“I’m sure everything will work out.” Virgil smiled at Rafe. “Heard you did all right for yourself.”
“Didn’t go to jail,” Rafe said.
“Had a hunch you would turn out okay.”
“I understand Rafe spent a lot of time here in the old days,” Hannah offered.
“Yes, indeed,” Virgil said with paternalistic pride. “I sold him his first condom. Taught him how to use it properly, too, before he left the store.”
“I see.”
Rafe winced. “Now, Hannah, it wasn’t like I came in here every week. Besides, none of the guys wanted to risk buying condoms at the local drugstore. The word would have been all over town by nightfall. Here at Virgil’s there was a lot more privacy.”
Hannah raised her eyes to the ceiling. “I’d rather not hear too many details about your past, thank you very much.”
Virgil chuckled. “Looks like your aunt Isabel was right all along. The two of you were obviously meant for each other.”
Hannah stared at him. “You knew Aunt Isabel?”
“Yes, indeed. We had some mutual interests.”
“I find that difficult to believe.”
Virgil arched a brow. “Did you know that she collected eighteenth-century erotica?”
“Uh, no.” Hannah cleared her throat. “She never mentioned it.”
“Yes, indeed. I helped her build her collection. I have some excellent contacts in the rare book business, you see. I’m sure you’ll run into Isabel’s old books and prints when you two start going through her things at Dreamscape. Whatever you do, don’t toss or sell any of those books and things until you check with me. Some of those volumes are worth several thousand dollars.”
“Good grief,” Hannah said weakly. “I’m suddenly getting a whole new picture of my aunt.”
Rafe tried not to laugh. It wasn’t easy. The bewildered, bemused expression on Hannah’s face was priceless.
Virgil crouched and held his hand out to Winston. “Lovely dog.”
Hannah frowned as Winston trotted forward to sniff politely. When the dog appeared satisfied, she hesitated and then said, “Thank you.”
She still sounded stiff, but Rafe could tell she was softening. Virgil put his hand in the small of his back and straightened with great care.
“Arthritis,” he explained. “Or the old war wound. I can never tell the difference.”
“Which war?” Hannah asked warily.
“Does it matter? They’re all the same, aren’t they? At least, they all look the same when you’re standing in the middle of one.” He looked at Rafe. “What can I do for you? Something tells me that the two of you are not here to purchase the latest issue ofFetishmagazine or to rentAlice Does Wonderland.”
Rafe leaned back against a counter stocked with rainbow-colored plastic dildos arranged in order of size. He shoved his hands into his front pockets and plunged straight into the tale.
“This is about what happened the night Kaitlin Sadler died,” he said. “Hannah and I have some reason to think that her death might not have been an accident.”
Virgil nodded somberly. “Yes, of course.”
Hannah shot him a quick, frowning glance. “You don’t look surprised, Mr. Nash.”
“Why should I be surprised? I’ve heard the rumors.”
“Exactly what rumors have you heard?” Rafe asked.
Virgil raised his thin shoulders in a small shrug.
