Silent Fall by Barbara Freethy Page B

moment I’m going to stick with the belief that Erica is not dead, that this is just part of the frame. I have to find her and make her talk."
    "If someone is framing you for Erica’s death," Mark said slowly, "they have extremely good motivation to actually kill her."
    Mark had a point. But Erica knew how to look out for herself. At least, Dylan hoped she did.
    "I need to take care of a few things here," Mark added, "but I can be in Tahoe by tonight. Don’t do or say anything to anyone, Dylan. Just stay put. Keep your mouth shut. I’ll be in touch."
    It was good advice, but he wasn’t sure he could take it. He didn’t want to play defense. He had to find a way to turn this game upside down. Slipping his phone back into his pocket, he decided to shut down his computer. It didn’t appear to him that anyone had accessed his files, but he couldn’t be positive. It didn’t make sense that someone would have gone to the trouble of taking out his computer without doing something to it or looking for something, but he couldn’t find any obvious evidence.
    He had just returned the computer to its case when Catherine burst into the room. Her breath was coming hard and fast, as if she’d run a few miles. Her hair was tangled, and her cheeks were bright red.
    "What’s going on?" he asked in alarm.
    "They found the scarf," she said. "I took the path you were on last night, and I saw the coast guard and the police searching an area very close to shore."
    His chest tightened. "But no body, right?"
    "Not that I could see, but I didn’t have a great view. This is bad, Dylan. How did they even know to look in the water for her clothing?"
    "Someone saw something and called the cops. The plan is just continuing to tick away, right on schedule." He paused. "My lawyer thinks they’re going to arrest me."
    "I do, too." Her gaze clung to his, worry and fear in her eyes.
    He made a sudden decision. "I’m not waiting around to find out."
    "You shouldn’t," Catherine agreed. "You won’t be able to fight back if you’re in jail."
    "Exactly what I was thinking," he muttered, not really surprised they were on the same wavelength. He was starting to get used to the idea that Catherine could almost anticipate what he was going to say before he said it. "Come with me."
    "What? Where?" she asked in surprise, obviously not anticipating that request.
    "Back to San Francisco, for starters."
    She hesitated, doubt written across her face. "I don’t know, Dylan."
    "You said you’d help me," he reminded her.
    "Help you find the truth, not evade the police."
    She was right. This wasn’t her problem; it was his. And he’d always traveled better on his own. But for some reason the idea of cutting her loose disturbed him. "Well, I need to get out of here. You do what you think is best." He couldn’t quite believe he was contemplating running out on the cops, but every instinct screamed that he needed to buy himself some time. Everything was moving too fast. The scarf in the lake seemed like another step in a pre-orchestrated plan to set him up for murder. His tie was probably there, too. If he ran, he would definitely look guilty and he could land himself in even worse trouble. It was a risk, but one he had to take. He grabbed the suit he’d worn the night before and stuffed it into his suitcase.
    "You should call Jake," Catherine said. "He’s your brother. He would want to help."
    "I’m not ruining his honeymoon. Nor do I want him involved. He finally has his life together with Sarah and the baby. He has way too much to lose. I don’t."
    "Neither do I," she said slowly.
    He met her gaze. "Forget it. I shouldn’t have asked you to come."
    "But you did. And I think I will."
    "Why?"
    "Do I have to have a reason? You asked me and I accept."
    "I’ve reconsidered. This isn’t your problem, and it could be dangerous."
    "I’m coming, Dylan."
    "Why would