"Now, that's a bit coincidental." Carl scratched his chin, a sign that he was thinking.
"Why didn't she park in the garage?"
"Corliss was parked in her slot. We've had some trouble with Corliss lately, and I told her she had to move out. I started to make her move her car, but Ro told me to leave it alone and not cause a fuss that would upset Lucinda."
"Maybe you should've made that fuss anyway. You reckon Corliss would do something like this?"
"I'd be surprised if she knew a brake line from a fishing line."
"She got any friends who would do it for her?"
"I've been away for ten years," Webb replied.
"I don't know who she hangs out with. But if she had anyone tamper with a brake line, it would be mine, not Roanna's."
"But yours was in the garage." "Corliss has a control for the doors. We all do. If she was behind it, it wouldn't matter if the car was inside the garage or not."
Carl scratched his chin again.
"None of this ties together, does it? It's like we've got pieces from ten different puzzles, and nothing goes together. It just don't make a lick of sense."
"Oh, it all fits," Booley said grimly.
"We just don't know how."
The house was quiet that night when Webb finally entered Roanna's room. As usual, she was curled up in her chair with a book in her lap, but she looked around with a warm welcome in her eyes.
"What took you so long?"
"I had some last-minute paperwork I needed to do. With all the excitement today, I'd forgotten about it." He knelt in front of her, searching her eyes with his.
"Are you honestly okay? You aren't hiding anything from me?"
I'm fine. Not a single bruise. Do you want me to pull off my clothes and show you?"
His eyes turned smoky, and his gaze dropped to her breasts.
"Yes."
She felt herself begin to warm and soften inside, and her nipples beaded the way they always did when he looked at her. He laughed softly, but got to his feet and caught her hands, pulling her up.
"Come on."
She thought they were going to the bed, but instead he directed her to the door. She gave him a confused look.
"Where are we going?"
"To another bedroom."
"Why?" she asked, bewildered.
"What's wrong with this one?"
"Because I want to try another bed."
"Yours?"
"No," he said briefly.
Roanna resisted the pressure on her back as he urged her toward the door. She turned and gave him a long, steady regard.
"Something's wrong." She said it as a statement, not a question. She knew Webb too well; she'd seen him angry and she'd seen him amused. She knew when he was tired, when he was worried, when he was aggravated as all hell. She thought she'd seen him in all his moods, but this one was new. His eyes were hard and cool, with an alertness that made her think of a hungry cat stalking prey.
"Let's just say I'd feel better if you were in a different room tonight."
"If I go, will you tell me why?"
That blade like gaze sharpened even more.
"Oh, you'll go," he said softly.
She drew herself up and faced him, not backing down an inch.
"You can reason with me, Webb Tallant, but you can't order me around. I'm not a fool or a child. Tell me what's going on." Just because she loved him to distraction didn't mean she couldn't think for herself.
He looked briefly frustrated, because once she wouldn't have balked at doing anything he told her. But she'd been a child then, and now she was a woman; he needed to be reminded of that every so often. He made a rapid decision.
"All right, but come on. And be as quiet as you can; I don't want to wake anyone. When we get to the other room, don't turn on any lights either."
"The bed won't have any sheets on it," she warned.
"Then bring something to put around you in case you get cold."
She picked up her afghan and went quietly with him down the hall to one of the unoccupied bedrooms, the last one on the left side. The curtains were open, letting in enough light from the quarter moon that they could see how to maneuver. Webb went over to the windows and looked out, while Roanna sat down on the bed.
"Tell me," she said.
He didn't turn away from the windows. -I suspect we might have a visitor tonight."
She thought about it for a few seconds, and her stomach knotted at the obvious answer.
"You think the burglar will come back?"
He gave her a brief glance.
"You're quick, you know that? I don't think he was a burglar. But, yes, I think he'll come. He could see the side lawn from this room, she realized, while from either of their rooms he could have seen only the back.
"If he isn't a burglar, why would he come back?" Webb was silent a moment, then said, "Jessie's killer was never caught."
She was suddenly chilled, and pulled the afghan around her shoulders. "You think ... you think whoever killed Jessie was in the house again that night, and hit me?"
"I think it's possible. Your accident today wasn't an accident, Ro. Your brake line had been cut. And someone took a couple of shots at me the other day when I was late getting here for the party. I didn't have car trouble; my windshield was shot out."
Roanna sucked in a deep, shocked breath, her mind reeling. She wanted to jump up and yell at him for not having said something before, she wanted to throw something, she wanted to get her hands on whoever had tried to shoot him. She couldn't do any of that, however. If she wanted him to finish telling her what was going on, she had to sit there and not make a lot of noise. She pulled herself together and tried to reason it out.