She stilled. “I beg your pardon?”
“I just figured I’d better break up that little one-sided skirmish before you cast any more nasty aspersions on Decatur’s masculinity.”
She was not quite sure how to take that. “Oh.” She narrowed her eyes, trying to see his face against the pale light. “You, uh, care about Perry’s fragile male ego?”
“Not particularly. But intimidation is a precious tool. Push a guy like Decatur too hard, and it can backfire on you. He might try to take revenge.”
“Hah. There’s nothing he can do to me.”
“Not to you maybe, but he could sure make life hell at the institute for your friend’s husband.”
She stared at him for a beat or two as the implications sank in. “You’re right. If Brad gets the appointment, he’ll have to work with Perry, won’t he?”
“Maybe not directly, but he won’t be able to avoid him altogether. They’ll be colleagues, after all. I’m sure Brad can take care of himself, but why make things any harder than necessary for him?”
“Damn.” She drummed he fingers on the edge of the seat and gazed morosely through the front windshield. “I got a little carried away back there, didn’t I?”
“Perfectly natural reaction,” he assured her. “Victory can make a person giddy.”
“Apparently.” She frowned. “So how come it was okay for you to threaten to bounce him around, but it wasn’t okay for me to make rude remarks?”
He exhaled with an air of long-suffering patience. “Because I’m a man and I was making a direct threat.”
“Ah, yes, I get it.” She nodded wisely. “Macho challenge stuff.”
“A challenge that Decatur was never forced to answer or back down from because you intervened, thus saving both his bacon and his pride.”
She thought about that. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you? You knew I’d put a stop to anything that looked as if it would turn into real violence.”
“Pretty sure, yeah.”
“How did you know that?”
He grinned. “Instinct.”
“Yours or mine?”
“Yours.”
She pursed her lips. “You mean you just assumed that because I’m female I would automatically move to stop a couple of males from getting into a brawl?”
“It had nothing to do with the fact that you’re female. Believe me, I’ve met women who love to watch men fight. But I figured that any successful wedding consultant would have developed finely-tuned radar when it comes to scenes. The last thing anyone wants at a wedding is a brawl, right?”
“Well, yes, that’s true, of course.”
“I figured you’d be good at intervening in a confrontation,” he concluded a little too innocently.
“Hmm.”
“And you did get in a few zingers,” he reminded her. “I heard them. Decatur took some well-placed hits.”
She thought about Perry’s words. No wonder your engagement fell apart. What man in his right mind wants to go to bed every night with a woman who can’t stop lecturing? The invisible balloon of her triumph began to deflate.
She exhaled deeply. “Perry got in a few good thumps of his own.”
“That’s okay. You can handle them. You’re tough, aren’t you?” He started to close the door. “Hey, you’re a Harte.”
“Right. I’m a Harte.” She continued to gaze out into the darkness on the other side of the windshield. “And what’s more, I’m—”
She broke off, startled, when an apparition materialized out of the night directly in front of the car. In the cold glare of the parking lot lamp she saw a figure garbed in black pants, black running shoes, and black gloves. The hood of a black sweatshirt was pulled down over a face smeared with daubs of dark paint.
Rafe glanced over his shoulder, nodded casually. “ ’Evening, A.Z. Nice night for recon work.”
“Heard you were back in town, Rafe,” Arizona Snow said. “Always figured you’d return someday to expose the bastards who tried to frame you for the Sadler girl’s murder.”
“Well, now that you mention it, that wasn’t exactly the reason I came back,” Rafe replied. “You see, Hannah and I have this little inheritance problem.”
“Dreamscape,” Arizona said briskly in a cigar- and whiskey-roughened voice. “I know all about that, too. Isabel was a good friend of mine. If you ask me, it makes a great cover for you.” She peered into the Porsche. “Nice to see you, Hannah. Come back to help Rafe flush out the rats?”
Hannah smiled slightly. “Good evening, Arizona.”
“My, don’t you look fancy tonight.” Arizona squinted. “What the devil are you two doin’ hanging around with this crowd at the institute? Part of your investigation?”
“Our being back in town has nothing to do with Kaitlin’s death, A.Z. ,” Rafe said gently. “It was an accident. You know that.”
“Bulldooky. Suckers here at the institute offed her for some reason. She probably knew too much about somethin’ going on up here.”
“How would she have known anything about the institute?” Hannah asked curiously.
“Kaitlin slept around a lot,” Arizona said. She shot a piercing look at Rafe. “Reckon you know that.”
Rafe cleared his throat but did not say anything. Hannah glanced at him, but he deftly managed to avoid her eyes.
“Always figured poor Kaitlin slept with the wrong guy,” Arizona continued. “Someone connected to the institute. Probably talked in his sleep. Or maybe she just saw some papers or something. They figured they had to get rid of her. The killers must have panicked when Chief Yates started investigatin’, so they decided they needed a fall guy and tried to pin it on you, Rafe. Probably picked you on accounta everyone knew you’d been seeing a lot of Kaitlin that summer.”
“An interesting theory,” Rafe said neutrally.
“But thanks to Hannah here, the big plan fell apart.” Arizona clenched a fist and pumped it into the air. “Once in a while we throw a wrench into the bastards’ plans. Gives me hope that someday we’ll expose the whole damned pack of weasels.”
Rafe glanced at the black plastic binder in her hand. “What are you doing here tonight?”
“Keeping my logbooks up to date, of course.” Arizona tapped the binder with one black-gloved finger. “Until the rest of you wake up and smell the coffee, someone has to keep an eye on what goes on up here at the institute. Someday folks will realize that this so-called think tank is a cover for a secret government operation that operates outside the law. When that day comes, everyone’s going to be real glad to have my logs.”