Eclipse Bay

been anywhere near Rafe Madison.”
    “I’m well aware of the fact that Hartes don’t socialize with Madisons,” Yates rumbled. “But young Rafe swears he was with Hannah here, and I got to check out his story.”
    The full implications of what he was saying finally hit Hannah. “I don’t understand. You just said Kaitlin’s death was an accident. Is there some question about how she died?”
    “Can’t rule out the possibility that she jumped.” Yates wrapped one ham-size fist around a mug of coffee. “That girl always was kind of high-strung.”
    Elaine frowned. “She comes from an unfortunate family situation, but I never heard anyone suggest that she might be suicidal.”
    Yates sipped his coffee. “There’s another possibility.”
    They all looked at him expectantly.
    “There may have been an argument,” Yates said quietly.
    “My God,” Elaine whispered. “Are you saying she might have been pushed off the path?”
    Hannah planted her hands on the table “Wait a second. Are you suggesting that Rafe Madison killed Kaitlin?”
    “Could have been an accident,” Yates said. “Like I said, maybe they got into a fight.”
    “But that’s crazy. Why would Rafe do such a thing?”
    “Word around town is that he didn’t like the fact that she was seeing other men,” Yates said.
    “Yes, but—”
    Hamilton looked at her. “Rafe is trying to use you for an alibi, honey. I don’t like him dragging you into this one damn bit. But I’ll deal with that later.”
    “Dad, listen to me—”
    “Right now you just need to tell Yates where you were last night between midnight and two this morning.”
    Hannah braced herself for the explosion she knew would follow. “I was with Rafe Madison.”

    Kaitlin Sadler’s death was officially ruled an accident three days later. It took a lot longer for the firestorm of gossip to fade. The news that Hannah had been with Rafe Madison the night Kaitlin died swept through the small community with the force of a tsunami. Few believed for a moment that the pair had engaged only in casual conversation.
    The one person who seemed genuinely happy about the fact that Rafe and Hannah had spent two whole hours together on a moonlit beach was Hannah’s great-aunt Isabel Harte.
    At eighty-three, Isabel was the sole self-avowed romantic in the family. She was a retired professor of English lit who had never married. She lived alone at Dreamscape, the huge three-story mansion her father had built with the fortune he had made in fishing.
    It was Isabel who had provided the seed funding for Harte-Madison, the commercial real estate development company founded by Sullivan Harte and Mitchell Madison all those years ago. The bitter feud that had destroyed the firm as well as the friendship between Sullivan and Mitchell was a source of frustration and disappointment to Isabel. She still harbored dreams of ending the rift that had shattered the partnership and ignited the hostility between the two men.
    Hannah was very fond of her great-aunt. She was also well aware that her parents had been trying to get Isabel to sell Dreamscape and move into an apartment in Portland. But Isabel refused to budge.
    On the fourth day of the seething rumors, Isabel sat with Elaine Harte in the Harte family kitchen.
    “It’s so romantic,” Isabel said, blithely indifferent to Elaine’s exasperated expression. “Just like Romeo and Juliet.”
    “That’s ridiculous,” Elaine gasped.
    “Darn right,” Hannah said from the doorway. “We all know what happened to Romeo and Juliet. A very nasty ending, if you ask me.”
    “This would be Romeo and Juliet with the right ending,” Isabel said, unperturbed. “A happy conclusion that would end the long-standing feud between the two families.”
    Elaine raised her eyes to the heavens. “Sullivan and Mitchell are engaged in a feud, Isabel. The rest of us just ignore each other. Rafe Madison has no real interest in a nice girl like Hannah.”
    “Gee, thanks, Mom.” Hannah went to the counter to pour herself a cup of coffee. “Why don’t you just label me boring and be done with it?”
    Elaine gave her a repressive look. “You know perfectly well what I meant.”
    “I sure do, Mom.” Hannah made a face. “And you’re absolutely right. Rafe doesn’t have any interest in me. I’m not his type.”
    Isabel’s vivid blue eyes brightened with interest. “Whatever do you mean, dear?”
    Hannah smiled wryly. “Rafe thinks I’m a prim, prissy,