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.Investigators suspected arson.No one had been inside the house.“The Encounter fire was caused by an engine explosion,” Riley said for no reason.Her mind was skipping around, trying to make connections where none necessarily existed.“It was an old ship.A refitted minesweeper from the fifties.I just figured it was one of those things.But Sam blamed Emile.”“Riley, we’re not going to make sense of this tonight.”“It’s so…” She threw up her hands, let them fall to her sides as she felt her frustration build.At least for a few minutes, with Straker in the car, she’d been unable to think.“It’s unbelievable Emile was heading for Sam’s place right as it went up in flames.”“But you didn’t see him there,” Straker said.“I wonder if he was set up, if someone tipped him off….” She stopped, her stomach twisting.“What about Matt? Why was he there? Damn.If you hadn’t come along, I might have caught up with him.”“And done what?”“I don’t know.Made him tell me what’s going on.He must know something.What if Sam said something to him on Mount Desert last week?” She paced, another call coming in; she ignored it.“I suppose I should tell Sig.”Straker flipped off the television.“And what would that accomplish?”“Matt’s her husband—”“So?”Riley didn’t answer.Straker headed into her kitchen, his calm a distinct contrast to her growing agitation.So many questions, fears, countless stabs of doubt.What if she made the wrong decision? What if she did the wrong thing? She stood in the kitchen doorway and watched as he filled a kettle with water.“What are you doing?”“Making you tea.If you don’t settle down, you’re going to blow a gasket.”“I’m not going to blow a gasket.”Not just agitated, she thought.Contrary, too.Argumentative.Straker ignored her and rummaged through an assortment of teas she had in a basket on her counter.It was an older kitchen, charming, serviceable.He seemed as at ease there as he did anywhere.He chose a chamomile tea bag and dangled it in a mug.The phone rang.She snatched up the portable and hurled it across the room.Straker eyed her knowingly.“See?”She could hear her message machine taking the call in the next room.Her mother’s voice came on.“Riley? Are you there? Your father just phoned.He told me about the fire at Sam’s.He’s worried about you.I am, too.Call me—”Riley grabbed the portable off the floor where she’d hurled it.“Hi, it’s me.Mom, I’m fine.There’s no need to worry.”Straker arched a brow at her.Her mother gasped in relief, half sobbing.“Riley! Oh, thank God.I was afraid you were caught in the fire.After the Encounter…” She couldn’t go on.“Are you sure you’re okay?”“Yes.” She made an instant decision not to give her mother all the details about her evening.Emile, Matt, her presence at the fire.Kissing Straker in his beat-up Subaru.“Thanks for checking up on me.”“I hate the thought of you being there alone.”In her mother’s view, having Straker camped out on her futon might be worse than being alone.He poured boiling water into her mug.Naturally he was listening.He was on alert at all times, never mind when a suspicious death and a suspicious fire were at hand.It was his nature.His training.“Riley?”“Sorry.I’m a little distracted.The past few days haven’t been easy, that’s all.”“You can always stay with your father.” He had a studio apartment in the North End of Boston, getting up to Camden when he could.“You know that, don’t you?”“Of course.”“And me—you’re welcome here.”“Thanks.”Her mother sucked in a breath, and Riley could predict what was coming next.“Your father told me about Matt’s behavior tonight.It’s inexcusable.Was John Straker outside?”“As a matter of fact, yes, he was.”“But that was none of your doing,” her mother said.“No.” It was the truth, as far as it went.“Good.I know he’s an FBI agent, but I can’t…” She paused.“I have my doubts about him, that’s all.I can’t help it [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]