But there was no answer at Touchstone Communications. At Caroline Kent’s condominium in Back Bay, Ashley got her machine and left a message for Caroline to please call the farm as soon as possible.

8

Jeremy checked into the Lord Jeffrey Inn on the quaint town common in the center of Amherst and immediately went down to the bar and ordered himself a bourbon, straight. There were points to consider about his meeting with Ashley Wakefield. First, her eyes were as bright a shade of blue as on the cover of You. Second, she was holding back on something. Third, she was a god-awful pain in the ass.

But he didn’t think she was lying about not having seen Mac. Somehow Jeremy felt he would have guessed that much.

Then Mac was sliding onto the chair across from Jeremy and smiling wanly as he motioned to the waitress. “A bourbon would go down well about now.”

“Mac—”

“Easy, Jeremy.”

For some reason, Jeremy had expected Mac to look haggard and disheveled, but he was as trim as ever, dressed neatly in tan putter pants and a pullover. His hair was combed and he was shaved. Only in his eyes could Jeremy detect any sign of fatigue or uneasiness.

“How did you find me?” Jeremy asked.

“I’ve been watching the Wakefield farm.” Mac’s bourbon arrived, and he took a big gulp, holding it in his mouth before swallowing. He placed his forearms on the table and leaned over his glass, then ran one finger along the rim. “The uncle’s not there, is he?”

“No, but I understood he’d be back.”

“I doubt that.” Mac smiled bitterly. “I shouldn’t be surprised. I knew this wasn’t going to be easy.”

Checking an impulse to throttle Mac for information, Jeremy took a large swallow of his own bourbon and welcomed the path of fire down to his stomach. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Mac sighed heavily. “No.”

“Mac.”

“Don’t push me, Jeremy.”

“Elaine—”

“This has nothing to do with her—or you.”

“She’s worried.”

“I suppose she has a right to be. Tell her—” He looked away. “Tell her whatever she needs to hear to give her peace of mind.”

“She needs to hear you’re all right, Mac—not having an affair, not crazy, but safe and normal and doing the kinds of things Mac Stevens does. Chasing after old farmers isn’t what you do, Mac.”

“It’s what I should have done a long time ago.” He lifted his glass, looked at it for a moment as if it possessed answers he didn’t and then drank. “Tell Elaine I’ll call her as soon as I can, all right? When this thing’s finished, we’ll go away. We’ll talk, and I’ll tell her everything—things I should have told her long before now. That’s the best I can do, Jeremy.”

“What about Ashley Wakefield?”

Mac shrugged, setting his glass back down. “This needn’t involve her.”

“I have a feeling she won’t see it that way.”

“It won’t matter. I just—” He shut his eyes briefly, as if in pain. “I just hope to hell I’m not too late.”