Silent Fall

friend of theirs had almost died from a diet pill obtained from the same doctor."
    "And is that where the senator got his idea?" Catherine asked.
    Dylan nodded. "That’s my guess."
    "It’s a pretty good way to kill your wife, because even with all your evidence, it wouldn’t be easy to prove beyond a reasonable doubt."
    "I agree. It’s not a slam dunk, but when you lay everything out the picture is pretty clear as to what happened. Whether or not the DA can get a conviction is still to be determined."
    "It certainly sounds like the senator has a good reason to hate you, since he was getting away with murder before you got involved. If he killed his wife, then he probably wouldn’t hesitate to kill again. But wouldn’t he hate Erica just as much as you -- if not more? She betrayed him as well. Why would he use her to set you up? Why wouldn’t he set you both up?"
    Catherine made a good point. It was something he’d been thinking about as well.
    "Maybe that’s what he did," Catherine mused, continuing. "Perhaps Erica thought she was setting you up, but in actuality..."
    "Ravino was setting her up, too," Dylan finished. "If that’s the case, then Erica could be... in danger." He couldn’t bring himself to use the word dead . He hoped to God she was still alive, but he couldn’t deny that the facts were leading in the other direction. And if that was the case, it was his fault. He was the one who’d found her, who’d made her talk, who’d told her she’d be safer going to the police with her tape than keeping her mouth shut.
    "Dylan, don’t go there," Catherine said. "You’re not to blame."
    "Shit," he swore in annoyance. "Are you reading my mind now?"
    "I’m reading your expression. It’s obvious you’re starting to feel guilty. But you should at least wait until you have your precious facts and see what they add up to."
    "Unfortunately, I don’t have very many facts," he grumbled.
    She paused, tipping her head toward his computer. "What are you looking for now?"
    "I’m not sure. First I’d just like to see if anyone has been on my computer or opened any of my files. That might lead me in a specific direction. I also want to refresh my memory on what I know about Erica. If she’s still alive and on the run, I need to figure out where she might hide."
    "If she was meant to disappear and make it look like murder, she’d have to go far," Catherine said. "She’d have to vanish in a very complete way, no contact with her friends, no use of her credit cards, no trips to her apartment. She would have had to plan her next stop after this before she ever came here."
    Catherine’s reasoning was right on the money. She wasn’t just a quirky psychic painter with a smoking-hot body; she also had a very good brain. And she seemed to understand how people thought. Smart, pretty, and mysterious -- a dangerous combination.
    "You’re going to have to think like Erica," Catherine continued. "Where would you go if you were in her shoes?"
    "Probably some remote island in the South Pacific."
    Catherine smiled. "That sounds good to me, too."
    He grinned back at her. "A few rum drinks with umbrellas in ’em and I could hide out for a while. I’m sure whoever convinced Erica to participate in this plot persuaded her that she could lead a very luxurious life with enough money to make her happy, and all she had to do was put something in my drink and take me into the woods. Easy as pie."
    "Then the double cross," Catherine said. "I would have expected that."
    "You’re smarter than Erica, but to be fair, we don’t know that she didn’t anticipate the double cross."
    "What I felt at her cabin was surprise. Something unexpected happened last night. Someone showed up at her door who wasn’t part of the plan."
    Catherine’s analysis made sense, but he still didn’t have any hard facts to back up her theory.
    Catherine shook her head, her gaze meeting his. "You’re such a skeptic, Dylan. Haven’t you ever had an intuition about something, an instinct that you couldn’t explain, but it came true?"
    "I suppose," he conceded. "Don’t take it personally. It’s just the way I am." He turned toward his computer, then paused. "Before I do anything else, I want to call Erica."
    "Why? She’s not going to answer, and won’t that raise even more suspicion when the cops get her telephone