the motive for targeting Olivia Gordon. What did she know that she didn’t even realize she knew?

And how far was the killer willing to go to safeguard a secret?

Olivia came down the stairs, Sammy at her heels. It was barely seven and beginning to get light outside.

He rose. “I have an idea. Go to the cafe in your car. I’ll get my own car and follow you. You are allowed to dine with ‘guests’ if you happen to arrive at a restaurant at the same time?”

“Yes, we always run into people at the cafe and there’s never been any kind of policy against sharing a meal. After all, we do the camping trips, Mariah runs her ghost tours... I’m sure that ‘running into you’ will be fine.”

She seemed grateful for the suggestion.

He collected his backpack; she picked up a shoulder bag.

“All right, Olivia, I know I already mentioned this, but it’s important. You need to make it known that you’re hiring an alarm company.”

“What reason would I give for suddenly doing that?”

“You say you heard noises—and that you’re far away from anyone else. You’re just feeling nervous, that’s all.”

“Okay,” she said.

They headed out.

At the door, Sammy whined. “You need to protect the homefront,” Olivia told him, then locked the door, checking it a couple of times.

She got in her car; he waited until she was safe inside, backing out onto the drive. Then he followed. As they approached the cafe, he slowed his car. He wanted her to be there for a few minutes before he joined her.

And yet, he wondered if whoever had attempted entry at her house had been there all the while, hidden somewhere in the trees.

Watching him watch Olivia.

* * *

Olivia was the first customer to arrive at the cafe that morning. Behind the counter, still setting up, Delilah looked at her with surprise. “Liv, honey! What are you doing here so early?”

“Oh, I couldn’t sleep, so I got up and I didn’t feel like my own company,” Olivia explained.

Delilah nodded as if she understood. “I hear ya, honey. I know you people at the Horse Farm have to meet up with Marcus’s attorney this morning. That’s going to be hard for you.”

“I’m okay, Delilah,” Olivia said. And she was, although she felt angry with Marcus. Not the anger that typically came with grief, in which a person was angry about being abandoned by a loved one; she would have recognized such an emotion. No, she was angry with Marcus’s spirit—a spirit who showed up to shock her and then disappeared just when he was needed. A ghost who didn’t bother to return when he’d promised he would.

“I’ve just gotten this new-fangled machine in here.” Delilah pointed at a shiny silver contraption. “Makes a perfect espresso every time, according to the box. You want to try one?”

“Hmm. I’d love a cup of regular coffee—with a shot of espresso,” Olivia said.

“Hey, great idea. Maybe I should try one of those myself. I’ve been working long hours lately. My waitress —you remember that sweet young thing, Genie?—she took off for Nashville last week. Decided she was going to get a job in the city. Can’t say as I blame her. I mean, folks out here like country and the city is close enough...but a young girl? She needed more. So, anyway, to make a long story short, I’ve been filling in mornings and nights. But I own the place and Steve back there has been my cook for the past twenty years. Reckon we’ll make it till we get some help.” Delilah grinned wickedly. Steve was her husband as well as her chief cook and bottle washer.

“If I hear of anyone looking for work, I’ll send them your way,” Olivia said. She pulled out her smartphone and started looking for area alarm companies.

“What ya doin’, honey? Can I help?” Delilah asked.

“Oh, I’m going to get an alarm system installed,” Olivia replied.

“Out here? We never have trouble out here. Of course, I’ve got my man and a shotgun if anyone’s going to give me trouble!”

Olivia shook her head. “I don’t have a man or a shotgun.”

Delilah wagged a finger at her. “You should get yourself a man, Liv. Pretty little thing like you. Just ’cause that ornery Bill Preston decided to up and head on out of your life... And that was more than a year ago!”

Olivia sighed. She’d been in an almost-live-in relationship with a music promoter. After a trip to Austin, he’d discovered some great opportunities there. It had come time for her to weigh the importance of the relationship. She hadn’t been in love. Not enough to leave.

“Bill’s a good guy—we were just going different places, Delilah.”