Grand Passion (32 page)

Perhaps he didn't really love her at all in the way she wanted to be loved.

Perhaps she had been the one who had screwed up tonight.

Cleo rested her chin on her updrawn knees. “What do you want to do?”

“I don't know. I've felt like this once or twice before in my life. There was trouble every time.” Max turned away from the window. “I think I'll give O'Reilly a call.”

“Now?” Cleo squinted at the clock. She was so relieved that he didn't seem to be dwelling on her unwelcome declaration of love that she had trouble following the conversation. “It's two in the morning.”

“I know.” Max reached for the phone, apparently having no trouble seeing its dark shape in the shadows. He picked up the receiver and then froze.

“Max?”

He put the receiver slowly back into the cradle and stared out across the cove. “Christ.”

“Max, what is it?” Cleo scrambled out of bed and went to stand beside him. She squinted when she saw the strange orange glow in the distance. “What on earth is that?”

“Cosmic Harmony,” Max said. “It's on fire.” He turned abruptly away from the desk.

“Oh, my God.” Panic welled up in Cleo. “Andromeda and Daystar and the others will be asleep. We've got to get to them.” She whirled around, scrabbling about frantically for her glasses.

“Calm down, Cleo.” Max was halfway across the room, heading toward the closet. “First, make sure the fire department is on its way.”

“Yes. Yes, of course.” Cleo grabbed the phone and realized she couldn't see well enough to punch out the emergency number. She fumbled with the light switch and finally found it. She pushed her glasses onto her nose with shaking fingers and stabbed at the phone.

“Forget it,” Max said as he pulled on his shirt. “They've already got the word. Hear the sirens?”

Cleo listened to the shrill howl in the distance. “Thank God. Max, we've got to get over there.”

“I'll go. You stay here.” Max was already dressed. He yanked up his zipper.

“No, I'll come with you.” She grabbed her jeans.

Max looked at her, eyes grim. “I want you to stay here.”

“Why?”

“Because something is wrong.”

“I know something is wrong. Cosmic Harmony is on fire.” Cleo had her jeans on and was frantically trying to button her shirt. She realized she was shaking so much that she could barely find the buttonholes.

Max unlocked his leather carryall and removed an object from inside. Cleo froze when she saw that it was a revolver.

“Where did you get that?” she whispered as she watched him load it.

“I've been keeping it handy since that day someone stalked you in the fog.” Max looked up. “Don't worry, I'll get rid of it when this is all over. I don't want to keep a gun in the house any more than you do.”

“Oh, Max.” Cleo shivered.

He moved to stand in front of her. He caught hold of her shoulder with one hand. “Listen to me, Cleo. I want you to stay here at the inn. Do you understand me? You'll be safe here. There are people downstairs. George is here. Sylvia is in her room. There are plenty of lights on in the place.
I want you here
.”

She stared at him, momentarily stunned by the implications of what he was saying. “You're worried about me? But it's Cosmic Harmony that's in trouble.”

“I don't like this, Cleo. A fire at Cosmic Harmony at this particular time is too damn weird. I want you where I know you'll be safe while I check out what's happening on the other side of the cove.” He released her and went to the door.

“But, Max…” Cleo raced after him.

“Stay here, Cleo.” Max opened the door.

She instinctively reacted to the command in his voice. For an instant she was immobilized. By the time she could move a few seconds later, Max was already out in the hall. He closed the door in her face.

She heard the familiar squeak of the hall floorboard, and then he was gone.

Cleo made up her mind. She would go downstairs and awaken Sylvia. Together they could discuss the wisdom of going to Cosmic Harmony.

The phone rang on the desk.

Cleo jumped. She paused, her hand on the doorknob, and glanced at the instrument as if it had come alive. It rang again, an urgent summons that sent a thrill of fear down her spine. Reluctantly she went toward it and picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Cleo? It's O'Reilly. I'm on the car phone. I'm on my way to the inn.”

“
O'Reilly
.” Cleo felt weak with relief. “Max was just about to call you.”

“That doesn't surprise me. Sometimes that guy is downright psychic when it comes to trouble. Is he there?”

“No, he just left. He's on his way to Cosmic Harmony. There's a fire over there.”

“Damn it to hell,” O'Reilly muttered. “You sure?”

“We can see the flames from here.”

“Cleo, listen to me.” O'Reilly's voice was suddenly cold and tense. “You stay put, do you hear me?”

Cleo grimaced. “That's what Max just said. Give me one good reason.”

“Because something has finally turned up, and I don't like it at all.”

“What is this all about, O'Reilly? I'm already scared enough tonight.”

“Cleo, did you know your father was a witness at a murder trial two years before he died?”

“Sure, I knew about it.” Cleo's fingers clenched around the phone. “He saw a man leaving a building where the police said a murder had been committed. He identified the man on the stand. What has that got to do with anything?”

“That man's name was Emile Wynn. He was a professional hit man. A couple of small-time hoods gave evidence against him, but it was your father's testimony linking him to the scene of the crime that tipped the case in the prosecution's favor. Wynn went to prison.”

“I know. O'Reilly, what is this all about? Please hurry. I want to go see what's happening at Cosmic Harmony.”

“Three months before your father and mother died, Wynn was released on a technicality.”

“What?” Cleo stared at the flames on the other side of the cove. “We were never told about that.”

“It wasn't exactly news. Happens every day. At any rate, Wynn disappeared almost immediately. The authorities believed that he had left the country. It was a logical assumption. But I'm beginning to think that Wynn may have changed his identity instead.”

Cleo sank down onto the chair. “You think he may have killed my parents out of revenge?”

“It's a real possibility. Cleo, there were a couple of things about Wynn that were noted at the trial. The first was that he had a reputation, and that reputation meant everything to him. He was a fanatic about it.”

Cleo rubbed her temple, trying to think. “What sort of reputation?”

“He never failed, and he never left any evidence. He was a professional, and he was obsessive about it.”

“Sort of like Max,” Cleo whispered.

“Max? What the hell are you talking about?”

“He never screws up.”

“Yeah, well, Wynn screwed up that last time, and your father saw him. Now your father is dead. It's possible that Wynn killed him and then murdered your mother simply because she was on the scene at the time.”

Cleo squeezed her eyes shut. She felt sick to her stomach. “No witnesses.”

“Right. Wynn never left witnesses. Listen, Cleo, this is all conjecture at this point, but I think you may have triggered Wynn back into action when you hired Eberson last summer.”

“No,” Cleo said softly. “Oh, no.”

“I think Eberson did some digging around and came up with some of the same conclusions that I've come up with. He may have been careless and accidentally alerted Wynn to the fact that someone was looking into the case again. Wynn may have decided that his new identity was at risk.”

“You think Wynn killed Mr. Eberson, too?”

“I think it's a real possibility. Cleo, do you understand what I'm saying here?” O'Reilly asked tightly. “If I'm right, then you're Wynn's target now. Don't leave the inn.”

“But what has all this got to do with the threats I've received concerning my book?”

“Wynn was noted for being very thorough. He did his research carefully. He preferred to make his jobs look like accidents or, as in the case of your father, suicide. He had a reputation for going to a lot of trouble to set up the scene of the hit.”

“You think he did some checking on me, found out I'd written
The Mirror
, and decided to set up the scenario that would make people think I was murdered by a deranged reader?”

“He probably knows how much Cosmic Harmony means to you. I don't like the sound of this fire. A little too coincidental.”

“That's what Max said.”

“Max is on his way to the cove now?”

“Yes.”

“Good. You stay put, Cleo. Don't step foot outside the inn until he gets back.”

Cleo gave up trying to argue. “All right. I'll go downstairs and wake Sylvia. She and I and Sammy will circle the wagons and wait for the men to do their thing.”

“I'll be there in another hour or so.” O'Reilly paused briefly. “Tell Sylvia I'm on my way, will you?”

“She'll be waiting for you. We'll all be waiting.”

“That's nice to know,” O'Reilly said. “Been a long time since I had anyone waiting for me. Listen, I've got to get off the phone now. I'm going to call your police chief. I want to let him know what's going on.”

“We've only got a one-man force, O'Reilly. Harry will be out at Cosmic Harmony right now.”

“Hell, that's the trouble with small towns. Okay, sit tight. Max and I will handle everything.”

Cleo put down the phone.

Her parents had been killed. Murdered. Shot by a cold-blooded hit man.

But all she felt was relief.

As horrible as the truth was, it was infinitely preferable to the explanation that the authorities had insisted upon all these years. Her father had not gone mad and killed her mother and himself. Her parents' love for each other had not been tainted by a foul sickness in her father's mind. The bond between them had been pure and clean, wholesome and steadfast. Just like her love for Max.

In spite of the situation, Cleo felt as if a dark weight had been lifted from her soul.

She rose slowly and started for the door. She wanted to talk to Sylvia.

The flames in the distance caught her attention once more. She paused to glance out the window. It was impossible to tell if it was the main lodge that was on fire or one of the smaller buildings.

The hall floorboard squeaked.

Cleo went perfectly still.

I have a reputation to maintain
.

Her own words to Sylvia a few hours earlier came back to her.
Does it strike you that Max and Herbert T. Valence have something in common
?

A reputation.

A reputation
.

Cleo leaped for the door. It opened before she could lock it. Herbert T. Valence stepped into the room. He had a pistol in his hand. There was something odd about the shape of the barrel, Cleo realized. Perhaps that was what a silencer looked like.

“Well, Ms. Robbins.” Valence smiled his thin, humorless little smile. “We meet properly at last. Allow me to introduce myself. My real name is Emile Wynn. Perhaps you've heard of me. Your father ruined me professionally.”

Cleo tried to speak and realized that she could not find her voice. She took a deep breath, the same kind she took when she meditated. She had to say something, anything, in order to break the paralysis.

“You bastard.” Her voice was only a squeak. But rage swept through her without warning, driving out the fear. “
You killed my parents
.”

Valence frowned as he closed the door behind himself. “I had no choice. Your father's testimony destroyed my reputation. I could not rest until he had paid for it. A man's reputation is everything, Ms. Robbins.”

“My mother…,” Cleo began in a choked voice.

“Had to go, too, I'm afraid. I plan my little dramas with exquisite care, and I had determined that a murder-suicide seemed most appropriate for that particular situation.”

“You've come after me because you knew I'd find you sooner or later,” Cleo said.

Valence looked at her with a strangely troubled gaze. “You hired a second-rate investigator last summer. He was a very unprofessional sort, Ms. Robbins. I realized almost immediately that he was nosing around, and I took appropriate steps. But I also knew then that I had to do something about you.”

“In other words, you knew I might decide to hire someone else, and next time I might get my money's worth.” Cleo took a step back.

Valence did not appear to know that O'Reilly had already learned who he was. Whatever happened here tonight, she must not betray O'Reilly or Max. Valence would surely go after them next.

“Unfortunately it became clear that you were going to be a nuisance, Ms. Robbins.” Valence followed her movement with the pistol. “But I must confess that one thing puzzled me. If you had suspicions about your parents' death, why did you wait nearly four years before you hired an investigator?”