“He’s right,” Rafe said. “Jed might not find hard proof, but the entire Thornley camp will be on the defensive. Hell, the lingerie rumors alone will be enough to keep them fully occupied. Whoever’s behind this will be too busy proving Thornley’s innocence on both counts to bother with any more attacks on you or Winston.”
Hannah looked at each man in turn. The same ice-cold intent glittered in both pairs of sea-green Madison eyes. She shook her head. “And you two wonder why everyone says you’re so much alike.”
After dinner Rafe walked out onto the porch with Mitchell. Winston padded along at their heels. Together the three of them gazed at the big SUV lurking in the shadows of the drive, looking for all the world like some modern-day Tyrannosaurus rex waiting for prey. Probably hoping some slow-witted, herbivorous little compact would wander within range, Rafe thought. The silhouette of Bryce’s figure behind the wheel was just barely visible in the gathering shadows. The dinosaur’s brain.
“Well, thanks for dinner,” Mitchell said.
“Sure. Anytime.”
“Still can’t get over the fact that you can turn out first-rate grub like that.”
“Maybe you’ve just been eating too much of Bryce’s cooking.”
“Could be. But I’m used to it.”
Rafe leaned against a post. “I haven’t thanked you for the information you brought back from Portland.”
“No problem.” Mitchell tapped the end of his cane on the edge of the step. “Sort of interesting, if you want the truth. Haven’t ever done anything along those lines.”
“Neither have I. Lucky for us, you and Bev Bolton are such good friends.”
“Uh-huh.”
There was another short silence. Winston yawned.
“Sure hope to hell we know what we’re doing here,” Mitchell said after a while. “If we’re right, we’re talking about blowing apart the campaign of a hot-shit candidate for the United States Senate. Lawsuits could be the least of our worries when this is over.”
“Since when did a Madison ever let the small stuff get in the way?”
Mitchell nodded. “You’ve got a point there.”
“The important thing is that we put a stop to whatever is going on around here.” Rafe folded his arms. “Hannah’s safety comes first.”
“Can’t argue that one,” Mitchell said. “What’s a political campaign compared to protecting a lady? Speaking of Hannah—”
Rafe braced himself. “Were we?”
“We sure as hell were. I didn’t want to say anything in front of her, but we both know the two of you can’t stay shacked up here like this indefinitely.”
“Shacked up?” Rafe managed a politely blank expression. “I don’t believe I’m familiar with the term.”
“Bullshit! You know damn well what I’m talkin’ about. When are you going to do the right thing by that girl?”
“When are you going to do the right thing by Bev Bolton?”
Mitchell’s face tightened. Rafe was startled to see a flash of pain in his grandfather’s eyes. The expression vanished swiftly behind glittering outrage.
“I’d marry Bev Bolton tomorrow if I thought she’d have me,” Mitchell said ferociously. “But I’ve got a reputation to live down. She doesn’t think I know how to make what she likes to call a commitment.”
Rafe looked at him, saying nothing.
Mitchell blinked once or twice. The outrage faded to dawning chagrin. “Well, shoot and damn. You’re in the same leaky boat, aren’t you, son?”
“I don’t think Hannah bought that story you gave her about my bad nerves,” Rafe said. “She’s got the same problem with me that Bev Bolton has with you.”
“Your checkered past?”
“Yeah. But in my case it’s not only my own that I’ve got to live down. I’ve got yours and Dad’s in the way, too.”
“Well, shoot and damn.” Mitchell gazed unhappily at the tip of his cane, then at Rafe. “Don’t suppose you’ve got any good ideas on what to do about this problem Madisons seem to have with females?”
“No.”
“Well, shoot and damn.”
“Yeah,” Rafe said. “Shoot and damn.”
“No sense asking Gabe. He’s no better with women than we are.”
“Apparently not.”
Mitchell glanced at Winston. The Schnauzer cocked his head in polite inquiry.
“No point asking him for advice, either,” Rafe said. “Hannah had him neutered.”
The night coalesced swiftly around them, deepening the somber atmosphere.
“I think there’s some irony here somewhere,” Rafe said eventually. “But I can’t be sure, because I never finished college.”
“Told you you’d regret dropping out.”
“I know. Look at me now. Doomed to go through life without knowing about stuff like irony and postmodernism. It’s almost enough to make a man regret a mis-spent youth.” Rafe paused. “But I’ll probably get over it.”
Mitchell nodded. “Fix yourself a whiskey and soda and take a long walk on the beach. Always worked for me.” He roused himself and went down the steps. “Tell you one thing,” he said over his shoulder as he strode toward the waiting SUV.
“What’s that?”
“You may not have finished college, but you’re a Madison.”
“So?”
“So, no Madison ever let anything stand in his way once he made up his mind to go after what he wanted. Remember what I said. You can’t shack up with Hannah forever. It’s not right. You’ve got to come up with a fix for this mess. Hear me?”
“I hear you.”
Mitchell opened the passenger-side door of the SUV and climbed in. Rafe and Winston watched the monster vehicle lumber off down the drive.
When the taillights disappeared, Rafe looked down at the dog. “You know, Winston, one of the reasons you and I get along so well is that you never hand out unsolicited advice.”
Winston yawned again, rose, and ambled back inside the house.
Mitchell peered at the road through the windshield. “I think those two need a little kick in the right place to get them moving in the right direction.”
“My advice is to stay out of the matter, sir,” Bryce said. “The conduct of close interpersonal relationships is not your strong point.”