Eclipse Bay

“Perry got in a few good thumps of his own.”
    “That’s okay. You can handle them. You’re tough, aren’t you?” He started to close the door. “Hey, you’re a Harte.”
    “Right. I’m a Harte.” She continued to gaze out into the darkness on the other side of the windshield. “And what’s more, I’m—”
    She broke off, startled, when an apparition materialized out of the night directly in front of the car. In the cold glare of the parking lot lamp she saw a figure garbed in black pants, black running shoes, and black gloves. The hood of a black sweatshirt was pulled down over a face smeared with daubs of dark paint.
    Rafe glanced over his shoulder, nodded casually. “’Evening, A.Z. Nice night for recon work.”
    “Heard you were back in town, Rafe,” Arizona Snow said. “Always figured you’d return someday to expose the bastards who tried to frame you for the Sadler girl’s murder.”
    “Well, now that you mention it, that wasn’t exactly the reason I came back,” Rafe replied. “You see, Hannah and I have this little inheritance problem.”
    “Dreamscape,” Arizona said briskly in a cigar-and whiskey-roughened voice. “I know all about that, too. Isabel was a good friend of mine. If you ask me, it makes a great cover for you.” She peered into the Porsche. “Nice to see you, Hannah. Come back to help Rafe flush out the rats?”
    Hannah smiled slightly. “Good evening, Arizona.”
    “My, don’t you look fancy tonight.” Arizona squinted. “What the devil are you two doin’ hanging around with this crowd at the institute? Part of your investigation?”
    “Our being back in town has nothing to do with Kaitlin’s death, A.Z.,” Rafe said gently. “It was an accident. You know that.”
    “Bulldooky. Suckers here at the institute offed her for some reason. She probably knew too much about some-thin’ going on up here.”
    “How would she have known anything about the institute?” Hannah asked curiously.
    “Kaitlin slept around a lot,” Arizona said. She shot a piercing look at Rafe. “Reckon you know that.”
    Rafe cleared his throat but did not say anything. Hannah glanced at him, but he deftly managed to avoid her eyes.
    “Always figured poor Kaitlin slept with the wrong guy,” Arizona continued. “Someone connected to the institute. Probably talked in his sleep. Or maybe she just saw some papers or something. They figured they had to get rid of her. The killers must have panicked when Chief Yates started investigatin’, so they decided they needed a fall guy and tried to pin it on you, Rafe. Probably picked you on accounta everyone knew you’d been seeing a lot of Kaitlin that summer.”
    “An interesting theory,” Rafe said neutrally.
    “But thanks to Hannah here, the big plan fell apart.” Arizona clenched a fist and pumped it into the air. “Once in a while we throw a wrench into the bastards’ plans. Gives me hope that someday we’ll expose the whole damned pack of weasels.”
    Rafe glanced at the black plastic binder in her hand. “What are you doing here tonight?”
    “Keeping my logbooks up to date, of course.” Arizona tapped the binder with one black-gloved finger. “Until the rest of you wake up and smell the coffee, someone has to keep an eye on what goes on up here at the institute. Someday folks will realize that this so-called think tank is a cover for a secret government operation that operates outside the law. When that day comes, everyone’s going to be real glad to have my logs.”
    Hannah leaned slightly out of the car. “Did you put Rafe and me in your log tonight?”
    “Honey, I took down the license plate, make, and model of every car in this lot when it arrived, and that includes friends as well as suspects. Got to keep the record accurate.”
    “Something to be said for accuracy,” Hannah agreed.
    “I also noted the number of people in each vehicle and, where possible, the identities.” Arizona scowled. “Got to admit, I don’t always recognize everyone these days. Every year more strangers show up for meetings and parties here at the institute. In the old days I knew just about everyone who came and went. But not anymore. The web is widening daily.”
    Rafe eyed the logbook. “Are you going to write down the time that we leave?”
    “You bet. It’s the details that make the difference, you know. When the truth finally comes out, it will be the accumulation of a lot of tiny facts in these logs that will show how