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Unless she has a gift, too, and why wouldn’t she?
Ravinia thought about laying her whole story on Rex Kingston, but decided against it. He was already balking at the bits and pieces she’d tried out on him. No surprise there. It was best to keep him in the dark, just like everyone else outside of her family.
She exhaled heavily and climbed back to her feet. Aunt Catherine had infected her with urgency and she’d taken off on her quest to find Elizabeth. Not long into the journey she’d seen the wolf. For one wild moment, she’d thought the shaggy animal was Silas in lupine form, but that really was crazy. Still, she’d thought the beast had meant her no harm, and these long weeks later, she wondered if he might have been a figment of her imagination.
Shaking her head, she dug into her backpack for her phone. Oh, to hell with it. She was tired of waiting. Quickly stabbing out Rex Kingston’s number, she held the phone to her ear, looking out the window and watching the motel manager trudge her way across the parking lot toward the outside stairway that led to Ravinia’s room.
“Pick up,” Ravinia said aloud into the phone. “Pick up, pick up, pick up. . . .”
Chapter 15
Peter Bellhard’s handshake was firm and quick. He dropped her hand almost immediately. “I follow local real estate and saw that you were putting on an open house.”
Elizabeth hung onto her smile with an effort even as her pulse sped up. She wasn’t sure what Whitney’s husband wanted, but she didn’t want to find out. Not here. Not now. Not while she was working.
Besides, she really didn’t know what to say to the man.
“You’re with Suncrest.” He walked over to the counter and picked up one of her cards, even though he’d probably seen the Suncrest Realty sign hanging from a post planted into the front yard.
“That’s right.”
He was tall, taller than Court, and wore a black dress shirt and gray slacks. His legs were long and his body lean and his hair was thick and dark with just the beginnings of salt amongst the pepper. He was nice-looking, in a plain sort of way, but she sensed he was on some kind of mission.
“I’m . . . I’m sorry for your loss,” she said and he scowled.
“Our loss.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “Our loss.”
When he didn’t say anything further, just thoughtfully fingered the card, the silence stretched awkwardly.
Finally she asked, “Is there something I can help you with?”
His head snapped up as if she’d brought him out of some kind of reverie. “I just thought we should meet,” he explained, focusing on her again. “After what happened, I wanted to . . . you know, see how you were doing.” He attempted a smile, but it fell away immediately.
“As good as can be expected, I guess. It’s a shock.”
“Did you know?” he asked suddenly. “About your husband and Whitney?”
She shook her head. “Not until the last couple days before he died.”
“How did you find out? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking?”
He sounded merely curious, but Elizabeth really didn’t want to talk about Court. “A friend saw them together and told me.”
“Saw them where?”
“At a restaurant.” Elizabeth felt herself shutting down. Guilt and sorrow were trying to take over again. “I heard you followed them to Rosarito Beach.”
He frowned. “Who told you that?”
“The woman detective. Thronson.”
He seemed surprised by that. “I thought cops were supposed to ask for information, not dole it out,” he said, his lips tight. “Yeah, I followed Whitney. Not that it was some cloak-and-dagger mission. Believe me, she and your husband were blatant about their affair. Maybe not at first. I don’t know. Maybe I wasn’t paying attention. But by the end, they sure were. I’d gotten sick of waiting around for her to come home and when she did show up, she’d start in with the lying. I called her on it a number of times, but she always acted like it was my problem. The jealousy.” His smile never reached his eyes. “A good defense is a strong offense, but I knew I wasn’t wrong. I figured there was another guy in the picture. All of a sudden she’s wearing perfume and has sacks of new clothes and lingerie. Black lace bras and panties. I even found a red teddy underneath the ratty pajamas she wore to bed with me.”
Elizabeth’s mouth was dry. She didn’t really know what to say, but out of curiosity asked, “How long did you know before . . . ?”
“A while. I confronted them in Rosarito Beach. Did you know that?”
