Don`t Close Your Eyes

2

Natalie slowly opened her eyes. Morning sun filtered dimly through delicate willow-patterned curtains. A beautiful green coverlet lay over her drowsy body. She drew a deep, lazy breath, then shot up in bed, her dark gaze frantically searching for the clock. Nine! She was due at Anicare an hour ago. She was on the Sunday morning shift. What had happened to the alarm?

Reality rushed back. She closed her eyes in relief and leaned back against the pillows. She wasn't at Anicare because she was officially on vacation-on vacation from her job, on vacation from Kenny Davis. She was back in Port Ariel in her old room and unless her nose deceived her, she smelled bacon and eggs frying.

Natalie stretched, yawned, considered going back to sleep for a few minutes, then thought of the breakfast being prepared for her. Under normal circumstances breakfast consisted of a bagel or an English muffin eaten on the run.

She was swinging her legs out of bed when her father yelled, "Natalie, breakfast! Hurry up before I eat it all!"

She smiled wryly. He'd been saying the same thing since her mother left twenty-three years ago when Natalie was six. He'd always seemed to think cooking breakfast for her could make up for any emotional trauma-a runaway mother, a faithless lover.

"Be right there, Dad," she called, looking around the room for her robe. It lay on the white bedroom chair, a beautiful splash of pale green-and-pink silk. She wished desperately she had brought another robe. She'd grabbed this one be cause it fit neatly into the suitcase, but just looking at it caused her pain. She'd been so touched when she'd opened the package last Christmas morning and found the exquisite kimono-style robe she'd admired in a store a month before. She didn't think Kenny had been paying attention.

Tears pressed behind her eyes. "Stop it," she told herself firmly. "You're not going to sit around weeping and wailing all day."

She shrugged hurriedly into the robe and brushed her long, black hair back into a ponytail that hung halfway to her waist. A close inspection in the mirror showed that her large dark brown eyes-the eyes with the slight almond slant she'd inherited from her Eurasian mother-showed tiny red lines. She reached for the Visine. Just four margaritas last night at Panache with Lily Peyton and now she had bloodshot eyes. Four was over her limit. After her second, though, it had seemed so good to see Lily again she didn't want the evening to end. After the third, she'd reached the maudlin stage and began describing in what she now realized was excruciating detail the demise of her relationship with Kenny Davis and how she'd come back to Port Ariel "just for a couple of weeks" to get her bearings. Natalie shook her head. What a thrilling night for Lily, but she'd understand.

"Everything is going to be ice-cold if you don't get out here," Natalie's father threatened.

"Coming?" Natalie rushed from her bedroom into the roomy country kitchen filled with morning light. Sunshine bounced off the copper bottoms of cookware hanging above an island range, and plants cascaded from pots sitting around the many windows. Exercising his amateur interest in architecture, Andrew St. John had designed the house for his bride Kira and had it constructed on a beautiful piece of land running down to Lake Erie. Natalie had always loved it. She thought it reflected her father's personality-big, strong, open. The place was built of solid stone to stand up to the heavy northern winds, and glass expanses showed off the spectacular lake view. When she'd first left home and begun living in apartments, she'd felt as if she couldn't get her breath.

"Sorry, Dad," she said, taking her seat and picking up a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice. "I'm not used to being served breakfast."

"That boyfriend of yours not willing to cook a simple meal now and then?" Andrew asked, scooping up scrambled eggs.

Natalie set down her glass, groaning silently. Her father had never liked Kenny Davis with his golden blond hair, movie star features, and easy charm. "He's too slick," Andrew declared after one brief encounter. "I don't trust him." She'd dismissed her father's assessment. What was it based on? she asked herself then. Nothing but the fact that Kenny was handsome. Now it appeared that Andrew had been right-Kenny wasn't trustworthy. She wasn't ready to capitulate to Andrew's judgment, however. As angry as she was with Kenny, Natalie still felt compelled to defend him. "Kenny is very busy, Dad. He is a brilliant veterinarian," she said as Andrew set a plate heaped with food in front of her.

"Yes, a vet, not an M.D."

"Dad, I'm a vet."

"Who should have been an M.D."

Natalie sighed. This was an old argument. Old and impossible for her to win. Years ago Andrew had decided his daughter would become a surgeon like him. She'd balked. She had wanted to be a veterinarian since she was twelve, and she'd done exactly as she pleased. Andrew had not been happy about her career choice. He hadn't been happy about the most important romantic involvement of her life, either.

"Dad, I love animals and I love being a vet," she said patiently. "And as for Kenny, he didn't cook breakfast for me and I didn't cook breakfast for him. Anicare is the biggest animal clinic in Columbus. We were both on the run." She was determined not to belittle Kenny in front of her father even if he was the reason she'd dragged her hurt and embarrassed self back to Port Ariel.

Her mind drifted to three days ago when she'd come home early. Walking in on Kenny passionately having sex in their bed had destroyed an already eroding relationship. She'd suspected infidelities, but suspecting and actually seeing were different. She'd never felt such shock as she had when confronted by the sight of Kenny in flagrante delicto. She'd stood frozen in the doorway until the sweating pair finally noticed her.

"Natalie!" Kenny had exclaimed, his blue eyes flying wide beneath his tousled hair. "This isn't-"

"What it seems?" she asked, amazed by her calm voice when her entire body seemed to be quivering. "What is it?"

"Natalie, shut the door. Go downstairs and-"

"And let you continue?" She'd glared at the flushed young redhead wearing diamond stud earrings and nothing else. "I've seen you at the clinic. You have that white poodle Snickers. What a ridiculous name! He has a horrible disposition." Natalie couldn't stop babbling as the reality of the situation fought for acceptance in her mind. "No wonder he's always irritable. You drag him in constantly and there's nothing wrong with him. Now I know the reason for your frequent visits."

"Natalie, please don't turn this into some ridiculous farce," Kenny said in a controlled voice as the woman fumbled frantically for the sheet to cover herself. "We'll talk later."

"I think not," Natalie had replied coldly. "I don't think we will ever talk again."

With that she had descended the stairs of the townhouse, crossed the small foyer, and walked outside. As soon as she closed the door behind her and heard the lock click, she remembered her purse. Her purse on the hall table holding her wallet and keys. The keys to Kenny's condo as well as her car keys. She was not only stranded without money and transportation, she was also denied access to the place she'd called home for the past eight months.

Oh, dear God, she'd thought in despair. Could this get any worse? Humiliated, she had rung the doorbell repeatedly until a blazing-eyed Kenny swung open the door wearing only an old pair of jeans. "Why are you doing this?" he'd demanded.

"My purse." Natalie wanted to cry. Her throat was tight and the words grated. She blinked frantically. "Just give me my purse with my keys so I can leave. I'll be back this evening to pack."

"Nat-"

"My purse!"

He'd turned away from the door as tears spilled from her eyes. He retrieved the purse, handed it to her, and watched her stalk to her car.

She'd gone to a good restaurant not crowded at such an early hour, and cried in the restroom for a good twenty minutes. Then she'd applied a lot of powder around her red nose and swollen eyes and sat in the darkened bar for the next three hours. She felt like getting drunk, but the objective part of her knew oblivion wasn't the answer. Instead she'd slowly sipped two small glasses of Chablis and wished she had a friend to talk to. For the first time she realized she had no really good friends in Columbus. Kenny had monopolized her time. No, she'd let him monopolize her time. She hadn't made close friends here because they might interfere with her time with Kenny. Her friends were back home in Port Ariel. Her very best friend from childhood, Lily Peyton, was there. Suddenly the place Natalie grudgingly visited only twice a year was where she wanted to be more than anywhere in the world.

When she'd returned that evening, Kenny looked miserable. "Now you can explain," she said.

"I can't. I mean I don't have a good explanation. I guess I just panicked. We've been in this semi-marriage situation for months and I got scared. Commitment. The old phobia."

"Did you hear that on a morning talk show?" she'd asked scornfully.

"No. It's the truth, Nat."

"How many times, Kenny? How many times in the last eight months have you gotten scared and done something like this?"

"Never."

He was lying. She'd stared at him for a moment and walked upstairs. He followed, watching her desolately as she began taking her clothes out of the closet. "Stay with me, sweetheart," he said softly. "We love each other. We'll get engaged."

She had glared at him. "You've just told me you're afraid of commitment, you spent the afternoon in bed with another woman, and now you're asking me to marry you?"

"Yes. I'm serious."

"I don't want to hear it," she'd snapped, throwing another blouse into the already overstuffed suitcase. "My father was right about you. I should have listened to him."

"You did," Kenny finally shot back furiously. "Your whole life is about defying him. I always thought half of your attraction to me was the fact that he couldn't stand me."

Now, sitting across the breakfast table from her father, Natalie wondered if Kenny was right. She gazed at Andrew with his husky build, his thick white hair, his piercing dark eyes. He'd lived in Port Ariel all his life and been an admired surgeon here for thirty years. The townspeople's respect and affection for him only increased after his flighty wife Kira ran off to join, a California commune in the late seventies and left him with a young daughter to raise. He'd devoted himself to Natalie. She loved him. He loved her and clung too desperately, fearing he'd lose her just like he'd lost Kira. He was strict, unrelenting, smothering. He'd wanted her to be perfect. And docile. Natalie was anything except docile and his attempts to turn her into a sweet, spun-sugar concoction of a little girl only made matters worse. They'd argued incessantly since she was six. She'd never been able to please him. She'd never stopped trying.

"Are you thinking about Kenny?" Andrew asked abruptly.

"No," Natalie answered truthfully.

"You won't tell me why you're really here, but I suspect you two had a real blowup."

No, she hadn't told him the truth behind her visit. It was too humiliating. Besides, she wasn't sure she would not be able to forgive Kenny and return to him. She didn't want to give Andrew any more ammunition to dislike him if that were the case. Besides, she didn't think she could discuss something so personal as Kenny's infidelity with her father.

"Dad, I just wanted to spend some time back home."

"Then why hasn't Kenny called?"

"He did. Yesterday when you were out," she said, feeling no necessity to tell him she'd slammed the phone down on him. This was none of Andrew's business and she shot him a look that told him so.

He relented. "Eggs okay?"

"Great." Except I don't want them, Natalie thought. I'd rather have a bagel. I'm not used to all this heavy food in the morning.

Andrew was having no trouble with his. He ate like a lumberjack and never put on a pound. All the outside work he did, Natalie thought. He always had some project going. If he wasn't improving his property, he was helping someone else.

"Try that bacon. Thick-sliced. Really good," he said.

"I don't eat meat."

"A little meat isn't going to kill you."

"I don't want to eat meat so please get off my back. After all, you don't drink."

"Alcohol is bad for you. Meat isn't." He looked up. "And speaking of alcohol and those bloodshot eyes of yours, did you have a wild time with Lily Peyton last night?"

Here we go, Natalie thought. Still the judgmental father chastising the forever-child. "We had fun, not a wild time. We went to Panache. I had alcohol and lived to tell."

"Humph." The famous, disapproving humph. "How is Lily?" Andrew asked. "Still got that store downtown?"

"It's called Curious Things and doing very well. So is Lily."

"A hellraiser. Her father let her get away with anything and her mother was too meek to object. I always wished you'd been closer to Tamara."

Natalie put down her fork. "Lily is not and never was a hellraiser. She just likes to have fun. Tamara is more sedate."

"You mean boring."

"I mean sedate." Her father didn't look at her. He simply made pronouncements like God on high and never saw the need to justify his remarks. Natalie felt her back stiffening with the old tension, then forced herself to relax. I will not be baited into an argument that upsets me a hell of a lot more than it does him, she vowed silently. Taking a deep breath she said, "Lily and I are going to lunch today. Want to go with us?"

Andrew looked up, his eyes widening as if she'd just invited him to a slumber party. "Lunch! What in the world would I have to talk with you two about?"

"Oh, I don't know," Natalie said airily. "Boys. Makeup. Curfews. Our paltry allowances. The usual things twenty nine-year-old career women discuss."

Her father stared at her for a moment before a grin cracked the stone of his face. "Okay. I keep forgetting you're not thirteen."

"I noticed. And thank goodness I'm not. My teen years were miserable."

Andrew shoveled in more scrambled eggs. "Don't be silly. You were the smartest girl in your class, the most popular, and the prettiest."

Natalie burst into laughter, almost choking on her orange juice. "Dad, being the smartest girl in your class isn't a plus when you're a teenager." She dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. "I was popular with girls but not with boys, and as for being pretty, I was skinny and I had braces. You wouldn't let me have contacts and forced me to wear those glasses with the horrid blue frames. I was a geek."

Andrew shook his head. "Never believed in contacts. And you've always exaggerated. You were lovely. You looked just like your mother when she was your age."

Her mother, who had never even allowed her daughter to call her "Mom." She was always "Kira." And she had left both of them. One day she was there, the next she was gone, off to join a commune. They hadn't heard from her for over six months after she left. "Don't ever compare me to that woman," Natalie said with quiet venom.

Andrew's white eyebrows slammed together. "That woman is your mother," he said fiercely.

"Being a mother involves a hell of a lot more than giving birth, so don't tell me about how much respect I owe Kira St. John, no matter where she's living with and with what man-"

"Do not say anything else!" her father erupted. He took a couple of deep breaths and looked out the huge kitchen window at beautiful Lake Erie beyond. Last night's storm had left the surface littered with leaves and twigs, but the smooth water reflected the sun and puffy clouds. Harvey Coombs from next door already sat in his rowboat, fishing diligently, stained canvas hat jammed on his bald head. He'd once been a brilliant chemistry teacher. Then alcoholism had taken control of his life.

"Kira has always been the flashpoint between the two of us," Andrew said finally.

"Which would please her because it means she's the center of attention. But, Dad, I really don't want to talk about Kira. I want you to understand about Lily. No one else had a mother who ran off to join a commune. The other kids teased me mercilessly about my crazy mother. Lily defended me like a pit bull. She's always been my best friend and she always will be."

"She encouraged you to sneak out your bedroom window at night and roam around with her."

"All we did was go to The Blue Lady and work on our music."

"The Blue Lady Resort!" Andrew looked appalled. "I had no idea that's where you went. The hotel burned down!"

"Not the dance pavilion. We thought it was romantic. And the acoustics were great."

"Acoustics? Who cares about acoustics? It suffered damage from the fire. It's not safe. It should have been condemned years ago."

"It's still romantic."

"A long time ago it was romantic. The hotel was lavish. The pavilion was beautiful, built out over the water. Some of the biggest bands in the country played there. Quite the tourist draw. Then there was that awful business in 1970."

"In the hotel, not the pavilion. The hotel is gone."

"I don't care. The pavilion is a wreck. A danger. It should be destroyed."

"It should be restored. You're handy with a hammer and nails. Maybe you should do it. It would give you something to fill up your empty life."

Andrew scowled. "I don't have an empty life."

"I know you have your medical practice and your gardening and fishing and those civic clubs you belong to, but I'm talking about a real life."

"Define real life."

"Companionship."

"I see Harvey Coombs next door regularly."

"A wonderful companion. When he drinks too much he thinks you were CIA operatives together."

"And many dangerous missions we worked if you'd only give him a chance to tell you about them."

" Harvey should have written novels, not taught chemistry. I'm serious, Dad. You should see someone romantically."

"I did. Viveca Cosgrove."

Natalie rolled her eyes. "Three years ago and not for long, thank goodness. Oh, I know she's beautiful but she's such a snob and she can't seem to stay with a man. She broke things off with you so she could date Eugene Farley who was too young for her."

"And I thought I was the judgmental one," Andrew said dryly.

Natalie ignored him. "He was completely out of his depth with someone like Viveca and look what she did to him."

"You didn't even know Eugene Farley," Andrew said quietly. "And his death was not Viveca's fault."

"Not directly, but she was the root of the problem. Thank heavens she's ancient history," Natalie said briskly. "What worries me is that you haven't dated anyone since her."

"Who says?"

"Come on, Dad."

He drained his coffee mug and pushed his chair back from the table. "I happen to be seeing someone now."

Natalie's eyes widened. "What? Who?"

"I'm not telling you. You'll be driving past her house, asking your friends all kinds of personal questions about her, maybe even dropping by her place to offer free veterinary service to her cat just to get in the front door."

"I wouldn't dream of prying into your life any more than you'd pry into mine," Natalie said slyly.

Andrew rose, gathered his dishes, and carried them to the sink. "You have many wonderful qualities, Natalie, but subtlety isn't one of them. You'll find out about her when I'm ready for you to. That is if you stay long enough."

"Oh, Dad, that isn't fair!" Natalie exclaimed. "A bribe to get me to stay?"

"I like to look at it as an incentive."

"You think you're pretty smart, don't you?" Natalie asked. "Well, don't be too pleased with yourself. You've already given away something about her."

"And what would that be, Detective?"

"She has a cat."

Andrew smiled. "Good luck tracing her in a city of twenty thousand people with that piece of vital information." He turned on the faucet, drenched his dishes in water, and looked up at her. "I have work to do. Enjoy yourself today and Natalie, for once, try to stay out of trouble."

Lily was picking her up at twelve-thirty for lunch. Dinner and clubbing last night, lunch today. I'm turning into a regular party girl, Natalie thought. Well, what better way to get over a broken heart? Except that this round of socializing couldn't go on forever. She needed to make a decision about Kenny.

Natalie shook her head. She'd promised herself a week of relaxation with old friends. Next week she'd try to figure out the rest of her life. Right now all she needed to figure out was whether to wear a chain of silver or gold with her pale blue blouse. Silver. She tossed her long hair to one side and fastened the chain. First major decision of the day. "Natalie, you're making fantastic progress," she told her reflection in the mirror as she applied sienna-colored lipstick.

The doorbell rang. Her father claimed he had errands.before rounds at the hospital and had left over two hours ago. Natalie thought he'd taken flight because he feared she and Lily might drag him to lunch. No matter. It was better to have Lily to herself. She might be able to find out something about Andrew's mysterious new girlfriend.

When she opened the door, Natalie marveled as always at Lily's youthful appearance. Her long blond hair hung thick and straight to her shoulders with a fringe of bangs across her forehead. She wore tan linen slacks and a matching jacket over a green silk shell. Her large hazel eyes sparkled. She'd pushed her designer sunglasses atop her head and she flashed an impish grin. "How much trouble did you get into for not coming home until one a.m? Drunk."

"Dad pretended to be asleep, but I know he wasn't. Still, he didn't rise to deliver a lecture. He doesn't want to drive me away in just three days, so he's going easy."

"That won't last long. Your father is a good man, Natalie, but he never did cut you much slack. Hey, are you starving!"

"No," Natalie said as she stepped out on the porch and pulled the door shut behind her. "Dad fixed me a huge breakfast."

"He is working hard to keep you here. I live alone so I had a stale doughnut and a cup of lukewarm coffee. I could eat one of the hamburger deluxe platters at The Hearth. And a big piece of cheesecake with raspberry sauce."

"I will never understand how you and Tamara eat so much and stay so thin. What are you? One-ten soaking wet?" Natalie asked, climbing into Lily's red Corvette. Ever since Lily was twelve, she'd wanted a red Corvette.

"One hundred and fifteen," Lily said. "My sister, however, has dropped at least five pounds. Maybe more."

Natalie picked up the serious note in her voice. "Are you worried about her?"

"A little. She is so obsessed with pleasing Warren and she thinks he's unhappy because she hasn't gotten pregnant."

"Does he really want a child?"

Lily shrugged. "I don't know. I've never seen him display any fondness for children, but something's wrong with him. He's irritable and nervous." They roared out of the driveway and shot away from the house. Lily drove like a professional race car driver. "Warren Hunt wasn't my choice for my sister. He's too controlling."

"Tamara isn't as independent as you. I think she likes his domination."

"Maybe, but he's not my cup of tea."

"Which is good because he's married to your sister."

Lily threw back her head and laughed. She had a deep, hearty laugh that always made Natalie smile. Lily slid a CD into the player. In a moment the speeding car filled with the sounds of Nine Inch Nails.

"Ah, still a lover of the classics," Natalie said. "I made the mistake of mentioning to Dad this morning that we used to go to The Blue Lady to practice our music at night."

"That was so much fun. We were going to call our band 'Fetish.' " Lily giggled. "We thought the name was so shocking! Poor Tam fretted over it for days. She was afraid Mom would have a fit. Like we would have ever made it in the rock world. You were the only one with any talent. When you left Kenny's in a whirlwind, did you remember to bring your guitars?"

"One. Toting it around is second nature to me."

"I'm glad you never stopped playing music like Tam and I did. Speaking of Tam, I've got a great idea. Warren is in Cleveland at some conference. He won't be back until tonight. Why don't we go by and pick her up for lunch? She'd love to see you, and you're not going to die from hunger before we get to the restaurant. I know she's lonely."

"I'd love to have lunch with her. It'll be like old times."

"I'll give her a quick call on the cell phone. She hates being taken by surprise. You know how structured she is."

Lily turned down the music and called. She waited a few moments, then frowned. "No answer."

"So much for lunch. I'll have to see her another time. I won't be leaving for over a week."

Lily slowly put down the phone. "Maybe we should go by her place, anyway."

"But you said she hates surprises."

"She does, but something isn't right. Even though she'd already turned me down about going to Panache last night, I called right before we left. I thought it was worth one more shot. No answer."

"Maybe she went to a movie."

Lily shook her head. "When the great Doctor Warren is away, he always calls at ten o'clock. I called around ten- fifteen from Panache. Still no answer. I know I sound like a mother hen, but I need to see about her."

"You have one of your bad feelings, don't you?" Natalie asked. "One of your twin feelings."

Lily looked slightly embarrassed. "Well, I am worried about these unanswered phone calls, but yes, I do have one of my feelings. You probably think I'm crazy, but…"

"I do not think you're crazy," Natalie said as Lily turned right, heading away from the business district and toward the lake. "Even if I. hadn't read so many articles about this mysterious communication twins have, I've seen it in action with you and Tamara."

"We're not as phenomenal as some of the people you see on television, but there have been a couple of spooky times."

"Like when we were twelve and no one could find you. Tamara insisted you were at Ariel Saunders's house. You were-with a broken leg. Everyone assumed Tamara had guessed where you were because we went there sometimes, but she told me she actually saw you in one quick flash lying at the foot of the staircase with your leg twisted under you. She made me promise not to tell anyone about her vision."

"She felt odd about it. She was afraid people would think she was strange. I had a couple of visions about her, too." Natalie noticed that they were going faster-too fast for these roads, but she didn't ask Lily to slow down. Clearly she was worried about her sister. "I'm not having any visions now-not of Tam, at least. But last night I kept dreaming of a dog howling in the rain. It probably had nothing to do with Tam, but every time I woke up from the dream, I'd go back to sleep and dream it again. Anyway, I do have an uneasy feeling. It's probably based on absolutely nothing except that I can't reach her on the phone." She turned a slightly tight smile on Natalie. "Thanks for indulging me, though."

"No problem. If she's home, we might stand a better chance of dragging her out if we approach her in person, right?"

"Right," Lily agreed, her smile broadening.

Natalie looked out the car window. The storm seemed to have blown the atmosphere clean. The sky was cerulean blue with a few clouds hanging like puffs of cotton candy. A light breeze ruffled tree leaves that still bore the fresh green of spring. Cooler temperatures around the lake always resulted in later blooming than in the middle of Ohio where Natalie lived. Although it was June, a few stubborn forsythia bushes held yellow blooms to the sun. On a glorious day like this, she could almost forget her hurt over Kenny Davis. Almost.

"That's Tam's and Warren 's new house," Lily said, pointing ahead to a large Cape Cod painted pale yellow with slate blue shutters.

"I didn't realize it was out of the city limits. It's so near Ariel Saunders's house."

"That place is falling to ruin. It's a shame."

"Why hasn't the County Historical Society done something?"

"Don't you remember that Viveca Cosgrove is Ariel and Zebediah's only surviving descendent? She owns the house. She should donate it to the Historical Society but she wants to sell it to them for an outrageous price."

"That sounds like Viveca."

"Exactly. She's still holding onto that piece of property The Blue Lady is on, too, although Dad tells me she's thinking of selling it to someone who wants to rebuild the hotel."

"I'd love to see the hotel rebuilt!" Natalie paused. "So she's still dating your dad?"

"For a year. I think that's a record for her. Tam and I are not happy about it, but Dad is just over the moon about her."

"Viveca strikes again. I'm glad my father didn't fall for her. At least I don't think he did. How's her daughter Alison?"

"Crazy as a loon, but I'm not supposed to say so." Lily pulled a face. "She's a patient of Warren 's. She used to see some psychiatrist in Toledo, but for some reason she switched, even though Warren is a psychologist and can't prescribe drugs, which I think she needs." Lily slowed down and pulled into the driveway of the Cape Cod. Ahead of them sat a new blue Ford Contour. "That's Tamara's car, but look at it. It's covered with twigs and leaves. They must be from the storm last night. Tam wouldn't leave a car, especially a new one, sitting beneath a tree in a storm. She'd put it in the garage."

"Maybe the garage door is broken," Natalie suggested.

"That happened at Kenny's condo one time. A cable broke and he couldn't get the door up."

"I don't know," Lily said doubtfully. "If that were the case, she would at least have moved it from beneath the tree where a limb could have fallen on it." She got out of the Corvette and headed for the front porch. "Here's the morning newspaper. Tam always reads the paper while she drinks her morning coffee."

Natalie followed Lily across the lawn. Although the sun shone brightly and the temperature was in the mid-seventies, the ground still felt slightly spongy. The rain had lasted for hours last night.

"And look at this living room window!" Lily called, alarm edging her voice. "It's raised about three inches. The sheer curtains are water-stained. Tam would never leave a window up during a storm."

"It's just one window." Natalie tried to sound calm although her own nerves tingled. "It's easy to forget a window."

Lily had backed off the porch and stood on the lawn looking upward. "There's another open window upstairs. It's her bedroom window. Don't tell me she forgot that one!"

There was nothing else comforting Natalie could say. Clearly something was wrong. "Okay, what do we do first? Call the police?"

"The police?" Lily shook her head. "No. Sheriff Purdue would have listened to me, but we've got a new guy from New York City."

" New York City? Here?"

"Yeah. His name is Meredith and he left New York because of some tragedy involving his wife. Anyway, he goes by the book. He'll say Tam hasn't been gone long enough to be declared missing or some damned excuse for not doing anything." She ran her hands through her hair. "Tam usually takes a walk after dinner. Maybe she fell."

Natalie glanced up and down the street with its scattering of large, new houses. "Which direction did she walk?"

"Not the street. Tam walked Hyacinth Lane that leads to Ariel Saunders's house." She walked out onto the lawn and pointed. "Maybe Tam walked all the way to the house. Maybe now she's lying hurt in that house and I didn't sense it because I'm so wrapped up in myself and-"

"Lily!" Natalie shouted, hurrying to catch up with her. "Let's just keep calm until we search the lane and the house."

"And if she's not around?"

"We'll call Warren."

"I don't know where he's staying."

"There can't be that many psychology conventions going on in Cleveland right now. We'll find him."

"And if he didn't talk to Tamara last night?"

"Then we'll have to call your jerk of a sheriff. But let's not go off the deep end. Getting hysterical won't help us find Tamara."

Lily drew a deep breath. "You're right. You were always the voice of reason. It's just that Tam has seemed so unhappy lately, so vulnerable. If only I'd paid more attention to her-" She broke off. "What is that noise?"

Natalie had been vaguely aware of the noise for a few moments. Leaves brushing together. Twigs snapping. They both stood still. Everything went quiet. Even the birds stopped chirping. A line from a Keats poem floated through Natalie's head: "And no birds sang."

"Something's in the brush," Lily hissed.

"I know." Natalie kneeled. "Come here. Come to me. It's all right."

"What are you doing?"

"Lily, be quiet for a minute." Natalie peered into the dense undergrowth. "Come." She held out her hand, palm down. "I won't hurt you," she said in a gentle voice. The words weren't important but the tone was. "It's all right…"

More rustling. Then she saw the head. Long snout, mostly tan. Small ears, brown. Black body. "Come." The dog came to Natalie at a crouch, as if it expected to be struck. When it finally reached her hand, it sniffed twice and whimpered.

"The dog in my dream," Lily murmured.

"I thought in your dream you only heard howling."

"I did, too, until I saw this dog." Lily's voice rose. "Nat, it was this dog howling in the rain. What kind is it?"

"Mixed breed." Natalie stroked the head, then rubbed the ears. The dog rose a bit, losing some of its fear. "I'd say part Airedale." She bent her head. "Female. She's never given birth." The dog now stood at full height. "No collar. Long scratch on the face probably from a locust tree branch."

"It must be a stray," Lily said.

Natalie massaged the dog's neck, noting that its already wiry hair was even stiffer there. Oh, please don't let it have rolled in some foul-smelling dead thing, Natalie prayed. She brought her hands away. They looked reddish, rusty. She sniffed them, then looked at the dog. It whined. Her heart beating faster, Natalie placed gentle hands on either side of the dog's head and tilted it. She wasn't surprised at what she found.

"What is it?" Lily asked. "Your face is pale."

Natalie swallowed. "Lily, this dog has dried blood all over its neck bat there's no sign of injury."

"Which means?"

Natalie didn't want to explain how a dog or wolf might try to protect another's neck. She stood up. "Lily, maybe the dog knows where Tamara is. Maybe it's seen her."

"How do we know that?"

"We don't, but let's walk and see what happens." Natalie turned to the dog. "Come." She tapped her thigh. "Come!"

The dog hesitated for a moment, then came forward. She understood basic commands. Natalie noted the protruding ribs and the paws with broken nails and small lacerations. This dog hadn't had an easy time of it lately.

"Lily, start walking. Keep your voice calm. The dog is frightened."

Lily blurted, "The dog is frightened-"

"Lily," Natalie said sternly, "I think Tamara is hurt and I think this dog has been with her. Now do you want it to run off because you're scaring the hell out of it or do you want it to lead us to Tamara?"

Lily nodded. "All right. I'm sorry. I'm just so nervous about Tam."

"I know. Let's walk." They started down the rutted lane. The dog hovered behind them. Natalie turned and smiled. "Come," she coaxed.

The dog approached Natalie, who patted it on the head. Reassured, the dog bounded ahead. In spite of its neglected condition, it looked strong and graceful.

Lily glanced around. "I don't see any signs of Tam."

"The road is so rutted and the brush has grown up. It didn't look like this when we used to ride our bikes up here."

"I hate to depress you," Lily said, "but we haven't ridden bikes up here for thirteen years."

"Hard to believe it's been so long." The dog broke into a run. It stopped about a hundred feet ahead where an oak limb that had been struck by lightning lay across the road. The limb was covered with honeysuckle. The tiny white and yellow flowers emitted a strong, sweet scent. Hundreds of bees drawn by the scent emitted a loud, threatening buzz.

Abruptly the dog began to bark. Short, sharp bursts of alarm. It ran back and forth in agitation.

Lily and Natalie stopped as oak leaves and honeysuckle rustled. Black wings appeared on the far side of the limb as a turkey vulture rose slowly, looking at them with tiny, conscienceless eyes encircled by red skin. Another followed. The dog looked up at the ugly carrion birds, barking furiously. Hair stood up along its backbone. A corresponding shudder ran through Natalie.

"What is it?" Lily asked in a thin, unnatural voice.

"I don't know yet," Natalie said. "Stay here. I'll go see."

Lily clutched Natalie's arm. "Nat, I feel sick." She had turned parchment-white. "I… I think I know what it is."

Natalie pried loose Lily's fingers. "Stay here."

If only Natalie felt as strong as she sounded. The day might be sunny perfection, but this place felt dark and cold. Wrong. Natalie had walked out Hyacinth Lane a hundred times and never experienced this feeling. She seemed to be in a totally unfamiliar, hostile place. An evil place.

She crossed her arms over her chest in an unconscious gesture of defense. Suddenly she became aware of the dog. It had come to meet her. Hair still stood up on its back, and it let out a little whimper of distress. Oh, God, no, Natalie thought. The closer to the honeysuckle mass they drew, the louder the bees sounded. Another vulture rose with frightening speed and size and flapped above her like something from a horror movie.

Natalie slowed and almost stopped. The dog crouched, whining. "Natalie?" Lily called weakly. Natalie didn't answer her. Chills running over her arms, she forced herself onward to the mass of oak leaves and honeysuckle vines. Getting as close as she could, she leaned forward, swiping at bees and a mass of black flies, peering into the brush. Then, amid the shiny green leaves and tiny fragrant flowers, she saw the side of Tamara's face. At least part of it.

The vultures had gotten the rest.

"Natalie, is it Tam?"

Hot water flooded into Natalie's mouth. As a veterinarian she had seen some gruesome sights, and the fact that she'd been looking at animals instead of humans had not made a difference to her. Until now. Before her lay the ravaged remains of a beautiful young woman. Not just any young woman-one she had known for over twenty years.

"Natalie" Lily repeated, coming forward.

Natalie waved her away. "Stay back!"

The dog cowered and Lily froze. "It's Tam," Lily said in a flat voice. "She's dead."

Natalie closed her eyes. "Yes, Lily. She is."

The dog whined as if in sympathy. Natalie opened her eyes and looked at Lily. Lily and Tamara. Two faces, mirror images. Now one remained lovely while the other had been rendered grotesque.

"Are you sure she's…?" Lily asked hollowly. "Maybe she's just unconscious or something."

The eyes were gone and the remaining flesh of the face too white for life. "Lily, Tamara is dead."

Lily came to her and Natalie wrapped her arms around Lily's stiff body. "I'm so sorry," she said softly.

"It's all so strange," Lily mumbled. "My dream. The dog. I saw that dog in my dream. It was howling." She took a deep, shuddering breath. "That's Tam's blood on its neck."

"Probably."

"All night she was lying out here in the rain. I was having fun at Panache, then I went home and slept like a log in my nice, dry bed while my sister lay out here with only that dog trying to help her."

"It's not your fault. You couldn't have known."

Lily's voice rose. "If the positions had been reversed, Tam would have known."

"Maybe, maybe not." Natalie held Lily away from her and looked into the hazel eyes that didn't seem to be quite focusing. She started to say they had to go back to the car and call the police. Then the image of the turkey vultures flashed in her mind. She couldn't leave Tamara to a renewed assault, but she couldn't make Lily stand guard over her mutilated sister, either. She didn't want Lily to see Tamara. "Call the police on your car phone," she ordered.

Lily blinked. "You want me to go back to the car by myself?"

"Yes. I need to stay here with Tamara. Please, Lily."

Abruptly Lily turned and headed back down the road. Natalie watched her, hoping she wouldn't faint. Her legs moved quickly and firmly, though. The reality of Tamara's death probably hadn't hit her.

Natalie looked down at the dog. "Did you see what happened? Was Tamara killed by the falling tree limb?" The dog turned its head, listening intently. Natalie braced herself and walked back to Tamara. Only her face was exposed. The tree limb, leaves, and masses of honeysuckle covered the rest of her body.

She looked back at the dog, thinking. It had gotten the blood on its neck from Tamara, but only her face was showing. There was no sign that the dog had trampled over the honeysuckle to reach Tamara. The dog must have been around the body-the bloody body-before the limb had fallen. Tamara was already dead when the limb fell. Could she have been struck by lightning?

The dog came to stand by her, making an occasional noise that sounded like an attempt at speech. Natalie kneeled and took the dog's face in her hands. "You tried to help her, didn't you? You tried to help the pretty lady-"

Natalie's voice broke. Tamara was a pretty lady no more.

Dear Tam who was kind and gentle, who had always tried so hard to live up to everyone's expectations. And this is how she'd ended. It was beyond unfair. Natalie felt like screaming her rage, her frustration, her shock. But she had to stay in control for Lily's sake. She could do nothing for Tamara, but she could get Lily through the horror.

Natalie paced back and forth. Shadows fell on her. She glanced up. The vultures circled overhead, waiting for her to leave their feast. She wanted to throw up. She could not look at Tamara. She felt small and cold and helpless and she wished her father were here. He was always a rock in an emergency. She hadn't really thought about that before. She'd only thought about how exasperating his iron control could be, not how comforting it was at the right time. She needed it now.

It seemed as if Lily had been gone for an hour, but when Natalie saw her coming back down Hyacinth Lane, she glanced at her watch and saw it had been only minutes. Lily didn't move as quickly and purposely as she had when she left. Her gait had a slight wandering quality. Please let her hold on for a while longer until Tamara can be taken away from here, Natalie thought.

"Did you get the police?" she called before Lily reached her.

"I got some deputy at first. He seemed to think I was joking. Some joke," Lily said roughly. "Then Sheriff Meredith got on the phone. He didn't ask a lot of stupid questions. He said he'd be here immediately." She stopped in front of Natalie, white to her lips as if every ounce of blood had drained from her usually vibrant face. "And I called Dad."

Oliver Peyton was a descendent of Port Ariel royalty. He'd inherited money, but it hadn't stopped him from pursuing his law practice with a vengeance. He had a reputation for being frighteningly intelligent and a dreaded opponent in the courtroom. Natalie remembered him as slim, dapper, and haughty.

"Is your father on his way?" Natalie asked.

"He was out. The housekeeper, Mrs. Ebert, went to pieces, but I told her she had to pull it together and locate Dad and Warren. She thinks she knows where Warren is staying in Cleveland." She raised her hands helplessly. "I feel like I should be doing something else for Tam."

"There isn't anything else to do. You've called the right people and you're staying with her."

"I haven't even looked at her."

"You don't need to."

"Is it that bad?" Lily's eyes met hers and Natalie nodded reluctantly. "The vultures?"

"Yes. But she was dead when they came. She didn't feel them."

"We can't be sure of that. We can't be sure of anything." Lily's bleak gaze trailed the length of the thick limb covering her sister. "Tam hated storms. Why would she stay out here until the lightning got close enough to strike the tree?"

Natalie didn't want to bring up her theory that a falling limb didn't kill Tamara, and raise questions she couldn't answer. "You know how fast storms come up around here."

"Not so fast Tam couldn't get back to her house. It's nearly in sight."

"I don't know, Lily. Maybe she went to Ariel Saunders's house, stayed too long, and got caught in the worst of the storm."

"The worst of the storm didn't hit until around ten. She would have been home waiting for Warren 's call."

"We were in Panache. We don't know exactly when the storm was at its worst here."

"But-" Lily broke off and her face crumpled. A long, racking sob shook her. Natalie rushed to her, catching her before she fell, and gently lowered her to the ground. Another sob tore at Lily's throat. "Oh, Nat, I can't believe it. My little sister. She was three minutes younger, you know. Three minutes…"

"I remember," Natalie said gently, rocking Lily's shuddering body.

"We were more than sisters. We knew what the other was thinking, feeling. We knew when the other was in trouble. At least Tam knew when I was in trouble."

"You knew about her, too. You knew something was wrong last night. That's why you kept dreaming about the dog."

"But I didn't see Tam in the dream!"

"You can't tear yourself apart because you're not completely psychic. And Tamara probably died instantly. You couldn't have saved her."

"You don't know that!"

Natalie felt huge relief when she heard sirens. Thank goodness help was coming because she didn't know how much longer she could keep Lily from getting hysterical. A police car was first to arrive. Lily must have given them precise directions because they pulled onto Hyacinth Lane, not Tamara's driveway. An ambulance followed close behind.

"I don't think I can talk to anyone," Lily quavered.

"I'll handle it." Natalie watched a tall, slim man with black hair emerge from the police car. She stood up as he approached.

"Miss Peyton?" he asked in a deep voice.

"No, Natalie St. John. This is Lily Peyton." She motioned to Lily sitting limply on the grass. "She's not feeling well. I found Tamara."

His deep blue eyes flashed to Lily, then back to Natalie. "How long ago did you discover Mrs. Hunt?"

"Around twenty minutes."

"Did you touch anything?"

"No. She turned and looked at the tree limb. The dog sat beside it as if on guard. "She's partially under there."

"Is that your dog?"

"No, it's a stray. I think it found Tamara last night…" She trailed off, not wanting to explain about the blood on the dog's neck. "We're trying to locate Mrs. Hunt's husband."

"All right." He looked at Lily and said in a gentler voice, "I'll have to ask you a few questions later, Miss Peyton."

Lily nodded. He turned to Natalie. "Will the dog bite?"

"I don't think so, but I'll call it, anyway." She whistled. The dog responded hesitantly as the sheriff, a deputy, and emergency technicians headed for the body. Natalie sank down on the grass beside Lily. Another police car arrived. More deputies spilled from it. She stroked the dog's head as they watched the police peer through the leaves and the honeysuckle. Someone began taking photos from all angles. Natalie pictured exactly what they were seeing. Thank goodness Lily couldn't.

"I wish Dad were here," Lily said dully. "He always knows what to do. I'm no help at all."

"Even your father couldn't help, Lily. It's all up to the police now."

"But this isn't really a police matter. It was an accident. I don't understand why they're taking all those pictures."

Because they aren't sure what happened, either, Natalie thought uneasily. "The police come even if it's an accident. Besides, they have to retrieve Tamara's body."

"What's goin' on?"

A strikingly good-looking boy of about twelve stood in front of them, balancing his bike beside him. Natalie hadn't noticed his arrival.

"There's been an accident," she said. "You really shouldn't be here."

"Is someone dead?" the boy asked, his dark eyes snapping with excitement.

"Yes. Now please-"

"Jimmy!" A woman strode down the lane. Jeans covered her ample thighs and her denim shirt hung free. "I told you to stay away from here."

"Mom, someone's dead!" the boy called.

"Dead! Oh my!" She halted. She had a tired prettiness with dark eyes like the boy's, only hers were surrounded by faint shadows of fatigue. She looked at Lily. "Tam-no, Lily?"

"Yes, Beth." Lily turned to Natalie. "This is Beth Jenkins, Tam's neighbor."

"What's wrong?" Beth asked, coming toward them. "Jimmy said someone's dead."

"It's Tam," Lily said shakily. "She's under that limb."

"Mrs. Hunt?" The boy's face blanched, the excitement fading from his eyes. "Tamara?"

"I'm afraid it is," Lily said.

Beth's hand flew to her mouth. She looked fearfully at the police gathered around the site. "What happened?"

Before anyone could answer, someone called out, "Do the Hunts have a chain saw in their garage?"

Lily shrugged. "I don't know."

"We've got one," Jimmy Jenkins said. "I know right where it is."

Sheriff Meredith glanced up. "Hello, Jimmy," he called. "Sure your dad has a chain saw?"

" 'Course I'm sure. Are you sure that's Tamara? I mean, she's too young to be dead. And too nice. Maybe it's somebody we don't know," he ended hopefully.

"Jimmy, we'll worry about positive identification later," the sheriff said with a trace of sympathy in his voice. "Let's get that chain saw now."

He spoke to two deputies, who immediately walked toward Jimmy. 'Follow me," Jimmy directed unnecessarily and he took off on his bike.

Beth twisted her hands together. "Lily, what can I do? Bring you some tea or lemonade? It's getting hot and you look like death. Oh!" Distress flashed across her face. "I didn't mean that. You look lovely. Both you and Tamara are such pretty girls. She came over yesterday and she was positively glowing. Oh! I can't say anything right!" A tear ran down Beth's right cheek. "I'm sorry. I just can't believe this. She was so kind. I'm so busy with the other kids. Jimmy was always dropping in on her. She gave him lemonade and cookies and talked to him and never complained about him being a pest. I think he had a crush on her. Oh, this is awful!"

Lily said gently, "Why don't you go home and help Jimmy find that chain saw, Beth? Natalie's with me and Dad will be here soon."

Natalie saw emotions tugging behind the woman's distressed eyes. She wanted to be of service, but she also wanted to escape the terrible scene. The latter desire won. "Well, if you're sure."

"I am. Thank you, Beth."

The woman turned and nearly ran down the dirt lane toward the street. Lily shook her head. "Tam really liked Beth. And she thought Beth was so lucky-she has four kids. Jimmy is the oldest. Tam wanted children so much." Suddenly she moaned and buried her head in her hands. "I was devastated when Mom died. Now I'm glad she's gone. This would have hurt her so deeply she would never have recovered. Dad is stronger."

Men returned with the chain saw. Jimmy was in hot pursuit, but they stopped him before he could get near the site of Tamara's body. He stood, balancing his bicycle beside him, watching the activity. Someone revved up the chain saw.

Lily closed her eyes. "It's bad enough that she's dead, but to be trapped like that-" A shudder ran through her. "My sister wasn't supposed to die this way."

The roar of the chain saw ripped through the beautiful afternoon. "Watch it!" a man shouted. "You don't want to cut off her legs!" Lily leaned forward as if she were going to faint. "Please tell me this is a nightmare and I'll wake up."

"I wish I could."

"I'm not going to face it now." Lily clambered to her feet and began pacing around. "No, I'm not going to face it now. I can't."

"Lily, please sit down. You're so pale."

"I can't." She wrapped her arms around herself as she trampled aimlessly through the tall grass and weeds at the side of the dirt road. "I just don't understand. This doesn't make any sense. Tam wouldn't have stayed out in a storm…" She frowned, then bent down to pick up a piece of paper.

"What is it?" Natalie asked.

Lily looked at it for a couple of seconds and said in shock, "What in the world?"

Natalie came to her, holding out her hand. Lily gave her a piece of white paper, blistered from water damage. On it was typed in blurry letters, their throat is an open tomb. The right side of the paper bore a red stain.

"It was under those leaves. Where do you suppose it came from?"

Natalie looked at the red stain, then at the site of Tam's body. Forty to fifty feet away. She knew. "It's probably nothing," she said carelessly to an already distraught Lily, tucking the note in her pocket.

"Why are you doing that?" Lily demanded. "It's wet and dirty. You think it has something to do with Tam, don't you?"

"Probably not." Natalie looked up. "Thank goodness. Here's your father."

Down the lane Oliver Peyton climbed out of a black Lexus. His silvering fair hair shone in the light, perfect as always, but as he drew closer Natalie saw that his face was almost as gray as his expensive suit. His eyes had a wide, staring quality as if he'd just seen something startling. Natalie had always thought he seemed like the coldest man she'd ever met except when it came to the girls. He'd been an adoring and indulgent parent, and Natalie had envied the twins' easy relationship with their father. It lacked all the prickliness of hers with Andrew. "Lily," Oliver called, his usually precise voice reedy and unsure.

"Dad, I'm so glad you're here."

Oliver stopped in front of her and took her shoulders firmly in his hands. "Lily, Mrs. Ebert told me you called. She said Tamara is dead. She's obviously mistaken. Now I want you to tell me calmly and clearly what is going on."

Lily gazed up at him. "Dad, it's true. Tam is dead."

"No, no, that can't be right," Oliver insisted. "Now think about what you're saying-"

"She's dead!" Lily blurted, tears spilling over her pale cheeks. "Tam is dead."

Sheriff Meredith appeared. Oliver Peyton was only about five foot ten and Meredith seemed to tower over him. "Mr. Peyton, your daughter is dead," he said quietly. "I'm very sorry."

"I want to see her."

"No, sir, you don't."

"Why?" Oliver demanded. "You don't even know if it's my daughter."

"It is, Mr. Peyton," Natalie said. "I saw her."

Oliver looked at her indignantly. "And who are you?"

"Oh, Dad, it's Natalie St. John." Lily sounded as if she were reaching the end of her endurance. "She says it's Tam and her body is not in good shape. You see, there were these vultures-"

Her voice broke. Oliver's smooth face blanched. Sheriff Meredith's eyes flashed sympathy but his manner remained businesslike as the chain saw continued its relentless grinding in the background. "Mr. Peyton, we don't know exactly how your daughter died. It looks like lightning struck a limb and it fell on her." Natalie's gaze cut to his. He paused for a couple of seconds, then went on. "Why don't you take your daughter home? We'll be here a while and then we'll take the body in for an autopsy."

Oliver and Lily winced. Natalie glared. Did this guy have to be so brutal? Lily was right-he was a jerk.

"I'm not going anywhere," Oliver announced.

"Dad, please," Lily said weakly. A sheen of perspiration covered her ashen face and her hands trembled. "I have to get away from here and I can't drive."

"Oh, darling." Oliver seemed to really see Lily for the first time. "I need to stay. Can't Natalie take you home?"

"No, Dad, I need you. I want to go to your house-our house. Please. There's nothing we can do here." She handed a set of keys to Natalie. "You can drive my car home."

Natalie nodded although she couldn't drive a four-speed. She didn't want to burden Lily with worries about the car, though. She'd leave it in Tamara's driveway and get a ride with someone.

"There's nothing you can do here," the sheriff said in a gentler tone. "Please take care of your daughter, and I'll stop by your house later with any news."

Oliver wasn't looking well himself and reluctantly he nodded. Natalie and Sheriff Meredith watched as the two trudged to the Lexus and drove slowly away. Then Meredith turned to her, pinning her with a pair of the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. "You don't think Mrs. Hunt was killed by a falling branch."

"No, I don't. I believe this stray dog was around the body last night. It has dried blood all over its neck. Sometimes dogs and wolves will stretch their necks over the neck of one of their kind or a person to protect them. I think that's what this dog did with Tamara, but as I'm sure you can see, there's no way it could have gotten in position to do so with Tam under the limb. The limb fell after Tam was down."

Meredith frowned, looked at her, looked at the dog, looked at the area where Tamara lay, then looked back at Natalie. "I never heard of dogs doing anything like that. Why?"

"Because a predator goes for the throat. The stronger one protects the weaker one's throat from attack."

"How do you know all of this?"

"I'm a veterinarian."

"Are you sure that's what happened?"

"No, I'm not sure. Not all dogs do it. This dog doesn't have blood around its mouth as if it had killed and eaten something, though. The blood is only around the neck, but there is no injury in the neck area. And there's something else." From the pocket in her slacks she withdrew the note Lily had found. "Take a look at this."

" 'Their throat is an open tomb.' " Meredith's blue eyes flashed back at her. "Where did you get this?"

"Lily found it right over there." She nodded to the spot. "There were some leaves lying over most of it or rain would have obliterated the typing. I think that's blood on the edge."

"You think this note was left on her body?"

"Blood on the dog, blood on the note. The wind could have blown the note off the body." Meredith gave her a piercing look. She suddenly felt ridiculous, standing here spouting theories, but she couldn't stop. "The wind probably couldn't have blown the note free if it were trapped under all that foliage, though, so I think the limb fell later, after Tam was dead. Or injured," she trailed off, wilting under the intense blue gaze.

A piece of the limb crashed loose and the chain saw stopped. Natalie and Meredith watched as a male deputy dragged away debris and a female deputy moved closer to Tamara's body. In a moment she turned around. "Sheriff, I think you'd better take a look."

Meredith glanced at Jimmy Jenkins, who hovered nearby. "Jimmy, go home." Then he looked at her. "Dr. St. John, you stay here."

"I'll stay with you," Jimmy said staunchly. "You look like you could use a man around."

"Thank you," Natalie said, appreciating his offer. She kneeled by the dog, fondling its ears, talking to it, trying to shut out the horror of the situation. The dog licked her hands as if in gratitude. Gratitude for a few kind words and a gentle touch, Natalie thought, her throat tightening. Poor Tam. Poor dog. God, what a wretched day.

Gravel crunched beside her. She looked up. Meredith stood straight and tall, his strong-boned face grim. "I think you were right, Dr. St. John," he said, his voice without inflection. "Her throat has been slashed."

Tamara's throat had been slashed? Slashed?

Natalie stood up, her lips slightly parted in shock. She'd known Tamara hadn't been killed by a falling limb. She'd even been fairly sure Tam hadn't been struck by lighting. But this?

Meredith watched her intently. "Dr. St. John, do you know anyone who might want to murder Mrs. Hunt?"

"Murder?" Natalie repeated incredulously. "Murder Tamara? My God, no! No one could want to hurt her."

"Someone did. I don't need a medical examiner to tell me her throat wasn't cut in an accident." He seemed to notice Jimmy for the first time. "I told you to get going, boy!" Jimmy hopped on his bike and sped away, although he looked totally unabashed by the sheriff's harsh tone. "Dr. St. John, I asked you about Mrs. Hunt," Meredith said.

Natalie raised her hands helplessly. "I can't tell you anything. I haven't lived in Port Ariel for years. I'm only back for a visit."

"Maybe her father and sister will know something. Or her husband. Is that all the family?"

"Her mother is dead. There are aunts, uncles, cousins, but I don't know where any of them live."

Meredith wasn't taking notes, but Natalie had no doubt he would remember everything she said. She glanced back at the location of Tamara's body. People cleared away the remaining leaves and chunks of wood. Emergency technicians pushed a gurney. Everyone moved slowly and quietly because Tamara was a lifeless, mutilated body headed for a morgue instead of an emergency room. Had there ever been a chance? How long had she lived after someone had ripped open her slender white throat?

"Dr. St. John?" Sheriff Meredith's voice sounded as if it were coming from far away. She looked at him, noticing for the first time a thin two-inch-long scar that slashed above his right eyebrow and the slight bump high on the bridge of his nose as if it had been broken. He also had a strand of silver hair along one temple. Lily had said something about him coming to Port Ariel because of a tragedy in New York City. Had he been injured? "Are you all right?" he asked.

"Not really." She suddenly realized how weak she felt. "Could someone take me home?"

"I thought Miss Peyton left her car keys."

"Her Corvette is a four-speed. I can only drive an automatic. My father tried to teach me to use a manual but I just couldn't seem to learn. He got so frustrated-" She broke off. "I need a ride."

"I've done all I can here for now. I'll take you."

The emergency technicians were carrying the gurney past them. The road was too rough to wheel it. A sheet covered Tamara's body, but Natalie still averted her eyes.

"Did you bag her hands?" Meredith asked.

"Yes," a deputy said. "You told us twice."

"Got a handkerchief?"

The deputy looked at him blankly for a moment, then withdrew a white square from his pocket. The sheriff took it, put the note inside, and handed it back. "Put this in an evidence bag. We've already got three extra sets of prints on it. We don't need any more."

"What is it?" the deputy asked.

"A note that might have been left on Mrs. Hunt's body. Hysell, I'm going to take Dr. St. John home. I'll be back at the office in half an hour."

"Okay, Sheriff." Then: "Natalie?"

She looked up and recognized Ted Hysell. He'd been a couple of years ahead of her in school. "Damned shame, isn't it?" Ted said. "Knew Tamara for years. She was a real sweetheart."

"Yes, she was."

"Pretty as a picture. I used to have a crush on her. Of course that was a long time ago. She never went out with me, but she was always real nice to me. Helped me through French class. I would have failed without her. Anyway, we'll find who did this, Natalie. We won't stop until we've got him and-"

"Thank you, Hysell," Meredith said repressively, clearly annoyed by Ted's chattiness. "Get back to headquarters as soon as possible and don't talk to any reporters. I'll prepare a statement for later."

Ted's eyes flicked with resentment before he marched back to the patrol car. The sheriff had been a bit sharp with him, but Ted's nonstop talking would fray anyone's nerves.

"All right, Dr. St. John," Meredith said. "Let's get going. You don't look so good."

Natalie took a couple of steps toward the sheriff's car, then looked back at the dog. It lay on the grass, its amber gaze fastened on her. She hesitated for a moment, then tapped her thigh. "Come on, girl." The dog immediately ran to her.

Meredith stopped. "I thought that wasn't your dog."

"It isn't, but it's hungry and in need of medical attention."

"It's also not too clean."

"Are you saying you won't let it in your car? Because if so, I can call my father." Natalie was afraid he'd tell her to do so. "Dad is at the hospital now-he has a patient in critical condition-but I guess I can wait out here for him."

Meredith sighed, and she thought he half-suspected she was lying. "Okay, both of you get in. I can't just leave you here."

Thank goodness, Natalie thought. Meredith opened the rear car door. The dog hesitated. Natalie slid in and patted the vinyl seat. The dog hopped up beside her.

After Natalie told him her address, they drove in silence for a few minutes. Finally Meredith said, "You going to put an ad in the paper for that dog?"

"Maybe."

"You don't sound too anxious to find its home."

"I have a feeling it was dumped. Lost dogs usually have a collar and tags."

"And you'd like to keep it." Natalie looked in the rearview mirror and saw him smiling. He held his head low, tilted, and looked up at her with those incredibly blue eyes. "You remind me of my daughter."

"How old is she?"

"Eleven. Her name is Paige. She wants to take in every stray she sees."

"So did I. Bunnies, baby robins, you name it. Does Paige have any pets?"

"A male cat. Ripley. Last year an elderly woman's house was burglarized. She was afraid to live alone afterward. Went to stay with her daughter who wouldn't accept the cat."

"So you took him in for your daughter." Natalie thawed toward him a fraction. "That was nice of you."

"The kid was driving me nuts begging for a pet." Even though he referred to his daughter as "the kid," his voice was warm with affection. "So you're a vet. Where do you practice?"

"A big clinic in Columbus called Anicare." To which I might never return because it means working with Kenny, Natalie thought. "There are ten veterinarians on staff and we only take referrals for difficult cases. I've lived in Columbus for twelve years."

"But you grew up in Port Ariel."

"Yes."

"Come back often to visit?"

"Twice a year."

"And you were friends with Tamara Hunt."

"She and Lily are twins. I've known them since I started first grade. We also shared an apartment in Columbus when we attended Ohio State."

"And you've stayed in close touch with Lily and Tamara since then?"

"Yes. They've both visited me in Columbus. I talk on the phone with Lily every couple of weeks. Tamara about once a month."

"So you know Mrs. Hunt's husband. What's your impression of him?"

Natalie hesitated. She thought Warren Hunt was a pompous bag of hot air, but her opinion was largely a matter of instinct. "I attended their wedding and I've been around him maybe five or six times since then. I wouldn't say I know him." She ran a hand over the dog's head. "Is Warren under suspicion, Sheriff Meredith?"

"Nick," he said absently. "And it was just an idle question."

Natalie doubted this. He was making friendly conversation-even telling her to call him Nick-because he wanted to put her off guard. But how could he possibly suspect Warren? He wasn't even here. Still, hadn't she heard on police shows that the spouse was always the prime suspect?

"Turn left here," Natalie directed. "It's the stone house up ahead."

"Nice place-. I've admired it ever since I moved here."

"Thank you. My father designed it."

"Architecture a hobby of his?"

"Yes."

"That his Jeep Wagoneer in the driveway?"

"Yes."

"Guess he finished with that critical patient sooner than you expected," he said dryly.

Natalie didn't answer. Even if Andrew had been home earlier, she hadn't wanted to call him from Tamara's. She would have had to answer a dozen questions, then wait for him to arrive when she wanted desperately to get away from the scene of Tamara's murder.

Meredith opened the back door for her. She got out and coaxed the dog to follow. "I may need to talk to you later," he said.

"Fine. Phone number is listed. Thank you for bringing me home."

As she climbed the steps to the front porch, her father swung open the door. "Before you left I specifically asked you not to get in trouble and here you are two hours later delivered home by the sheriff himself." Her father's voice always boomed when he was tense. "Was there a wreck? Are you hurt? You look awful."

"Dad, lower your voice and let the dog and me come in because if I don't sit down and have a cup of coffee-"

"You're going to pass out. There's not an ounce of color in your face." Andrew put his big hand on her arm and drew her inside the coolness of the entrance hall. The dog lingered uncertainly on the porch. "You, too. I didn't mean to scare you. You both look like you need some tender loving care."

While her father poured water and laid out leftover bacon from breakfast for the dog, Natalie sat down at the kitchen table and stared out at the lake. Sunlight flashed over its glassy surface. In one direction she could see no shore- only water. It looked so calm, so soothing.

Andrew set a mug of coffee in front of her. "Take a drink of that and tell me what's going on."

Natalie sipped, then drew a deep breath. "Dad, Tamara is dead."

"Dead! Then there was a wreck!" Andrew burst out. "Lily drives too fast. Always did. Are you hurt?"

"There wasn't a wreck." Natalie raised anguished eyes to her father. "Tamara was murdered."

" Mur -wha-murdered?" Andrew's face registered profound shock. "Natalie, what are you talking about? How? When? Murdered!"

The dog quit eating and looked at him. "Dad, please stop blustering," Natalie said. "Lily hadn't been able to reach Tam by phone so we went to her house. The windows were open and the draperies damp from the storm last night. The doors were locked. We walked down Hyacinth Lane. Tamara was lying on the road beneath a tree limb. It looked like the falling limb had killed her, but when the police cut it away, they saw that Tam's throat had been-" She drew a deep breath. "Slashed."

"Dear God," Andrew breathed, sitting down heavily. "Who?"

"They have no idea. Mr. Peyton came and took Lily home before the police discovered that her throat had been cut, so they don't even know yet that she was murdered. Neither does Warren. He's at a convention in Cleveland." She shook her head. "Dad, the dog led me to her body. It was horrible. The vultures had been at her eyes."

Andrew reached out and covered her hand with his surprisingly slender one, the hand of a gifted surgeon. "Go ahead and cry, honey."

"I can't. The tears won't come."

"They will in time." He patted her back in a clumsy attempt at comfort. "How's Lily?"

"Alternately sobbing and dry-eyed. Shaking. A wreck."

"Did she see her sister?"

"No, I wouldn't let her."

"Good. That would be a sight she'd take to her grave."

Natalie sighed. "It will be a sight I'll take to mine."