The Masked Man

Deputy Rex Duncan pulled out a chair for her at one of the small round serving tables at the front of her bakery and helped her into it. He then drew up seats across from her for him and Samuelson, who pulled a small tape recorder from his pocket, set it on the table, and clicked it on.

“There must be some mistake,” she said, looking from one to the other of them.

“There is no mistake,” Samuelson said. “That’s why we’re confused. Why would you say you were with Trevor Forester tonight at the party? Unless for some reason you think you need an alibi.”

She stared at him, stunned. “An alibi? I was with Trevor in the lake cottage during the time I told you.” She looked from Samuelson to Duncan.

Duncan shook his head.

She felt the blood leave her head. If she hadn’t been in the cottage with Trevor… Oh, my God.

“Why don’t you start at the beginning?” Duncan suggested as he handed her a napkin from the dispenser on the table. “You arrived at the party at what time?”

She took the napkin and wiped her eyes, panic making her hands shake. “About seven-thirty.”

“Alone?” Duncan asked.

She nodded. “I thought Trevor would meet me at the party since he was running so late.”

“Trevor Forester was your fiancé?” Deputy Samuelson asked.

She nodded, then glanced down at her ringless finger, the white mark on her lightly tanned skin where the diamond engagement ring had been. The deputies followed her gaze. She quickly covered her hand.

“I think you’d better tell us what happened tonight,” Samuelson said. “It’s obvious you’ve been crying. How did you get that bump on your head?”

She looked up at him, then at Deputy Duncan, and fought to swallow back the dam of tears that threatened to break loose. Trevor dead. Murdered. And the man in the cottage who’d been dressed like Rhett Butler…?

“The truth, Ms. Lawson. You weren’t with Trevor Forester tonight at the party. So where were you?” Samuelson asked impatiently.

“I thought I was with Trevor,” she cried, and saw them exchange another look. “I know this will sound crazy…”

“Believe me, we’ve heard it all,” Duncan said, not unkindly. “Just tell us what happened.”

She took a breath. “Trevor was supposed to pick me up for the party at six-thirty,” she began. “We were going as Rhett Butler and Scarlett O’Hara.” Jill told them how she’d gone alone to the Foresters at seven-thirty, waited for him in a room off the far wing until she’d seen the man she believed to be Trevor dressed as Rhett Butler duck into the lake cottage at eight-fifteen. She’d just looked at her watch—that was why she remembered the time. “It was just before the electricity went out.”

Duncan nodded. “A transformer blew on that side of the lake about then. The man you saw, he had on a mask?”

She nodded and realized she’d only gotten a glimpse as he’d gone into the cottage. Just an impression of Rhett Butler.

“So you went down to the cottage in a downpour to see him?” Samuelson asked. “Why not wait until the storm let up? Or he came up to the party?”

“I wanted to speak with Trevor alone first.”

Samuelson raised an eyebrow. “About what? I see you aren’t wearing your engagement ring.”

“The truth is, I had planned to break off our engagement,” she admitted, wondering if they’d already found her engagement ring in the cottage. She assumed they’d already talked with Heddy and Alistair. Had Heddy told the deputies how upset Jill had been? That she’d planned to break the engagement?

“Why break up?” Samuelson asked, eyeing her closely.

She shook her head, not knowing where to begin. “I had hardly seen Trevor lately, and I just felt that we shouldn’t be getting married.”

“You said had planned to break off your engagement. Did something change your mind?” Duncan asked.

“Actually, Trevor did—at first. Or at least the man I thought was Trevor.” She could see the deputies’ skepticism. She hurriedly told them how the electricity had gone out, how in the darkness the man she thought was Trevor had grabbed her, kissed her, seduced her—all without a word spoken between them.

She dropped her gaze to her hands, clasped in her lap, for a moment, the shame and humiliation almost getting the better of her as she thought of what she’d done with a stranger. She had opened herself up to him. At the time she’d thought it was the darkness that had let her put all her inhibitions aside and make love as she’d never made love before—completely.

When she looked up, she saw they didn’t believe a word she’d said. “It’s true! I can prove it. Someone saw us together. A woman.” She groaned silently, mortified to have to tell them.

“What woman?” Duncan asked.

Jill looked at him and realized she didn’t have a clue who the woman was. Reluctantly she explained how it seemed Trevor had planned to meet, not her, but the other Scarlett in the cottage. “The woman saw us, became angry and left.”

“I thought it was dark inside the cottage?” Samuelson said.

“It was, but there was a flash of lightning as she opened the door,” Jill said.

“You didn’t see the man in this flash of lightning?” he asked incredulously.

She shook her head, remembering how he’d spooned her against him, the gentle way he’d nuzzled the nape of her neck, his breath on her bare, hot skin… “I was facing the door and he was…behind me.”

“What did you do after this woman interrupted the two of you?” Duncan asked.

“I realized Trevor—” she heard her voice break “—I mean, the man I thought was Trevor…had just made love to the wrong woman. I hurriedly dressed, threw the engagement ring at him and left.”

“You never saw his face?” Duncan asked.

She shook her head.

“You must have been furious,” Samuelson said.

“I was hurt.” She dropped her gaze, remembering the depth of that hurt because of what they had just shared.

“Did you tell anyone about this?” Duncan asked.

“No. I left by the side yard. I was upset. I certainly didn’t want to talk about it.” She saw the way they were both looking at her and added, “I think the woman’s name might be Rachel, but you’ll have to catch her tonight before she gets on a plane for Brazil.”

Samuelson raised a brow. “Why would you think that?”

Jill told them about almost being run off the road by her own red Saturn and how she’d followed it, thinking at first that Trevor was driving the car, since he was the one who’d borrowed it the last time she saw him.

“The front door was open. Someone was in the bedroom, rummaging around, using a flashlight,” she continued. She told them how the person had come flying out, hit her and left in her car. “I caught a whiff of the same perfume I had smelled when the woman opened the door to the cottage.”

“So you think it was the same woman,” Duncan said.

“Was she still wearing her costume?” Samuelson asked.

Now that Jill thought about it… “No. She must have had a change of clothing with her.” Maybe her traveling wedding suit since, if she was Rachel, she and Trevor were headed for a justice of the peace and a plane, it seemed. “If you’ve been to his condo, you know that Trevor was running away tonight with a woman named Rachel.” Their poker faces told her nothing.