Part 23 (2/2)

Cab looked over his shoulder in surprise and saw someone who did live here. Someone who claimed to thrive on the isolation that he wanted to escape.

'Mrs Bradley,' he said. He checked his watch. 'Shouldn't you be back home by now?'

'I missed the last ferry,' she told him. 'I have a friend with a rental cottage near here. She lets me stay there.'

'How did you find me?'

'I saw you driving through town. Your Corvette is hard to miss. Everyone already knows who you are.'

'So it seems.'

'Welcome to life in a small town.'

'I heard about your accident on the island,' Cab told her.

'It wasn't an accident.'

'I understand. I'm glad to see you're OK.'

'I hurt like h.e.l.l. I'm staying in bed tomorrow.'

'Good for you. Are you hungry? Would you like half of a vegetarian sandwich?'

'Do I look like I eat girly food?' Hilary asked. 'You should come back when Stillwater's opens for the season and get yourself the world's best cheeseburger.'

'I'll take your word for it.'

Hilary Bradley sat down next to him on top of the bench. She stared at the horizon, where the blue sky deepened into night. She took off her gla.s.ses and brushed a wisp of her blond hair from her eyes, a simple gesture that Cab found oddly erotic. He was uncomfortably aware that he found this woman attractive. He knew what Mark Bradley saw in her. Strength. Determination. Depth.

Even so, her face was troubled. Something was bothering her.

'Are you all right?' he asked.

She gave him a look that said: Why do you care? Why do you care?

'I'm fine,' she replied. 'Why do you ask?' 'I a.s.sume I would be about the last person on earth you'd want to talk to,' he said.

'Sometimes when you live out here, you just find yourself wanting to talk to someone, no matter who it is.'

'You have a gift for flattery.'

She realized what she'd said. 'Sorry.'

'Don't worry about it.'

Hilary looked as if she was grasping for something innocuous to say. He suspected that was because she didn't want to say whatever was really in her head. 'What do you use in your hair?' she asked.

He was amused, it's a molding gel. My mother sends it to me from London.'

'I like it.'

'Thank you.'

'You're not exactly a typical cop, are you?'

'Not exactly,' Cab acknowledged.

'Speaking of your mother,' Hilary said, 'I didn't realize at first who she was. It took me a while to put together the name. I don't think I've ever seen any of her movies. I go for chick flicks.'

Cab c.o.c.ked an eyebrow. 'You?'

'No,' Hilary said, smiling. 'I already told you, I'm not the girly type.'

He was almost willing to believe she was flirting with him.

'It's an artificial life, isn't it?' she asked. 'Hollywood, I mean.'

'Very.'

'Is that why you're not in it?'

'Yes.'

'You don't like to talk about yourself, do you?'

'No.'

She nodded. 'Me neither. I apologize for that crack I made on the island. About a woman messing with you. It's none of my business.'

He wondered if she expected him to open up and admit the truth. You were right You were right, he would say. Let me tell you about Vivian Frost. Let me tell you about Vivian Frost. Instead, he didn't say anything at all. He felt it again, the old instinct to shut himself off from women. He wondered, as he had with Lala, if it was worth trying to get past it. If circ.u.mstances were different, Hilary Bradley was the kind of woman he would have enjoyed getting to know. But circ.u.mstances weren't different. Not for her. Not for him. Instead, he didn't say anything at all. He felt it again, the old instinct to shut himself off from women. He wondered, as he had with Lala, if it was worth trying to get past it. If circ.u.mstances were different, Hilary Bradley was the kind of woman he would have enjoyed getting to know. But circ.u.mstances weren't different. Not for her. Not for him.

'Do you mind if I make a cop-like observation?' he asked her.

'Go ahead.'

'You don't strike me as a woman who misses a ferry.'

She looked uncomfortable. 'It happens all the time.'

'If you say so.'

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