Page 30 of Deadline

“How long have you been here?”

“Since court was adjourned for the holiday weekend.”

“Only since Wednesday?”

“I arrived after dark.”

“Hmm.”

“What?”

“Nothing. I thought you’d been here longer.”

“Why?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she said, gesturing vaguely. “However long it’s been, you went to a lot of trouble and expense for nothing. I don’t grant interviews. Ever.”

“My trouble wasn’t for nothing.” He motioned toward her wrist. “You got your watch back.”

She glanced down at it. “Do I have you to thank?”

“I was watching you through the binoculars yesterday while you were building the sand castle. After you and the kids went indoors, I saw something glittering in the sand. I went down later to check it out and found your watch.”

“Why didn’t you just knock on my door and return it like any normal person would do? Any person who wasn’t a sneaking, spying magazine writer.”

“Because I wasn’t ready for you to know that I was here.”

“When did you intend to make your presence known?”

“I’m not sure.” He squinted at her thoughtfully. “But I’m glad you know.”

“I’m sure you are. You can turn the lights on tonight instead of stumbling around in the dark.” He acknowledged the barb, but didn’t comment. “Did you see me searching the beach last night?” Before he could answer, she said, “Of course you did.” Then another thought occurred to her. “The lightbulb?”

“I noticed that it was out. The back of your house was dark. I thought—”

“Thank you for your concern.”

“You’re welcome.”

“And for my watch,” she said, although it galled her to thank him for anything. “It means a lot to me.”

“Why?”

She wasn’t about to answer a question that personal.

Seeming to read her mind, he said, “Okay, if that one’s too tough, how about this one? How did you recognize me?” Holding her gaze, he took a step toward her. “You did, didn’t you?”

She took a corresponding step back. “How would I have recognized you?”

“I don’t know, but you did. If you hadn’t, I’d be writhing on the floor, temporarily blinded and choking. At the very least, you would have called the police and reported me as a stalker.”

“You are a stalker.”

“I know for certain that I’d never seen you until Wednesday afternoon when you took the witness stand. I was seated in the corner of the courtroom, back row. You never so much as glanced in that direction.”

“I didn’t see you there.”

“But…?”