and Channel Five is going to make a beeline for the place. Be there first.”
Her eyes still closed, Harper mumbled, “On my way.”
This must not have been convincing, because Baxter added sharply, “Make them your friends before ten o’clock this morning, McClain. That’s an order.”
Grumbling, Harper dragged herself out of bed. It had been nearly three in the morning when she got home, and it had taken a couple of hours to get to sleep.
A shower and a quick cup of coffee woke her up, though. And soon, she was in the car.
Despite Baxter’s urgency, she made two stops on the way to the musician’s mansion. The first was at the Tybee PD headquarters. “I’ve got nothing new,” the harried receptionist told her breathlessly as the phone on her desk rang unanswered. “The boats went out again just after seven. I must have said that twenty times already today.” She gave a nervous giggle. “Reporters are calling from all over. I just had a call from New York!”
Baxter was right. The media had found out about Xavier Rayne.
When she pulled up on Admiral’s Row a short while later, she was relieved to see no media circus had assembled yet outside the row of grand, columned houses. Everything was cool and quiet. Yesterday’s rain had passed, but the skies remained gray. The only sound came from the seabirds that wheeled overhead, their mournful cries rising above the breeze as she got out of the car and grabbed a tray holding four cardboard cups and a bag of warm doughnuts from the passenger seat.
It was the oldest trick in the world. But the old ones are the best.
When she climbed the front steps, she observed no signs of life. The huge windows were sealed tight, all the curtains closed. If she didn’t know better she’d think the house was empty—locked up for the season.
She tucked the bag under her arm and knocked briskly on the door.
It was Hunter who answered, cracking the door cautiously to peer out. As soon as he saw her, he blanched.
“Oh shit.” A sharp edge of fear entered his voice. “Is there news?”
“No—I’m sorry,” she said, hurriedly. “The police haven’t found him—I just talked to them. There’s nothing new.”
She noted and filed away the information that he’d assumed the news would be bad.
Behind the smudged lenses of his trendy glasses, exhausted, red-rimmed eyes skated from her face to the cups in her hand and back again, uncomprehendingly. He was wearing the same T-shirt and jeans he’d had on the day before, both considerably more rumpled now. His jaw was shadowed with stubble. His caramel-brown hair, tangled.
She held the tray of drinks out to him. “Look, I know it’s not much but I brought coffee. I thought you guys might need it.”
She was prepared for him to reject the offering. If he sent her away, she’d come back with sandwiches. Food figured heavily in her plan to ingratiate herself with them.
To her relief, though, he took the tray and stepped aside. “You might as well come in,” he said. “The others are just waking up.”
Holding the coffees, he headed down the hall, gesturing for her to follow him.
The house had a hushed, sleeping feel to it. Harper found herself walking softly across the polished oak floors. She couldn’t have said why but it felt good to be back in this elegantly bohemian mansion. The half-melted candles on the long dining room table, the art on the walls, the exotic scent of incense and cigarette smoke hanging tantalizingly in the air—it was like something out of a dream.
“Have you slept?” she asked, keeping her voice low.
“I wouldn’t call it sleep,” he said, bleakly. “Every sound I heard … I thought it might be him, coming home.”
The living room looked less perfect today. The cushions on the sofas were out of place and compressed from use. One huge sash window that faced the side of the house had been opened, letting in a cold sea breeze that made the white curtains sway.
Hunter set the cardboard tray down on the coffee table and dropped into a chair. Picking up a battered pack of cigarettes, he lit one with a chunky Zippo lighter.
Harper put the bag of doughnuts down and sat on the sofa across from him.
“I stopped by the police station this morning and all they’ll say is nobody’s heard from Xavier and he hasn’t been spotted,” she told him. “There’s a statewide alert. But there have been no sightings.”