There was a chunk of leftover feta cheese on the plate that sat on the drainboard. Winston was positioned at Rafe’s feet, looking expectant.

Hannah came to a halt in the doorway. “What’s going on here?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Rafe said. He dropped a bit of the cheese into Winston’s waiting jaws. “Came down here to get a bite to eat.” He held up the knife. “Want some?”

“No, thanks.” She was torn between the urge to let him drop a bite of cheese into her mouth and the knowledge that if she had any sense she would hurry back upstairs. As was so often the case when she was caught between two equally opposing forces, she did nothing. “I was afraid that Winston had heard a prowler outside.”

“Nope.” Rafe ate some more cheese. “He must have heard me come downstairs a few minutes ago. How about you? Sleeping okay up there on the third floor?”

“I was sleeping just fine until Winston decided to follow you down here.”

Rafe studied her with an unreadable expression as he munched cheese. “Hey, that’s just great. Lot of people don’t sleep well in a strange environment, you know? Sometimes they just lay there staring at the ceiling and think about things.”

“Things?”

“Yeah.” He sliced off another bit of cheese. “Things.”

“Right. Things.” The dangerously enigmatic shimmer in his eyes was starting to worry her. It was definitely time to retreat, she decided. She gripped the lapels of her robe and took a step back. “Well, as long as everything is okay down here, I’ll go back to bed.”

“You ever do that, Hannah? Just lie in bed and think about things?”

She hesitated. “Sometimes.”

“I’ve been doing it a lot lately.”

“Is that so?”

He put some cheese on a cracker and then popped the whole morsel into his mouth. “Aren’t you going to ask me what kind of things I think about?”

She took another wary step back, not trusting his odd mood. “None of my business,” she said crisply.

“Don’t be so sure of that. Tonight, for instance, one of the things I was thinking about was who, besides Bev Bolton, might be able to give us a few insights into the bedroom lives of our friends and neighbors here in Eclipse Bay. I had an idea.”

She folded her arms and propped one shoulder against the doorjamb. “Don’t tell me one of your buddies is the local Peeping Tom?”

“He would be highly offended at the suggestion. I always had the impression that he sees himself as a lone crusader for freedom, privacy, and the First Amendment.”

“I assume we are not talking about the head of the public library.”

“Nope.” Rafe ate more cheese. “I’m going to talk to my potential informant tomorrow while Mitchell is in Portland.”

“I’m probably going to regret this, but I want to be there when you talk to this person.” She paused delicately. “Who is it we’re going to see?”

“Virgil Nash.”

She winced. “I don’t suppose there’s any way we can talk to him without someone finding out.”

“Doubt it. Still want to come with me?”

She decided to be philosophical about the situation. “Ah, well. It’s not as if I have anything but a few tattered threads left of my reputation here in Eclipse Bay, anyway. What do I care if the whole town finds out that I was seen entering the local  p**n  dealer’s shop with you?”

“That’s the spirit,” Rafe said with enthusiasm. “Virgil’s Adult Books and Video Arcade is just the kind of place folks would expect me to take a nice girl like you.”

“Nobody ever said you didn’t know how to show a lady a good time.” She turned away to seek the safety of the third floor.

“I was thinking about something else besides Virgil Nash,” Rafe continued in a conversational tone. “I also thought a lot about phobias.”

Her mouth went dry. So he had overheard her awkward conversation with Mitchell. An ominous sensation rolled through her. She turned very slowly in the doorway to face him.

“I was afraid of that,” she said.

“You know, my grandfather may be right. Perhaps the best way to get over a phobia is to confront it head-on. Just do it, you know?”

She cleared her throat. “I’m no expert on phobias, but it seems to me that that approach would be likely to trigger severe panic attacks.”

“Hadn’t thought of that.”

“I suggest you do think about it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to bed.”

“Hannah?”

She looked back unwillingly. “Now what?”

“If I’m the one with the phobia, how come you’re the one who looks panicked?”

“Good night, Rafe.” She fled toward the stairs.

Winston did not return to the third-floor bedroom right away. When he finally did come back upstairs, his fur was cool and damp. Hannah realized that Rafe had taken him outside for a late-night walk.

“What did you two talk about out there?” she whispered.

Winston did not reply. He settled into position at the foot of the bed and promptly went to sleep.

“Guys always stick together.”

She tried to go back to sleep. It was hard work. For a long time, she just stared at the ceiling and thought about things.

Chapter 19

Virgil’s Adult Books and Video Arcade was located less than a hundred feet beyond the official boundary of the town of Eclipse Bay. When he had established his business fifteen years earlier, Virgil had been careful to select a location that was just outside the reach of local reformers, civic activists, and members of the town council who saw running the local  p**n  store out of town as a sure ticket to reelection.

“It’s the old law of real estate,” Virgil had once explained to Rafe. “Location, location, location.”

While convenience had been of paramount importance, Virgil had also realized that most of his clientele would also appreciate a measure of privacy while they made their purchases. With the aim of providing customers with that treasured commodity, he had placed the small parking lot behind the shop rather than in front, where familiar vehicles might be noted by neighbors, business acquaintances, and parents who happened to drive past.

“I can’t believe I’m taking my dog into a place like this.” Hannah scowled at the sign over the shop’s rear entrance as she snapped the leash onto Winston’s collar. “I can only hope that he doesn’t realize what sort of business this is.”