"No. I'm here to get the Seagull Cottage key from your father. Laura Scott and I will be staying there for a while."

"Why?" he asked, watching me drip on the floor. He was wearing sweats and running shoes. He was perfectly dry. I didn't answer him, "Do both you and your father work here at home?"

"For the most part. I usually knock off about five o'clock to either go to the gym or out running. Why are you and Laura Scott staying at our cottage?"

"Because someone tried to kill her and it seems safer if she's here, with me, than in Salem by herself. It's a bit on the wet side to go running, isn't it?"

"Yes. I'm working out downstairs in the gym. Where's Laura Scott?"

"In the car."

"Does she know Jilly?"

"Oh yes, she knows Jilly very well."

Alyssum Tarcher came striding down the stairs off to my right. He looked arrogant and intelligent, his eyes at that moment maybe even harder than his son's. He seemed somehow taller to me than he had just the night before.

"Agent MacDougal," he said, and shook my hand. "Here's the key to Seagull Cottage. I made sure the place was cleaned up and the phone works. Given this weather, I checked to make sure there's heat as well. This Laura Scott, she's with you?"

"Yes, waiting for me in the car. Since someone tried to kill her, she's keeping my gun on her at all times." I suppose I should have mentioned Grubster and Nolan, but you never knew about a landlord, and I didn't want the pets to give him an excuse for us not to use his property. I thanked him and turned to leave.

"Agent MacDougal, call me if there's a problem-of any kind at all."

"Yeah," Cotter said. "My father chews on problems and spits out solutions."

Alyssum Tarcher laughed and buffeted his son's shoulder with a light shove.

"Who is it, Aly?"

Elaine Tarcher didn't wait for an answer, just came running lightly down the stairs. Like her son, she was wearing sweats and running shoes, and she didn't look much older than Cal. I realized I hadn't thought about Cal 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?"