The Edge of Eternity Page 7

  Elizabeth shook her head, but she was smiling.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked as he sat down and made himself comfortable.

  “I don’t know. What you said about being quiet as a church mouse. It made me picture what you’d look like in one of those mouse hats from Disney World.”

  “I’ve always looked good in hats,” he said lightly. “Even one with ears.”

  Elizabeth’s laugh was like music to him. He was starved for the sound, but she almost instantly sobered. “Paul, about what I said earlier…”

  “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not okay. I don’t know why I said those things to you. I don’t know what came over me. It was as if…I wanted to hurt you.”

  “You thought I was having an affair.”

  “I don’t now.”

  “That’s a relief.”

  “You’re a good man, Paul,” she whispered. “You’ve been a good husband.”

  He had a difficult time swallowing past the sudden lump in his throat. “It means a lot to hear you say that.”

  They were both silent for a long time, then Elizabeth said almost in exasperation, “For God’s sake, you look so uncomfortable in that chair. Go back to your room and get some sleep. You probably have a busy day tomorrow.”

  “I have a meeting with Boyd Carter at two. I thought we could hike up to the waterfall before that if you feel up to it. No ulterior motive,” he added quickly. “It’s a beautiful spot. I thought you might like to see it.”

  “I would.”

  “Good. Then get some sleep.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’m fine where I am for now.” He reached over and turned out the light.

  “Don’t stay there all night,” Elizabeth warned from the darkness.

  “I won’t. Just until you fall asleep.”

  She didn’t say anything else, and after a few moments Paul could tell from the sound of her soft breathing that she’d fallen back asleep. He was surprised she’d dozed off so quickly. It sometimes took her hours to go back to sleep after a nightmare.

  He was glad, though. She needed her rest. He was worried about her. Her earlier accusations had been disquieting enough, but now with the nightmare…

  Paul was very much afraid that Elizabeth was still balanced on an emotional edge. He wondered if he should give Dr. Summers a call, but if the therapist had come up here to relax, Paul would be the last person he’d want to hear from. Their last conversation back in the city had ended in an argument, with Paul accusing him of trying to turn Elizabeth against him. He’d apologized for his temper, and Dr. Summers had promised not to mention the confrontation to Elizabeth. But Paul wasn’t so sure how far he trusted Summers these days. It wouldn’t be the first time a therapist fell for his patient.

  Finally succumbing to exhaustion, Paul laid his head against the back of the chair, but every time he closed his eyes, the room seemed to grow chillier. It was only his imagination, of course, but something seemed to be warning him not to drift off.

  Sitting up in the chair, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and glanced out the terrace doors where the mist had thickened. It coiled and writhed against the glass, and for a moment it almost appeared to Paul that the vapor was trying to get back in.

  He rubbed his eyes again.

  Maybe he was the one who needed a shrink.

  Chapter Six

  Elizabeth had already made coffee by the time Paul got up the next morning. She was having her first cup when he came out of his room and she was stunned by his appearance. He always left for work earlier than she did, so their paths rarely crossed in the mornings. She’d forgotten how he looked all freshly shaved and hair still damp from his shower.

  He was dressed as she was in jeans and a sweater, and on first glance he looked years younger than his age. Then she saw the dark circles under his eyes and winced.

  “Did you get any sleep last night?”

  “Enough.” He came over and poured himself a cup of coffee. “How about you?”

  “I was out like a light.” Which was surprising. Normally she remained restless for hours after a nightmare. Maybe this place really did have therapeutic qualities, although Elizabeth had to wonder if her restful sleep had more to do with Paul’s presence than anything else.

  She gave him a guilty look. “You spent the night in that chair, didn’t you? It can’t have been very comfortable.”

  He shrugged as he sipped his coffee. “I fell asleep, so it couldn’t have been that bad. I woke up just after dawn and moved into the other room.”

  “Thanks for waking me up last night,” Elizabeth murmured. “And for staying with me. You really didn’t have to do that.”

  “I didn’t mind.” He didn’t seem to want to talk about it anymore. He carried his coffee over to the window and stared out. “What are your plans for the day?”

  “I thought we were going to hike up to the waterfall.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “You want to do that? It looks as if it might start raining any second now.”

  Elizabeth set aside her cup and stood. “We’re Seattleites. A little rain can’t stop us.”

  Her positive response seemed to surprise him. “Okay. If that’s what you want. Better take a jacket, though. Something waterproof if you have one.”

  She went to retrieve her jacket and then they set out. Once they left the hotel grounds, the paved trail ended and became little more than a dirt path that led back into the woods.

  In spite of the clouds, the scenery was breathtaking—a lush Jurassic forest of giant firs, moss and ferns. Elizabeth wouldn’t have been surprised to see the water in the rocky creek bed quake from some distant dinosaur footfall.

  As they neared the waterfall, the quiet was broken by the sound of rushing water and the air became noticeably cooler. A fine mist descended over them as they topped an incline and stood on a rocky cliff.

  A ten-foot scramble up another slippery rise would have put them at the summit. Elizabeth could see rocks forming a natural bridge across the crest of the waterfall, but to cross to the other side would be an extremely risky endeavor. When she moved to the edge of the bluff, she could look over and see the water crashing against giant boulders twenty feet down. She doubted anyone could survive a fall like that.

  As she started to move back, her foot slipped on the damp moss. Paul’s hand shot out to pull her away from the edge.

  “Don’t get too close,” he warned. “It’s slippery up here, and you almost gave me a heart attack.”

  “How about if I sit over here and watch from a distance?” Elizabeth walked over and sat down on a fallen log.

  “Good idea,” Paul agreed. He turned back to the water, and they both fell silent. Elizabeth didn’t know why, but there was something deeply spiritual about the place. It was almost like being in a chapel.

  After a while the sun came out, and in the dappled light that filtered through the lacy canopy, tiny rainbows danced across the water. Elizabeth took it as a sign.

  And then she felt it. That familiar brush against her fingers.

  She couldn’t see him, of course. But he was there, sitting on the log beside her. She could feel him. She closed her eyes and drank in his scent.

  After a moment she checked to see if Paul had noticed, but his gaze was still on the rushing water.

  A butterfly caress against her cheek and then he was gone.

  She looked up to find Paul watching her strangely. “Are you okay?”

  Elizabeth raised her hand to her cheek. “I was just…wishing that I’d brought my camera.”

  “We’re not leaving until Tuesday. We’ll have plenty of time to come back.”

  Today was Friday. They still had three more days of the long weekend to get through, but somehow those days didn’t stretch out endlessly as they once had when Elizabeth had contemplated the trip. This spot, this time with Paul…

  Things were changing between them. Her resolve was weakening, and thei
r growing closeness made her apprehensive. What if their feelings weren’t real but only a memory of what they’d once had? Did she really want to put herself through an emotional roller coaster to find out? She’d been through so much already. An agonizing decision had been made. It was too late to go back. It was time for both of them to move on.

  And yet at that moment all she wanted to do was put her hand in Paul’s and let him feel where their son had touched her. She desperately wanted that connection with him, but Paul wouldn’t understand. How could he? Elizabeth didn’t understand it herself. She didn’t believe in ghosts. She knew her son’s spirit hadn’t touched her on the hand and kissed her cheek. It was only his memory.

  Even so, as soon as Paul left that afternoon for his meeting with Boyd Carter, Elizabeth grabbed her camera and jacket and headed back to the waterfall.

  The sun was still shining, but somehow the woods seemed more foreboding now, probably because she was alone. She topped the incline and stood on the cliff watching the pounding water. The temperature had dropped so low that even her jacket couldn’t keep out the cold. Shivering, she waited and waited, but nothing happened. No brush against her fingers. No whisper-soft caress against her cheek.

  As she stood huddled in her coat, she heard a strange cry and glanced skyward to see a vulture circling overhead. Another one came and then another. Soon there were dozens swooping down to settle in the trees all around her.

  Elizabeth felt a chill like nothing she’d ever experienced before as she gazed up into those trees. It was almost as if the vultures were waiting for something—or someone—to die.

  A twig snapped behind her and she whirled in shock. “What are you doing here?”

  Nina Wilson shrugged as she brushed by Elizabeth to stand at the edge of the precipice. “Enjoying the scenery, same as you are.”

  Elizabeth moved away from her. “I thought you’d gone back to the city.”

  “Why would you think that?” Nina asked absently as she gazed down where the water beat against the boulders. She was dressed in jeans and a waterproof jacket with a hood that hid her flaming hair. Shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket, she moved even closer to the edge.

  “I heard Paul’s phone conversation with you last night,” Elizabeth said. “He told me everything.”

  Nina gave her a sidelong look. “Everything? Oh, I doubt that. Besides, I didn’t talk to Paul after we left the party.”

  Elizabeth’s heart began to knock against her chest. “You didn’t call him on his cell phone?”

  “Why should I when I knew I’d be seeing him later?” Nina turned then and smiled at Elizabeth. “I don’t mean to be so blunt, but we might as well get everything out in the open, hadn’t we? It’s better for everyone.”

  “I already know that you’re in love with my husband,” Elizabeth said coldly.

  “Did he tell you that?” Nina shrugged. “Okay, then, yes, I’m in love with Paul. And he loves me, too.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  She gave Elizabeth a pitying smile. “Well, you would have if you could have seen him with me last night.” She reached out suddenly and touched her fingertip to the tiny diamond crescent Elizabeth wore at her throat. “Lovely,” she murmured. “A present from Paul?”

  A shudder ripped through Elizabeth, and she jerked away from the woman’s touch. “You and Paul weren’t together last night. He was with me. We had a late dinner.”

  Something flickered in Nina Wilson’s green eyes. Anger, yes, but with it a hint of obsession. Elizabeth’s gaze fell to the woman’s hands. She’d shoved them back into her jacket pockets.

  “And after you had dinner?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  Nina laughed. “You can’t pull it off, you know. You don’t have the face for a bluff like that.” Her expression turned sly. “You may have had a late dinner together, but what about afterward? You can’t keep track of your husband’s every move when you don’t share the same bedroom with him.”

  Elizabeth stood frozen in shock. How could Nina have known that? Elizabeth had never confided the intimate details of her and Paul’s relationship to anyone except Dr. Summers. And maybe Frankie. But no one else.

  Not that it mattered. Their bedroom arrangement was no one else’s business. What mattered was how the woman had found out. She couldn’t have known unless Paul had told her.

  No, that wasn’t true. There were other ways for a clever woman like Nina to find out what she needed.

  And she was clever. The shrewdness was there in her eyes, along with the obsession.

  Elizabeth shivered. “Not that it’s any of your con cern, but as it happens, I do know my husband’s whereabouts last evening. He was with me all night.”

  Anger flashed again in Nina’s eyes, and her laugh now sounded brittle and forced. “You’re lying. Paul hasn’t slept with you in ages.”

  “Why don’t we go ask him?” Elizabeth challenged. “I’d love to see my husband’s reaction when he hears what you have to say.”

  “He would say and do anything to keep you appeased until a divorce settlement is reached,” Nina countered as she turned back to the waterfall. “Don’t you get that? Don’t you get that Paul is through with you? He needs a real woman in his life and in his bed. Not some cold fish—”

  As she said the last word, her feet slipped on the wet moss, and for a moment she hovered at the edge of the cliff, her arms flailing wildly.

  And then Elizabeth grabbed her and pulled her to safety.

  The woman spun, obviously shaken. She put a hand to her heart as she stared wild-eyed at Elizabeth. “What the hell is wrong with you? You almost killed me!”

  Her words were like a physical blow. Elizabeth stumbled back from her. “What are you talking about? You slipped and I grabbed you.”

  “You pushed me!” Nina’s eyes were still wide with shock. “I felt your hand on my back.”

  “I didn’t push you,” Elizabeth whispered. “It wasn’t me.”

  “Stop lying! We both know what happened.” Nina brushed past Elizabeth then and stalked toward the path. Turning, she said over her shoulder, “Paul’s right. You really are insane.”

  AFTER HIS MEETING WITH Boyd Carter, Paul headed for the lobby. He waited until the crowd had dispersed from around the front desk before approaching the clerk.

  The man looked up with a friendly smile. “May I help you?”

  “I hope so. I’m looking for someone—a man named Roland Latimer. Could you ring his room for me?”

  “One moment, sir.”

  The clerk typed the name into the computer, waited a moment, then glanced up. “I’m afraid we don’t have anyone registered by that name.”

  Paul frowned. “I know he’s here. He was at the party last night.”

  The clerk shrugged apologetically. “I’m sorry, sir. There’s no one registered by that name.”

  “Maybe he’s an employee,” Paul suggested.

  “The name doesn’t sound familiar to me.” The desk clerk’s smile faded as he grew a bit impatient. “And at any rate, I don’t have access to employee records.”

  Paul’s voice hardened as he leaned across the counter. “Then let me talk to someone who does. Immediately.”

  The man started to balk, then, sensing Paul’s mood, nodded. “One moment.”

  He disappeared through a doorway behind the desk and returned a few minutes later with a polished thirty-something woman with a no-nonsense smile and a name tag that identified her as an assistant manager.

  “May I help you?” she asked briskly.

  “I’m looking for a man named Roland Latimer. He was at the party last night, so I assume he’s either a guest or an employee here at the hotel. I need to have a word with him.”

  A shadow flickered across the woman’s face. She didn’t strike him as the type of person to be easily intimidated, but he detected the barest hint of a nervous twitch at the corner of her left eye, as if he’d said somethin
g to upset her. “We show no record of anyone having registered under that name, nor is he an employee. The man you’re looking for is probably a local.”

  “Really?” Paul wasn’t convinced. “I was under the impression that everyone invited here this weekend is somehow connected to the hotel.”

  “Yes, most of our guests this weekend have an affiliation in one way or another to Fernhaven, but it’s not unusual to have a gate-crasher at these events.” She hesitated, as if not quite sure how to proceed. “I suggest you drive into the village and ask around about this man. The main highway will take you straight into Cedar Cove. You’ll see a place on the right called the Front Street Diner. You can’t miss it. A woman named Audrey Sylvester runs the place. From what I hear, she knows most everyone who lives around here. She should be able to help you.”

  Paul had a feeling the assistant manager was being purposefully evasive, but he also knew that it would be unproductive to try and coerce more information from her. He’d only alienate her, and he might need her help in the future if Latimer showed up at the hotel again.

  Nodding his thanks, he left the lobby and had his car brought around. He was on the road in less than five minutes.

  The tiny village of Cedar Cove was a thirty-minute drive from the hotel and accessible only by a bridge that had been badly damaged in a recent flood. The bridge had been repaired, but the water was still so high in places that the mist hovering over the surface crept through the metal guardrails, creating an odd, dizzying sensation as Paul drove across.

  A sign on the side of the road warned him to decrease his speed as he approached the city limits. The two-lane highway turned into Front Street, and as he cruised along the shady thoroughfare, he searched for the diner. He’d almost driven past the weathered redbrick building before he spotted the words Front Street Diner painted in black across the plate-glass window. Finding a parking place on the street, he got out and backtracked to the diner.

  A bell over the door announced his arrival, and the few patrons scattered about the tables stared at him openly as he walked over to the counter and took a seat on one of the old-fashioned stools.