Rafe smiled wryly. “I’d give you the standard advice about not quitting your day job. But I guess it’s too late.”

“Much too late,” she agreed.

Gabe stood at the rail of the inn’s broad front porch and watched the taillights of Lillian’s car disappear down the drive. Rafe leaned against a nearby post. Winston was stretched out at the top of the steps, his paws dangling over the edge, ears and nose angled to take in the sounds and scents of the night. Hannah had disappeared back into the warmth of the kitchen.

“If you’re going to be here in Eclipse Bay for a whole month, maybe I’d better fill you in on some of the local news,” Rafe said after a while.

“Save your breath. I’m not real interested in gossip.”

“This concerns Marilyn Thornley.”

Gabe took a moment to rummage around in his memory for some images of the woman he had dated for a time in those first years after college. She had been Marilyn Caldwell in those days, the daughter of one of the wealthiest men in the region. The Caldwells’ home was in Portland but, like the Hartes, they had always kept a second home in Eclipse Bay. They also had a third in Palm Springs.

Marilyn had excellent instincts when it came to selecting winners. Gabe knew that while she had viewed him as having long-term potential, Trevor Thornley had looked like more of a sure thing. She had taken a long, hard look at the two men and chosen to cast her lot with Thornley.

There had been no hard feelings on his part, Gabe reflected. He certainly couldn’t fault her decision. It had been a sensible, businesslike move. Trevor had been on the fast track in the political world. It was obvious even back then that he had the charisma, the glibness and the looks required to grab and hold the media’s and the public’s attention. It was clear that, barring some major disaster, he would go far, maybe all the way to Washington, D.C. All he required was money. Lots of it. Marilyn’s family had supplied the missing commodity. Everyone had agreed that it made sense to invest in a son-in-law who was on his way to becoming a major political powerhouse.

There had been an unexpected bonus for Thornley in the arrangement. Marilyn had proven to be a brilliant campaign strategist. With the help of the politically astute staff of the Eclipse Bay Policy Studies Institute, she had orchestrated every step of Trevor’s career. Under her guidance, he had moved up steadily through the political ranks. Last fall, he had announced that he was making a bid for the U.S. Senate.

To everyone’s surprise, he had pulled out of the race shortly before Thanksgiving. The only explanation Gabe had seen in the papers was the ubiquitouspersonal reasons.

“What about Marilyn?” Gabe asked.

“Haven’t you heard? She and Thornley have filed for divorce. She moved into her folks’ summer place here in town last month. She’s got an office at the institute.”

“A staff position?”

Rafe shook his head. “She’s getting set to launch her own career in politics.”

“Huh. Doesn’t surprise me. She was born for politics.”

“Yeah. Just one problem.”

“What’s that?” Gabe asked.

“Word is she burned through a big pile of her family’s money financing Thornley’s career. Apparently her folks have declined to invest any more cash in politics for a while. Rumor has it they won’t be backing her. At least not until she’s proven that she can win.”

“In other words, she needs money.”

“Yeah. Lots and lots of it,” Rafe said knowingly. “I mention this because it occurs to me that you have what she wants. Expect you’ll be hearing from her as soon as she learns that you’re back in town.”

“Thanks for the heads-up. But don’t worry about it. One thing I can spot real quick is a woman who’s after my money.”

Rafe looked out over the dark bay. “The two of you were once an item.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Sure.” Rafe shoved his hands into his front pockets. “Consider yourself forewarned.”

“Okay.”

There was another pause. Gabe could feel his brother shifting mental gears.

“You really rented the old Buckley place for an entire month?” Rafe asked after a while.

“Yes.”

“Got to admit, it does seem a little uncharacteristic for you to do something like that. You think maybe Lillian is right? You burned out or something?”

“Madisons don’t do burnout. You ever heard of a Madison burning out?”

Rafe thought about that. “No. Heard of one or two exploding. Couple have imploded. Of course you’ve got your occasional cases of spontaneous combustion in the family. But never heard of any burnout.”

“Right.”

“What’s with you and Lillian, anyway?”

“What makes you think there’s anything between us?”

“I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not the most sensitive, intuitive, perceptive guy around.”

“Course not. You’re a Madison.”

“But even I could see that every time you looked at Lillian tonight you had the same expression you get when you’ve got a major deal going down at Madison Commercial.”

“Like you said, you’re not real sensitive, intuitive, or perceptive.”

“I’m not real stupid, either,” Rafe reminded him. “I’ve never seen that particular look when you were with any other woman.”

“Lillian’s not a business deal.”

“Hold on to that thought, because I’ve got a hunch that if you treat her like you would an M.C. investment you’re gonna have some serious problems.”

Gabe looked at Winston. “My brother, the advice columnist.”

Winston cocked his head and looked intelligent. It was an expression he did very well.

Rafe contemplated the empty drive. “Always figured you’d go off the rails someday.”

“Being a Madison and all.”

“Probably inevitable. Question of genetic destiny or something. You know, I’m a little sorry Hannah and Winston and I are leaving town tomorrow. Would have been interesting to see it.”

“What?”

“The train wreck.”

The storm came and went during the night. The morning dawned bright and mild for the time of year. The temperature was somewhere in the high fifties.

Gabe came to a halt at the top of the small bluff and looked down into Dead Hand Cove. The tide was out, exposing the five finger-shaped rocks that had given the cove its name. There were a number of dark holes and voids in the base of the cliffs. They marked a series of small caverns and caves that nature had punched into the rock.

He saw Lillian perched on one of the carelessly strewn boulders near the water’s edge. The winter sun gleamed on her dark hair. The keen edge of expectation that shafted through him heightened all his senses. He felt the now-familiar tightness in his lower body.

She wore a pair of snug black leggings that emphasized the neat curve of her calves and trim ankles. The neckline of an orange-gold sweater was visible above the collar of a scarlet jacket. Her hair was coiled into a knot at the back of her head.

She was bent intently over an open sketchbook propped on her knees.

Last night at Rafe and Hannah’s he had learned the terrible truth. She wasn’t just an arty type. She was a for real artist.

He watched the deft, economical movements of her hand as she worked on the drawing. There was a supple, controlled grace in the way she wielded the pencil that fascinated him. A sorceress at work on a magical spell.

A gull screeched overhead, breaking the trance that held him still at the top of the short cliff.

He pulled the collar of his black-and-tan jacket up around his ears and went down the pebbled path, moving quickly, perversely eager to get closer to his own doom. Probably a Madison thing, he thought.

She became aware of his presence when he reached the rocky patch of ground that formed the tiny sliver of beach. Lillian looked up quickly, turning her head to watch him. She seemed to go very still there on the rock. Sorceress caught in the act. He could sense the cool caution in her.