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Bellamy spoke before he could. “I chartered a flight with Dent in the hope of mending fences.”
“It didn’t work. In fact, Mother was terribly upset over seeing him.”
“Yes, I know.”
“So why is he here with you now?”
After a lengthy hesitation, she said, “Someone has been menacing me for weeks. I need to know who and why.”
She recapped for Steven everything that had happened and ended by saying, “I haven’t told Olivia or Daddy. Please don’t mention it, because they don’t need another worry. But we—Dent and I—don’t think the acts of vandalism done to my house and his airplane were random or coincidental. Whoever committed them is somehow connected to that Memorial Day.”
He frowned skeptically. “That’s an awfully broad leap, isn’t it?”
“Dent and I have nothing else in common.”
Steven gave each of them a long look. “I’m connected to that day. Did you come to accuse me of painting a threat on your bedroom wall?”
“Of course not.” She reached for his hand. “I’m hoping you’ll share some of your recollections and impressions of that day.”
“To what end? You’ve already written the book on it.”
Dent snickered at the wry remark. She didn’t acknowledge it. She had decided that, for the time being, she would tell no one else about her lost frames of time. But it was important that Steven fill in some of the gaps. “Will you answer a few questions?”
He looked annoyed. “What purpose will be served by talking about it?”
“Humor me. Please.”
He considered it for a moment, then gave her a brusque nod.
She wasted no time. “Shortly before the tornado, you left the pavilion and went down to the boathouse.”
Another curt nod.
“Why? Why were you going to the boathouse?”
“For beer.”
“Beer? You hated beer. You told me that you had tried it at a party and hated the taste.”
He shrugged. “I wanted to give it another try. Word had got around that some guys had smuggled beer to the boathouse. I went to check it out, but no one was there. Only a bunch of cans. I was on my way back to the pavilion when somebody spotted the funnel and everybody started screaming. I was nearer the boathouse, so I ran back and took cover there.”
She nodded absently. “When I came after you—”
“When you came after me?”
“To warn you of the approaching storm.”
“You did?”
His reaction mystified her. “Why does that surprise you? It was in the book. If you read it—”
“I did. But I thought you were only capsulizing for narrative clarity.”
“That’s not the way you remember it?”
“After I left the pavilion, I didn’t see you again until you were rescued from the wreckage of the boathouse.”
“You didn’t see me there earlier?”
