moment of panic, and he wondered if she would remember it, though he doubted he’d ever forget. Abby Caldwell had always appealed to him.
He heard her feet on the steps, heard her talking with Elda in the kitchen as she handed over her wet clothes for the laundry and offered to help the older couple in any way. They turned her down, of course, and then he heard her soft footfalls on the creaky old floor as she made her way down the hall toward him. Her steps sounded tentative, almost reluctant. Or maybe he was just reading too much into things.
“Come on in, the fire’s warm.”
“I’m sure it feels great.” At his invitation she stepped quickly past him and held her hands out to the stove. “I was beginning to wonder if I’d ever feel warm again.”
“Me, too.” Scott cleared his throat. Should he ask herabout the ring? No, it wasn’t any of his business. But she knew he’d seen it—surely she’d be wondering what he was thinking. Perhaps it would be best if he acknowledged it and moved past it. Before he could make up his mind, Abby pulled a chair over near him, sat down and spoke.
“Remember how we were talking about who might have a motive for stranding us on the island?”
It took Scott’s still-groggy mind a moment to switch topics. “Yes.”
“Well, I was thinking, and I might be totally off base here,” she qualified, “but you know what you said about your family’s land being potentially worth a lot of money?”
Scott wanted to caution her, to assure her the whole idea was a long shot, but whether it was his exhaustion over their earlier ordeal or a still-small voice telling him to listen, he said nothing and watched her face intently as she spoke.
“It occurred to me, inheritance laws being what they are, who would get the land if you and your mother died?”
“That depends.” Scott thought about it. “If Mom died, I’d inherit the land from her, and then if I died, I have two distant cousins on her side who would probably inherit it from me, although Mitch might stake some sort of claim. I don’t know.”
“What if you died first, or if you both died at the same time?”
Scott opened his mouth to speak, then stopped. Was she implying…
“Sorry, I’m sure it’s none of my business.” She rose from her chair.
Reaching up, Scott touched her arm and she sat back down. “Mitch would get it,” he told her, looking into her eyes. “Mitch would get everything.”
Her eyes widened at his words. “Do you think—” she started.
“Do I think what?” Fears, ideas, a jumbled mass of theories and suspicions came crashing down inside his head as though Abby had pulled open the door of an overstuffed closet and let loose more skeletons than he’d ever known were hiding there. “Do I think Mitch would stoop to murder if he thought he could get away with it? Maybe. Do I think he’s bright enough to have planned something like this, or brave enough to pull it off? Not really.” Scott leaned back in his chair and put his hands to his temples. He was getting a headache from all the wind and cold he’d endured.
Then he leaned forward and looked at Abby, whose sapphire-blue eyes watched him warily. “Look, I don’t like my stepfather. I’ve never liked him. Partly that’s my own bias, because I loved my father and felt my mother had betrayed his memory by marrying Mitch. But whether my dislike of the man translates into him being capable of plotting a double murder…” He shook his head.
“I’m sorry,” Abby apologized. “I didn’t want to suggest it, but with your mother alone on the island with him right now, and with the power cut and the radio tampered with, I guess I got spooked.” Her small hand reached for his, her delicate fingers curving over his knuckles.
Scott looked down at her hand. It would have been the most natural thing in the world to take her hand, to hold her as he had in the woods. But until he knew why she was carrying an engagement ring