"Yeah."
"All right. I'll be in touch."
Riley closed the phone and placed it, still plugged into the vehicle's power socket, on the console between the two front seats. Then she automatically leaned back away from it.
Ash said, "Have another PowerBar."
Riley dug into her shoulder bag for one of the half dozen she'd brought with her, saying only, "It's getting obvious, isn't it?"
"Your hands are shaking," Ash replied. "There are a few bottles of orange juice in the cooler behind your seat. After what happened yesterday at the crime scene, I figured I'd better stock up."
She managed to get a bottle without having to climb back there, and washed down the PowerBar with the juice. "This," she said, "is getting ridiculous."
"It's getting scary," Ash said, his tone remaining calm, almost offhand. "I know you said things could get worse, but…"
"This isn't what you bargained for. Sorry."
Ash sent her a glance. "I can handle whatever I have to, Riley. You're the one I'm worried about."
She drew a deep breath and released it slowly, trying to focus, to steady herself. "I have to figure out what's going on. If there really are black-occult rites being practiced here, and why. Why Wesley Tate died and whether I was somehow involved in his murder. Why I was attacked. Even why I'm getting worse instead of better when the attack against me was days ago. It all fits somehow. It's all part of the puzzle. I just have to find all the pieces."
"And then put them together so they make sense."
"Yeah." Riley reached for another PowerBar. "And I've got around thirty hours in which to do it. Otherwise, by the end of the day tomorrow, Bishop will recall me. And I'll spend the next month being tested from my DNA outward and looking at inkblots for SCU doctors."
"For a number of reasons," Ash said conversationally, "I'd rather that not happen."
"Me either."
"So how can I help?"
"Just try to keep me focused."
"Do my best." He turned the Hummer into the short driveway of Wesley Tate's rental and parked.
It wasn't a crime scene, so the big third-row house hadn't been taped off or left under guard. But Riley had nevertheless called Jake before they left her rental to ask his permission to go through the place, and also requested that he and Leah meet them at the Pearson rental in an hour or so.
He had agreed to both requests and cleared their visit to Wesley Tate's rental with the realtor, so someone from that office met them at the house with the key.
She was a gorgeous brunette dressed to kill-or seduce-and Riley knew the instant she set eyes on Colleen Bradshaw that here was one of those "available" women in Ash's life.
It wasn't just the outfit, far more dressy than was the norm on the island; realtors showed houses to prospective renters and buyers, and Riley had seen enough of them to know that most dressed well during office hours for just that reason. It wasn't even the warm smile or the way Colleen touched Ash's arm three times during the brief introduction to Riley.
It was the way that smile never reached her chilly gray eyes.
This woman hates me.
Riley was mildly surprised but not disturbed; she had too many things on her mind to worry about Ash's former lovers.
Much.
"Jake said I was to give you the key," Colleen said to Ash, handing it over as if it were a precious jewel that needed to be placed reverently into his palm. And caressed for a beat or two.
Riley shifted her stance slightly, just to make the gun she wore on her hip more obvious. "Thanks, Ms. Bradshaw," she said in the indifferently polite tone reserved for bank tellers and waitresses. "We'll see that it gets safely back to your office when we're done here."
"Of course. It was nice to meet you, Agent Crane."
"Likewise. Oh-Ms. Bradshaw? Did you meet Wesley Tate? Speak to him?"
"Sorry, no. Another agent handles this account."
"I see. Thank you."
"My pleasure. Ash, I'm sure we'll be talking."
"See you later, Colleen."
They both watched the tall brunette fold herself-with quite unnecessary ceremony, Riley thought-into her little sports car and drive away, and it wasn't until then that Riley said, "How long did that last? You two?"
Ash didn't seem surprised. "A few months over last winter."
"Obviously she wasn't the one who broke it off."
"No." Ash held up the key she'd given him. "Shall we?"
"Ah. You don't kiss and tell. Good to know."
"There isn't anything to tell." He led the way to the front steps of Wesley Tate's rental. "An attraction, but not a lot in common."
"A spark but no fire."
"Exactly."
"So how come she hates me?"
Ash was smiling faintly. "Does she hate you?"
"Innocent isn't a good face for you, Ash. There's something completely unnatural about it."
"Why would you think she hates you?"
"Let's just say I'm glad I was the one with the gun."
He paused at the top of the steps to look at her, still smiling. "Jealousy. This is a new side of you. I think I like it."
"I am not a jealous person. And I have nothing to be jealous about. Do I?"
"Of course not."
"Well, then." So what if that Amazon is six feet tall and dresses like she should be standing on a street corner somewhere? So what? Why is this bugging me so much?
Why am I even thinking about this?
"Okay, you're not a jealous person." Ash unlocked the door and opened it. "Shall we?"
"I'm really not a jealous person. And, anyway, you're supposed to be helping me stay focused."
"Right. Sorry."
I am a cop, and this is where a murder victim lived the last days of his life. At least-
"How long was Tate here before he was killed?" she asked, putting leggy brunettes out of her mind as they went into the house.
"Not long. He got here on Saturday." Ash was all business now.
"Jesus. Did he even have time to unpack?"
"According to Jake, there's clothing from an overnight bag in the master bedroom and a shaving kit in the master bath. Either he wasn't planning to stay long or expected to buy whatever else he needed."
They walked from the foyer into the great room, a living and dining area that lived up to its name; it was not only a huge, open space but had been decorated with high-end products and furnishings and the very latest thing in amenities, including a large-screen plasma TV and a fireplace.
Momentarily distracted yet again, Riley indicated the fireplace. "Does anybody around here even use those?"
"We have a few chilly nights in winter. Not many, as a rule, but a few. Rentals with fireplaces do better in winter, obviously."
"Oh. Makes sense, I guess." Focus, dammit. Focus. Riley looked around at what was a very large house, clearly designed to hold a dozen or more people. "How many bedrooms?"
"Six. And seven baths. There's a level below this floor and one above."
Frowning, Riley went over to one of two refrigerators and opened it. "Curiouser and curiouser," she said. "It's stocked." She checked the other one. "Both of them are stocked. Bet the pantry is too."
"Yeah, Jake said the local grocery store made a big delivery on Saturday, before Tate arrived. Prearranged. People go online and make out their shopping lists ahead of time; the store delivers as soon as the cleaning crew is out behind the previous tenants. The delivery people put away perishables and leave the rest on the counter for the renter."
"I had no idea you could do that," Riley said, closing the fridge door. "I just stopped on the way in and bought what I needed."
"Frozen pizza and PowerBars mostly. Yeah, I remember."
"If you don't cook, that's what you buy." She frowned again. "Question is, why did Tate have so much food delivered? What's in there would feed a dozen people or more for a couple of weeks."
"I would say he was expecting company. And for more than just a meal or two." Ash studied her. "Are you getting anything clairvoyantly?"