"Who is dive's lover?" she asked.

"Anyone I know?"

Frank raised his eyebrows.

"I told my informant it would not be bandied about," he said. Then he added, "Bill Meyerson.

Explains why Clive moved out here.

Meyerson has a ranch a couple of miles up the highway."

"Good heavens! Our golden boy in the state legislature?

Are you sure?"

"Who can be sure of anything? It's what I was told."

The doorbell rang then, and she went to admit the sheriff. He was in his full cowboy outfit. She almost looked past him for his sidekick, Tonto, or at least a white horse.

She took his sheepskin coat and his wide-brimmed hat, which she handled gently. Two hundred dollars, she decided, at the very least. They exchanged pleasantries as she put his things in the closet and then led him to the living room.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, shaking hands with Frank.

"Found myself overshooting your place and ended up down at Mrs. Kendricks's instead." His eyes twinkled just a bit as he added, "

"Course, I was curious about her setup, how easy it would be to get up from the river with out being seen. Had a little look around while I chanced to be in the neighborhood."

"What can I get for you, Sheriff? Bourbon, scotch, coffee?"

"No, no. Nothing." He glanced over the array of bottles that Frank had put out, and then said, "Well, maybe just a touch of that Jack Daniels. To take the chill off.

Pretty part of the country around here, but G.o.d, it's too wet. Too d.a.m.n wet."

Barbara understood the rules very well, but she was growing impatient with the good-old-boy act; she sat down in her chair and made herself wait until the dancing ended and the business began. It was not long, after all. As soon as the sheriff had his drink and was in his chair, he turned his full attention to her.

"Your man. Bailey Novell, and my man, Roy Whitehorse, seem to have struck up quite a friendship. Real pals, from the looks of it."

"What have they found?" she asked, surprised to hear the bluntness of her father in her own voice.

"Well, Roy took him to a bar or two, up around Redmond, his stamping grounds, places where the rangers and loggers like to hang out when they're off duty. They can put Belloc in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong kind of mud on his truck, pretty much like your man, Novell, suggested they might. It's not enough, though. What else is there?"

She told him what little there was, and he shook his head in disappointment.

"I know," she said.

"Not enough."

"Well, we can get on it, go up and down every back road out there, try to find someone who saw him that day, but it's been a long time. Lots of dust has got blown around since then."

"Sheriff," she asked slowly, looking at the fire, "is there any chance that that girl was not penetrated by a man at all, that he used an object of some sort altogether?

Was there even a trace of s.e.m.e.n?"

It was a while before he answered.

"Could be, I guess.

No s.e.m.e.n. The pathologist said the river could have washed it away."

"Maybe. Maybe there never was any to start with. I don't think he would have touched her; he was too afraid of contact. If he was afraid of making contact with her blood, or any fluids, that would explain dragging her that way, too. Would the laboratory have made an AIDS test?"

"Yes, they did; nothing there." He was watching her very closely, his eyes narrowed, his drink disregarded.

"But no mention has come out about the test, has it?"

"Nope. No reason to report the negative." He glanced at Frank, who was sitting motionless, watching Barbara.

"Why don't you just come out and say what you're thinking the sheriff asked then, and finally sampled his drink.

"Thinking out loud," Barbara said.

"Everyone made note of the fact that Lucas had not marked his hands in any way. But if someone hit that girl hard enough to break her jaw and break teeth out, chances are good that his hand was marked, the skin broken. And he's terrified of AIDS. Just a thought."

"You're grasping at straws," Sheriff LeMans said sadly.

"Even if you show os an injured hand, that's still not enough. He works in the forest; lots of injuries in the forests. I wouldn't want to go up with a case like the one I can make, not with you defending." He drained his gla.s.s, set it down, and shook his head at Frank, who made a motion toward it.

"Best be getting on," he said.

"That fog's not going to get any better."

They all had stood up and started to move toward the doorway when the bell sounded again.

"I'll get it," Frank said.

"We'll work at our end," Sheriff LeMans said, "but I don't feel hopeful, Ms. Holloway. Not at all." She nodded, listening to Frank at the front door. Nell and Clive? "We wanted to tell you first," Clive was saying. She felt a knot of fury gathering in her chest and held up her hand to the sheriff to silence him.

Clive was going on.

"... don't want to interrupt if you have company."

She stepped into the hall then and called, "Hey, come on in, you two." Then she turned to the sheriff and motioned him back to his chair.

"Please," she whispered.

He did not look pleased, but he sat down again and picked up his gla.s.s.

"Hi, Nell, Clive," she said when they entered the room.

Nell looked miserable and cold; she evaded Barbara's eyes.

Clive was smiling broadly.

"You remember Sheriff LeMans, don't you?" She waited until they all said the expected greetings, then asked, "By the way, where are the kids?" If they were tagging along, this would be just another little social hour.

"Tawna's letting Carol paint jewelry, and Travis and Celsy are playing a game or something," Nell said.

"Celsy's home for the holiday."

Barbara nodded.

"Why don't you take that chair close to the fire. You look frozen. That d.a.m.n fog's impossible."

Nell went to the chair and huddled in it, holding her hands out toward the fireplace.

"Actually," Barbara said then, "we were just talking about you two. Nell, this is a terribly impertinent question, but I have to ask. Have you had s.e.x with Clive?"

Nell gasped, and Clive made a deep-throated noise.

"No!" Nell said.

"Of all the d.a.m.n busybody--" Clive started, but Barbara cut him off.

"Oh, shut up. And sit down. You have to hear this, too.

You see, that girl in the woods, Janet Moseley, had AIDS, and whoever raped her was possibly infected."

"Nell, let's get the h.e.l.l out of here." Clive was on his feet, reaching for Nell's arm.

"Why don't you sit down?" Barbara said.

"I repeat, you should hear this, too. Even if the guy used a condom, or even if he didn't penetrate her, if he so much as scratched his hand on her jaw, it's possible that her blood was enough to infect him."

Clive jerked his hand back as if it were scalded. His left hand cradled his right hand for an instant.

"You're crazy," he said.

"What the h.e.l.l is this all about? What does it have to do with us?"

Sheriff LeMans had set his gla.s.s down softly; he was tense, poised. Frank was still standing near the door. Nell stared wide-eyed at Barbara, very pale, transfixed.

Deliberately Barbara said, "I think all s.e.xual partners should be told if there is any danger of infection, however remote. In Nell's case, I think she should be aware before she announces any wedding plans that her future husband is gay and quite likely infected with AIDS. And I think his other s.e.xual partners should also be told. Bill, for example."

Clive lunged at her; she jumped aside as the sheriff leaped up, grabbed dive's arm, and swung him away.

Clive turned to him.

"She's a crazy b.i.t.c.h! What's she saying?

This is crazy!" He was livid, and shaking.

"Let's just sit down and discuss it," Sheriff LeMans said almost soothingly.

Clive jerked free of his grasp and yelled at Barbara, "You can't do this to me! You're crazy!"

"Maybe. But who tells Bill? You or me?"

"There's nothing to tell! I don't know who you're talking about. I don't know what you're talking about."

"Or," Barbara said coolly, "we can leave him out of it altogether, never mention his name again, and you just tell us what happened. Someone very discreetly can advise him to get a medical test. Routine checkup, that's all anyone would know. Maybe he would appreciate that you kept his name out of it, maybe he'd wait for you, the way you offered to wait for Nell."

"This is blackmail," Clive said hoa.r.s.ely.

"No, it's plea bargaining before the fact. It happens all the time. It's how the system works."

Clive turned to the sheriff.

"You're a party to this kind of blackmail?"

"I'm an interested spectator," Sheriff LeMans said.

"Listening."

"He doesn't know the last name," Barbara said.

"And there's no reason to tell him, unless we have to string out an investigation."

"Let me think," Clive muttered; he put his hands over his face.

"G.o.d, this is crazy."

Suddenly his arm lashed out at the sheriff, caught him across the chest, and threw him back onto the chair. Clive spun around and ran; he hit Frank in pa.s.sing and knocked him down, and then he ran out into the hall, slammed the door behind him, on out the front door, and slammed it shut. Sheriff LeMans ran out after him, but before he even reached the door, there was the sound of a car engine, tires spinning on gravel, and the roar of acceleration.

Sheriff LeMans returned grim-faced. He scowled at Barbara.

"Where's the phone?"

She pointed; she was on one knee at Frank's side, helping him up.

"Are you all right?"

"Sure, sure. Nothing broken, I think. Good G.o.d, Bobby, why didn't you warn a fellow?"

"What kind of car is he driving?" Sheriff LeMans asked at the phone.

"We walked over," Nell said.

"Jesus Christ," the sheriff snarled.