The Edge

since, well, for a good while. "Mrs. Tarcher," I said, nodding. "Don't come any closer, I'm wet."

    "I see that you are. We heard about your problem with that drug. Are you all right?"

    "Yes, I'm just fine. Did Mr. Tarcher tell you that Laura Scott and I will be staying for a while at Seagull Cottage?"

    "Yes, he did tell me. He also told me that someone is trying to kill Ms. Scott. This isn't what we're used to, Agent MacDougal. You seem to have brought a good deal of trouble with you. We've never liked violence, only

    rarely seen it here in Edgerton. Until poor Charlie Duck. Have you heard anything about Jilly?"

    I said no and left three minutes later, sprinting back to the car under thick, cold rain that was coming down harder than ever and had me shivering even after five minutes with the car heater turned on high. Laura had put one of her jackets up against the shattered window. It kept the rain out, but the heat from the car seeped out quickly.

    I stopped off at Paul's house. I was relieved when he wasn't at home. Truth be told, I wasn't ready to confront him. The last thing I wanted to happen was to scare him into running, maybe even disappearing like Jilly.

    I packed up my clothes, left him a note telling him where I was, and didn't give him any explanation at all.

    We drove to a small grocery store called The Cove to stock up. Laura remained in the car both times, my SIG Sauer on her lap.

    It was dark when we arrived at Seagull Cottage, not more than fifty feet from the cliffs with, I imagined, a sweeping view up and down the Oregon coast. But not tonight. Only heavy, cold rain tonight that covered everything, leaving the ocean black and flat. There wasn't any wind at all and surely that was odd. The rain just came straight down, striking the ground hard as a slap. There were only about half a dozen spruce trees to soften the barren landscape.

    I unlocked the door, checked out the inside, and waved Laura in.

Chapter Fifteen

    At seven that evening we ate our dinner in front of the fireplace, chicken noodle soup and English muffins with butter dripping over the sides. Grubster lay sleeping at Laura's feet, sated from two cans of cat food, with just an occasional twitch. Nolan was under wraps for the night. "That was delicious," Laura said as she sat back on her hands and yawned.

    "Yes, it was," I said, barely managing to stifle my own yawn. "It's been a long day."

    She cocked an eye open. "You're being the master of understatement here?"

    For the life of me I was too tired to think of something clever to say to that wonderful straight line. I said, "You ready to hang it up?"

    Laura looked toward the cottage door. I could see the tension in her. "No," she said. "They wouldn't dare try anything here, in Edgerton."

    "I don't think so either. Tomorrow is Charlie Duck's funeral. I want to introduce you to everyone and start getting in Tarcher's face. As for Paul, I want to handle him very carefully. I don't want him running."

    "He'll never admit to anything, I'd swear to it. He'll protect Jilly."

    She was probably right. I was imagining what it would be like to put my hands around his neck, lift him off the floor, and shake him.

    "When Savich and Sherlock get here, we'll all discuss what's the best approach. They know we've got to act quickly."

    "Your friends sure have a lot of flexibility."

    "Yeah. They're both in the same unit and he's in charge. Savich's boss, Jimmy Maitland, usually gives him as much leeway as he wants. Besides, they're coming as my friends, not an official assignment.

    "Sherlock and Savich are first-class agents and very good friends. It's possible that they'll see things as outsiders that you and I have missed. They'll have some great ideas, you can count on that."

    "I don't know anyone like that in the DBA." She put her fingers on my lips. "No, don't you dare start up with cracks about my agency."

    "I wouldn't dream of it, Laura. Now, I'll hook a chair under the doorknob and I'll put my SIG right beside the bed. We've got the curtains pulled over the windows and everything's locked up tight. It'll be okay."

    "I guess there's nothing more that we can do. Goodness, it's only eight-thirty. It feels like it should be at least midnight, I'm so tired."

    "Why don't you take the bathroom first? I want to check around outside."

    "Be careful, Mac." She lightly touched her fingers to my face. "I mean it, be very careful. You've gotten kind of important to me, real fast."

    I