“If we’re refraining because we’re worried I’m going to pop a blood vessel while in the throes of passion, I’d like to point out there are solutions that you might enjoy.”

“That isn’t fair to you.”

“You’re massaging my hand. That’s pretty wonderful.”

“Not the same.” Again he took her tired hand and went to work.

Bitterly she said, “Kellen’s Brain. It’s like a bad sci-fi fantasy.”

He laughed. “It’s improving all the time.” When he had made her hand relax and Kellen relax with it, he said, “I’ve been thinking—the Di Luca family owns Isla Paraíso off the coast of Northern California. The family bought the island seventy years ago with the idea of placing a resort on the island, but now that doesn’t seem likely. Someone needs to go there, look things over, make decisions about its fate.”

Kellen nodded. “You want to go there? See what you think?”

“Actually, I thought we should all go there.”

He was still working her hand, but with a little too much forcefulness and concentration.

“Ouch,” she said softly.

He pulled away, horrified. “Did I hurt you?”

“Not at all. Except that you’re treating me like a child.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re not telling me what’s really going on. Why do you want to go to this island?”

“I told you—”

“I don’t doubt that what you told me is the truth. But it’s not all the truth. Max, what’s wrong?”

Max sighed, an understatement of a sigh, as if he dreaded what he was about to say. “You’re not going to like it.”

“I gathered that.”

“Mitch Nyugen.”

“What about him? He’s dead.” She remembered she couldn’t always trust Kellen’s Brain. “Isn’t he?”

“Yes. He was buried in the Cape Charade Cemetery.”

“Was buried?” Unease stirred in her belly.

“This week, his widow arrived from Wyoming.”

“He wasn’t married.” That brain thing. “Was he?”

“No.” Max was as sure as Kellen was not. “Yet the woman who claimed to be his widow had all the necessary paperwork to have his body exhumed.”

“Oh, no.”

“She had the coffin placed in the chapel. Last night, the undertaker, Arthur Earthman, found her there, with the coffin open. She murdered him, and almost killed his wife, Cynthia. The widow escaped ahead of the sheriff, and she left her calling card.”

Kellen knew. She knew what Max was going to say. “She cut off Mitch’s hands.”

“And took them.” Max looked up at her, his brown eyes wretched with fear. “Mara Philippi is back. And she’s here.”

4

Kellen felt the same terror that shone in Max’s eyes.