Brad met her eyes. “Then what’s the issue? Pamela has told me something about the history of the Hartes and the Madisons. I got the impression that there was no love lost between the two clans.”
“I’ll admit that we haven’t socialized much in the past three generations.”
“Why would Rafe Madison want to get involved in a business partnership with you?” Brad asked.
“Beats me.” Hannah decided it was time to change the subject. “How’s tricks with you, Brad?”
“As a matter of fact, I have some good news. I got a call from the director of the institute this morning. He offered me the joint appointment. I start the first of the month.”
“Yahoo!” Pamela leaped off the recliner and threw her arms around Brad. “Congratulations! I knew you’d get it.”
Brad grinned at Hannah over Pamela’s head. “I think I may have had a little help from my friends. Rumor has it that Perry Decatur mysteriously withdrew his objection to the appointment.”
“That little S.O.B.” Pamela made a face. “I knew he was the one who was holding up the process. He’s jealous as all get-out. He’s afraid you’re going to show him up for the lightweight he is once you’re on the faculty there. Which you will, of course. Wonder what made him back off?”
“Why don’t you ask Hannah?”
Pamela swung around, a hundred questions in her eyes. “What’s going on?”
“Not much,” Hannah said mildly. “Perry asked me to attend the Thornley reception last night. He wanted to impress everyone at the institute with his contacts. You get the picture.”
“Got it,” Brad said. “The Hartes are one of the most important families in town. Having a representative from the family there last night would have been a coup for Decatur.”
“As it happened,” Hannah continued, “I discovered that a former Weddings by Harte client was also scheduled to attend the reception. Perry was angling to get him to endow a research fund at the institute.”
“Tom Lydd,” Brad said.
Hannah nodded. “You are good. Something tells me you’ll go far at the institute.”
“And you had a word with Lydd, I take it?”
“All I did was mention that I knew the institute’s selection committee had your name under consideration for a joint appointment and that you would make a wonderful addition to the faculty. Tom Lydd took it from there.”
Brad exhaled deeply. “Decatur must have blown a gasket.”
Pamela slapped a palm across her own mouth and then exploded with laughter. “A classic Harte tactical maneuver. Your folks would be so proud of you.”
“I owe you,” Brad said to Hannah. He looked serious.
“No, you don’t.” She grinned, feeling somewhat cheered for the first time since the scene at Dreamscape that morning. “Perry Decatur owed me for something that happened eight years ago. It was payback time.”
Brad shook his head. “You Hartes sure do have long memories.”
Hannah wasn’t sure that he meant it as a compliment.
She drove back to the cottage later that evening after sharing dinner with the McCallister family. The meal, with all its noise and chaos, had done wonders to improve her mood, she realized.
Maybe she could finally do some clearheaded thinking tonight. She needed to put things in perspective. Not that it was easy to gain any sort of real perspective on Rafe Madison. But the good news was that she was no longer feeling as unsettled as she had for the better part of the day. She was a Harte. As Pamela had reminded her, she was supposed to be good at strategic planning and tactics. Hartes did not allow themselves to get tangled up in messy emotions when it came to business. That was a Madison characteristic.
She had to start concentrating on the business aspects of Dreamscape. She could not allow Rafe to muddy the waters again.
Something told her that would be easier said than done. Madisons were very good at muddying things, she reflected as she pulled into the driveway in front of the darkened house.
She switched off the engine, climbed out from behind the wheel, and started toward the front door with a vaguely wistful sensation. She didn’t have a loving husband and a couple of lively kids waiting to greet her, but at least she had Winston.
Faithful, loyal, lovable Winston.
She put her key in the lock and waited for the muted sounds of doggy welcome. But there was no muffled scratch of toenails on hardwood, no happy whine.
The first tingle of unease shot through her. Winston was an alert dog. His hearing was almost preternatural. Surely he had caught the sound of the car in the drive.
Quickly she unlocked the door, opened it, and stepped into the hall.
“Winston?”
There was no response.
“Winston? Where are you? Here, Winston. Look, I’m sorry about Kitty. I admit that I patted her on the head a couple of times, but that was all, I swear it.”
Winston did not come trotting around the corner.
She switched on a light and walked into the kitchen. Most of the water she had left in one of the twin stainless-steel bowls on the floor was untouched. The expensive chewing bone had been abandoned under the table.
Unease turned to concern that was only a little shy of panic. Something was wrong.
“Winston?”
She hurried back into the living room and started up the stairs. Perhaps he had gotten himself trapped in a bedroom or a bathroom when a door had accidentally closed. Frantically she tried to think of reasons why an inside door would suddenly swing shut. A draft? But if Winston was locked in an upstairs room, why wasn’t he barking furiously to let her know where he was?
By the time she reached the top of the stairs, she was running. A single glance down the hall showed her that all of the doors stood wide open.
She darted from room to room, checking under beds and inside closets. There was no sign of Winston.
It occurred to her that he must have somehow gotten out of the house on his own and wandered off. It was a very un-Winston-like thing to do, but for all his canine cleverness he was still a dog and dogs were born explorers.
She went slowly back downstairs and came to a halt once more in the hall, pondering the mystery of how he might have escaped the house. The front door had been locked when she returned. That left the kitchen door and the mudroom door.
A quick check in the kitchen revealed that that door, too, was still securely locked. With mounting trepidation she walked back out into the hall and turned right. Automatically she switched on lights as she went toward the rear of the house.