came in. Whoever he was, he was not a native of Clark’s Harbor. He seemed very upset—his face was flushed and his eyes flashed with anger. He glanced at Brad and Elaine, then turned his attention to the police chief, who was still on the phone. As he listened, Harney Whalen watched the young man pace the small room impatiently. In his mind Brad put it all together and decided this was the brother of the dead man, and that he had stumbled into the “something horrible” Glen Palmer had been talking about on the phone that morning.
“All right, all right,” Whalen said at last. “I’ll wait till you get here.” He slammed the receiver down and stared balefully at the young man.
“What is it now, Horton?” he said levelly.
Jeff Horton stopped pacing and stood squarely in front of Whalen’s desk, glaring at the police chief.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” he demanded.
“I think I’m the police chief here,” Whalen said easily, enjoying the young man’s discomfiture. “What of it?”
“That gives you the right to decide what’s to be done with my brother’s body?”
“You heard?”
“I heard. And I’d like to know why you didn’t tell me you were releasing it. I can get it home myself.”
“Fine,” Whalen replied, getting to his feet. “I just thought I’d save you the trouble.”
“Save me the trouble!” Jeff exclaimed. His face turned scarlet and his fists began working spasmodically. “I don’t need anybody to save me any trouble. I need someone to help me find out what happened to Max.” Then, as suddenly as his face had turned scarlet, it drained of color and became an ashen gray. Brad stood up and moved to the young man’s side.
“Sit down,” he said gently but firmly. When Jeff started to resist, Brad took his arm. “If you don’t sit down, you’re going to pass out,” he said. He pushed Jeff into the chair he had just vacated and made him put his head between his knees. “If you start feeling like you’re going to be sick, lie down on the floor. You’ll feel foolish but it’s better than throwing up. Now breathe deeply.”
Brad turned his attention to Whalen. “What’s going on?” he asked.
“It’s between him and me,” Whalen declared. “It doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
“I’m a doctor and this fellow’s not in the best shape. I’m just wondering why.”
“And I’m telling you it’s none of your concern,” Whalen snapped.
“Whose concern should it be?” Jeff said, sitting up again. He looked at Brad. “Who are you?”
“Brad Randall,” Brad said, extending his right hand. “I’m a doctor from Seattle. I take it it’s your brother who died?”
Jeff nodded. “This guy keeps claiming it was an accident but I don’t believe it. And now he’s made plans to ship Max home and he didn’t even tell me about it.”
“Max, I assume, is your brother. Mind telling me your name?”
“Jeff. Jeff Horton.”
“Fine, Jeff. Now, what happened?”
But before Jeff could tell him, Harney Whalen interrupted. “This your office all of a sudden, Dr. Randall?” he said unpleasantly. “ ’Cause you’re sure acting like it is.”
Brad bit his lip. “Sorry,” he said. “It isn’t any of my business, of course. But Jeff seems pretty upset, and dealing with people who are upset happens to be my specialty.” When Jeff looked at him quizzically, Brad winked. “I’m a psychiatrist.”
Elaine stood up suddenly, and the movement caught Brad’s attention, exactly as she had intended.
“Why don’t I take Jeff out for a cup of coffee while you settle our business with the chief?” she suggested. “All right?”
Brad knew immediately his wife was trying to defuse the situation. He smiled at her gratefully. “If you don’t mind,” he said, knowing she didn’t; knowing, in fact, that she had taken the situation in hand.
“Of course I don’t mind.” She turned to Whalen and smiled at him. “Is there anything I’ll need to know about the house right away?”
Whalen shook his head slowly, glancing from one of the Randalls to the other and back again. But before he could speak Elaine plunged on.
“Fine. Then we’ll see you in a few minutes,” she told Brad. She took Jeff Horton by the arm and pulled him to his feet. Jeff, looking baffled, offered no resistance as she led him from the office.
“Do you have the keys?” she heard Brad asking Whalen as she walked down the corridor. She silently congratulated herself. Maybe the wrong member of their family was the psychiatrist.
“It hasn’t been easy for you,