Mac's first instinct was to step forward and take credit where credit was due. But as much as he wanted to for more reasons than he cared to admit, he couldn't. He told himself there was no way Jill would believe that this Arnie was the man, would she?

He drove back to the houseboat. Who the h.e.l.l was Arnie Evans, anyway? Mac had seen Jill's adverse reaction to the man-and his story. More importantly, why was the man lying? To save Jill? Or himself?

It didn't take Mac long at the Beach Bar to find out that Arnie Evans had supposedly been Trevor Forester's best friend. And that he had not only invested in the Inspiration Island development, he worked out there.

After a phone call to his cop buddy Charley Johnson, Mac found out that Arnie had run into some trouble with the law when he was younger. Twice he'd been picked up for having s.e.x with underage girls. Both times he'd gotten off, supposedly because Trevor had paid off the parents of the girls.

Arnie had been one of the people the local sheriff had looked at in the cases of the missing teens. But they'd never been able to get anything on him.

Mac could feel himself getting deeper and deeper into Trevor Forester's murder. He started beating the bushes, looking for Shane, in a race against the clock. Come dark, he would be camped outside Jill Lawson's apartment-a dangerous place for him to be in more ways than one.

JILL COULDN'T RECALL a worse day.

Both Deputies Duncan and Samuelson seemed satisfied that Arnie Evans was her mystery lover-and her alibi for the time of the murder. As crazy as it seemed, she preferred being a suspect in Trevor Forester's murder than this.

After Arnie promised to go to the sheriff's department and make a statement, the deputies left. Duncan gave her an apologetic nod. Samuelson merely looked from Arnie to her and back, obviously disgusted that she'd made love with Trevor's best friend on the night her fiance was murdered.

Samuelson didn't know the half of it. If Arnie was telling the truth, she'd made love with a man she couldn't stand the sight of.

Her face burned with embarra.s.sment as she watched the deputies leave. Finally she made herself look at Arnie. It was difficult. "Maybe they believe your story, but I don't."

"You sure hold a grudge a long time," Arnie said. "I think the reason I bugged you so much when were kids is that I just wanted you to notice me."

"Oh, I noticed you all right."

"I always liked you. It really ticked me off the way Trevor treated you." He sounded sincere. Then he got to his feet. "I should get going. I'm sorry if you're disappointed I was the man with you. I didn't mean to embarra.s.s you. I had a feeling you wouldn't be happy about...us. I just couldn't let them ha.s.sle you anymore. And you were right, I did hear about that through my cousin. You know how news travels in this town."

Jill groaned. The whole town knew about her tryst in the lake cottage last night-and now they'd hear it was with Arnie.

"It'll blow over," he said as if reading her mind. "And don't worry. I won't bother you, considering how you feel about things...now."

She'd never seen this side of Arnie before. He was being much nicer than she ever would have guessed. Was it possible he really had been the man in the cottage?

It was that first kiss, she realized. The moment their lips had touched. That kiss had melted all her anger, resentment, fears about Trevor. She'd been seduced by a kiss. A kiss from Arnie Evans?

She cringed at the thought, even with him acting almost human. She just couldn't imagine him being the generous, loving man who'd transported her to another world and introduced her to pa.s.sion. It had been more than s.e.x. She had bonded with that man and now missed him, ached for him. And her heart and soul told her he wasn't Arnie Evans.

Arnie walked to the door and stopped. "I know Trevor could be a real jacka.s.s, but he was my best friend."

"Is that why you decided to give me an alibi?" she asked.

He shook his head, his dark gaze meeting hers. He really did seem shy around her without Trevor here. "I told the truth, Jill. I'm sorry, but it was me last night." He turned and started toward the door.

"Arnie?"

He stopped, his back to her.

"Did you know about the woman Trevor was seeing, Rachel?"

He didn't turn around. "I knew there was someone. I saw her driving your car once."

"Do you know her name?"

"Rachel. That's all I knew. But she never really mattered to Trevor. He was just stringing her along like he did all women."

He was planning to marry this one. "I appreciate you trying to help me," she said, feeling a little guilty. She swore she'd never have s.e.x again.

Moments later she glanced out the window and saw Arnie getting into a new black sports car-the same one that had been parked in front of the bakery this morning.

Why would Arnie be sitting across the street in his car at three-thirty in the morning watching her bakery? Was it possible he'd been considering telling her he was the man? Could she be wrong about him?

AFTER ARNIE LEFT, Jill called to get her locks replaced, remembering that someone had Trevor's key to her apartment. Brenna called just as she was getting ready to leave.

"Trevor never applied for a marriage license or got any blood tests and-are you ready for this?-he cashed in the second ticket, the one for Rachel Forester, the day before before the party," Brenna said. "Either he changed his mind about marrying her, or he never planned to." the party," Brenna said. "Either he changed his mind about marrying her, or he never planned to."

Maybe Arnie had been right about Trevor not caring about Rachel.

"I would say she had a great motive for murder if she found out," Brenna noted.

"No kidding." But what had she been looking for at the condo if not the ticket?

After they hung up, Jill changed clothes and drove out to meet with Alistair Forester, all the time thinking about motives for murder-and the other Scarlett. Was she Rachel?

The road to the Forester house was narrow and winding, providing glimpses of the lake through the cherry trees, some still heavy with fruit. Flathead cherries were famous and only grew on this side of the lake.

This early in the afternoon, the water was gla.s.sy smooth and green. The leaves of the cherry trees shimmered in the summer heat.

As the road narrowed even more along the rocky cliffs, Jill was reminded of the previous night when she'd been chasing her red Saturn. She'd thought it was Trevor driving her car. Instead, it must have been the other Scarlett.

As she parked the van, she caught sight of the cottage through the pine trees and felt a rush of emotion that had nothing to do with Arnie Evans. He couldn't have been the man, no matter what he said or how he acted or what evidence he was able to provide, she thought, remembering how she'd felt in the man's arms, the feelings he'd elicited from her.

The cottage seemed to pull her. She walked down to it and opened the door, peering inside. The deputies had already searched it. But still she had to look. Not that she knew what she was looking for.

The cottage was small. Just room enough for a bed, two club chairs, a small table and a bathroom. How had Arnie gotten the bra, she wondered, if he hadn't been the man? And what about the ring and her panties? Who had them?

She stood in the middle of the room. She could almost feel the man's presence, his touch such a clear memory her skin tingled and her body ached. She closed her eyes, sensing something of the man still there in the room, an intangible essence that a.s.sured her everything she believed about last night was true. Her lover was still masked, still a mystery, waiting to be found, wanting her as badly as she wanted him.

She opened her eyes. "Right. If he wants you so badly, where is he? Why hasn't he come looking for you? Why hasn't he come to your rescue?"

The only thing she could be sure of was that whoever the man had been last night, he'd stirred a desire in her she feared no other man could satisfy.

She started to leave, closing the door behind her, wishing she could close the door on last night as easily. The soles of her sandals sc.r.a.ped on something gritty on the floor. She looked down and saw what appeared to be mustard-colored dried mud on the threshold.

She bent and picked up a piece of it, surprised since she knew of no place around here that had mud that color. Crumbling it in her fingers, she had a flash of memory. She'd seen this kind of dried mud before. On Trevor's boots the last time he'd come into the bakery from the island!

ALISTAIR OPENED the door at Jill's knock. He looked ten years older, his face gray and drawn. Without a word, he hugged her.

"I am so sorry," Jill whispered.

He nodded wordlessly, his eyes shining with fresh tears as he led her to his den. "I had the maid make us some lemonade."

She wasn't thirsty but took the drink he offered her and sat down beside him on the sofa, wondering where Heddy was.

He seemed nervous, unsure, something totally alien for a man like him. "I know things weren't...good between you and my son."

She nodded. "I hadn't really seen Trevor lately. I had the feeling he'd been avoiding me. I wanted to believe it was just his work, but I think I knew better. I was going to break off the engagement last night, even before I found out there was someone else."

"Another woman," Alistair said.

"Yes. Did you know about her?"

He shook his head. "I'm sorry. You know how delighted I was that you were going to be part of our family. Trevor knew my sentiments, as well." His eyes filled with more tears. He squeezed her hand. "I am deeply saddened that you won't be my daughter-in-law."

She smiled. "Thank you."

"If there is anything you need, anything at all, please let me know," he said. "The funeral is tomorrow. Heddy insisted we open it up to the entire town. I think she needs to see a big turnout."

Jill nodded in understanding.

"We thought it was best to have it as soon as the coroner released the...body." His voice broke. "What did Trevor do that made someone want to kill him?"

Jill took Alistair's hand, knowing how hard this must be on him. How many women had Trevor been stringing along? Had one of them killed him?

"I hadn't seen Trevor much myself lately," Alistair said, composing himself. "Not since I cut him off financially." He nodded at Jill's surprise. "I know Trevor had planned to leave town last night. The sheriff said he'd purchased a second plane ticket. For a Mrs. Forester. A Rachel Forester. I told myself there must be some mistake."

Jill shook her head. There was no mistake. "There was a woman at the party dressed in the same costume I had on. It seems she planned to take my place once Trevor broke the news to me."

Alistair shook his head. "Despicable behavior. I am so ashamed." He closed his eyes as if he was in pain. "I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault," she said.

He shook his head. "Yes, it is," he said opening his eyes again. "Heddy and I spoiled Trevor, and kept right on spoiling him. We gave him everything he ever asked for. Including that awful island. He wanted it so badly. As much as I disliked the idea, I thought he might make something of it. I thought it might...change him. Unfortunately his intent seems to have only been to swindle the people who trusted him, myself and the other investors. Inspiration Island indeed. I guess it was Trevor's little joke on us all."

"Who were the other investors?" Jill asked, suddenly wondering if one of the investors had found out about the swindle and killed Trevor.

Alistair named four people: Wesley Morgan, a local landowner; J. P. Davies, a retired computer whiz with a summer home on the lake-J.P. never spent more than a few weeks at the lake each year; and Arnie and Burt Evans.

Arnie's father invested in Inspiration Island? Burt Evans had owned a gas station in Polson, at the south end of the lake. He'd died in May from a heart attack, but Jill doubted he'd had much to invest. She'd always gotten the impression he'd barely sc.r.a.ped by.

"Trevor was much deeper in debt than I suspected," Alistair said. "Even if he had completed the island project, he couldn't have made enough to get himself out of debt and pay back the investors. Finishing the project is out of the question."

"What will happen to the island?" Jill asked.

"No one wanted that island before because of its history. Now its value is diminished because of the mess Trevor made out there," Alistair said.

How had Trevor made such a mess of things? She felt so sorry for Alistair. And Heddy. The woman must be beside herself. Trevor was her baby boy. He could do no wrong. "How is Heddy? This must be devastating for her on top of everything else."

"Your concern is touching," Heddy said sarcastically from the doorway, making them both turn in surprise.

Jill wondered how long Heddy had been standing there listening. Jill hurriedly stood and started toward the woman, but Heddy stopped her short.

"What are you doing here?" Heddy demanded.

Jill was taken aback. "Alistair asked me to-"

"I needed to talk to her about Trevor," Alistair said, pushing himself up from the couch.

"She never loved our son," Heddy accused, her eyes hard as stones as she glared at Jill. "I heard you say you weren't going to marry him. For all I know you killed him!"

"Heddy! Don't be ridiculous!" Alistair cried.

Heddy ignored him, her eyes like daggers. "This is all your fault, Jill. I told Alistair not to force Trevor into marrying you. 'Get yourself a nice girl. A girl like that Jill Lawson,' Heddy mimicked. "'Otherwise, you're not going to get a red cent of my money!' Isn't that what you told him, Alistair?"

"Heddy, for G.o.d's sake-"

"If you'd been half the woman Trevor needed, he wouldn't have gotten involved with that other woman and he'd be alive today," Heddy said angrily.

"No," Alistair said, taking his wife by the shoulders and turning her to face him. "Don't you dare blame this poor girl for our son's behavior. Don't you dare."

Heddy crumpled against him, sobbing in horrible gasps. Alistair held his wife to him, his eyes br.i.m.m.i.n.g with tears as he looked over Heddy's silver-blond head at Jill.

"I'm so sorry," Jill whispered.

Alistair closed his eyes.

Jill quietly slipped out, mortified by what she'd learned. Trevor had only asked her to marry him to please his father-and get the Forester money. Amazing that Trevor could still humiliate her even in death.

As she left, she wondered what Heddy had meant about Trevor being alive today if he hadn't gotten involved with that woman. The other Scarlett?

Chapter Seven.