“Another reason why you sat outside my shop for two days.” She tipped her head. “Tell me, what would have happened if I’d looked exactly like that picture you’d seen?”

  “I’d have come in the first day.”

  Lauren had wondered if he would ever have come in. “I don’t understand. My looks made you cautious?”

  “That’s right.”

  “But … I look better than I did in the picture, don’t I?”

  “You look gorgeous.”

  “Then?” Mired in confusion, she made no protest when he turned her into him and crossed his wrists on the small of her back.

  “Gorgeous women intimidate me. I’ve been burned, remember?”

  His smile didn’t ease her this time. Her eyes widened. “Do you think I’m after your body?”

  He winced and shot an embarrassed glance to either side. “Shh.”

  She grasped his arms to push him away. When he held her steady, she whispered, but vehemently, “Is that what you think? Well, let me tell you, I didn’t ask you to walk into my shop. I didn’t ask you to take me on a cruise. I don’t want any part of your body! And even if I did, that wouldn’t be all I’d want. Before I ever got around to your body, I’d make sure that I wanted the rest.” She snorted in disgust and turned her face away. “Of all the self-centered, arrogant—”

  “That wasn’t what I meant, Lauren. You’re jumping to conclusions. Has it ever occurred to you that you can intimidate a man?”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you. I’d expected to find a quiet—” he hesitated, then cleared his throat “—rather thin and plain-looking young woman living an equally quiet life in the country. At least, that was what Brad had implied. If he could only see you now! You own your own shop—in the city, no less. You’re beautiful. You dress smartly. You’re bright as all get-out. And you’re sure as hell not falling at my feet.” He took a begrudging breath. “Yes, I’m intimidated.”

  Lauren had felt suspended during his short speech. Now she realized how absurd her own attack must have sounded. “Funny,” she managed to say in a small voice, “you don’t look intimidated.”

  He squeezed his eyes together. Even before they relaxed and opened, a smile had begun to form on his lips. “I guess I’m not now, at least not as much as I was before. For someone who is beautiful and chic and super-intelligent, you’re really pretty normal.”

  She smiled self-consciously, averting her gaze. “I think we’re missing the sunset.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  They returned to their own side of the boat, then switched when the vessel made a slow turn and headed back to the docks. Neither of them said very much. Lauren, for one, was lost in her own thoughts.

  In spite of Matt’s explanation, she still felt stunned that her looks had put him off. Initially her pride had been hurt. The thought that she’d drastically improved her appearance only to find that it kept men away was unsettling; hence she’d lashed out.

  Or had she simply been searching for a wedge to put between Matt and her?

  He was too attractive, too easy to be with, too firmly aligned with Brad and a way of life that she’d been indoctrinated to frown on. No, she wasn’t exactly frowning now, but neither could she turn her back on the disappointment of Brad’s long-ago desertion. And then came the guilt. She’d acceded to her parents’ view of Brad as a failure, yet she’d accepted his money—lots of it. Did an architect masquerading as a carpenter earn that much money? Had he banked every spare cent for some eleven years?

  She realized that there were many more questions she wanted to ask Matt about Brad. In hindsight, she wondered if he’d been evasive when talking about her brother’s work. His answers had been short, his expression solemn. He’d opened up more about Brad’s personal life, yet she couldn’t help but wonder if there were some things he hadn’t said.

  The boat pulled alongside the dock, its lines were secured, and the gangplank was lowered.

  “You must be starving,” Matt said. “Want to catch a bite at my hotel?” The Marriott was only a short distance from where they stood, but Lauren quickly shook her head.

  “I’d better be getting home. It’s been a long day.”

  “Are you sure?”

  This time she steeled herself against the cocoa softness of his gaze. She needed time to acclimate herself to his appearance in her life. He was a figure from Brad’s past, yet the immediacy of him unbalanced her. What she craved was the solid footing of her own home.

  “I’m sure,” she said with a gentle smile. “But … thank you, Matt. This has been lovely.”

  “At least let me walk you to your car. It’s pretty dark.”

  “And the path to my car is well lighted all the way. Really, I’ll be fine.”

  Matt straightened his shoulders and nodded. “Well, take care, then.”

  She started off, half turning as she walked. “Good luck with your work. I hope it goes well.”

  He nodded again and waved, then turned and headed for his hotel. Lauren didn’t look back until she’d crossed Atlantic Avenue, and by then he was gone.

  The late-afternoon sun glanced brilliantly over the Hollywood Hills, but the shades in the study were drawn as its proprietor entered, strode across the tiled floor to the desk and picked up the telephone.

  “Yes?”

  “We’re on our way.”

  “It’s about time. I’d assumed I would have heard from you sooner.”

  “She’s a clever girl. Covered her tracks like a pro—almost. I still don’t know who helped her out of L.A., but you were right about the Bahamas. She went back to the same clinic she visited when the two of you were vacationing on the islands last fall. That was her only slipup.”

  “Then you’ve found her?”

  “She had plastic surgery, just like you thought she would. Not much. Subtle changes. There was a phony ‘before’ shot stuck into the doctor’s files and a bunch of misleading medical reports, but the ‘after’ shot had just enough similarity to the real thing to give her away. Her hair’s different now, darker and shorter. And she’s taken a different name.”

  “We knew she would. Where is she?”

  “Boston. She just opened a little print-and-frame shop.”

  “With the money from the gifts I gave her. A print-and-frame shop. That’s priceless.”

  “You’d be amazed if you saw her. She’s the image of innocence. Dresses just so—stylish but understated, nothing flashy like before. Drives a Saab she must have picked up secondhand. Has this woman working with her who looks nearly as snowy-pure as she does, and a young guy who’s probably eating out of—”

  “What about the jewels? Have you located the fence?”

  “No. No sign of the jewels at all. She may have started with the furs. They’d be easy to sell and nearly impossible to trace.”

  “Have you made contact with her?”

  “Got a good man on it. She’s already had a couple of little ‘accidents’—nothing to hurt her actually, just set her to wondering.”

  “Is she?”

  “Yeah. She’s looking nervously around her front yard each time she leaves the house.”

  “The house?”

  “An old farmhouse she picked up outside the city.”

  “With my money!”

  “It’ll all come back to you. Between the shop and the house, she’s made investments that’ll come back with interest.”

  “I want you to find the jewels.”

  “We’re looking. She doesn’t have them at home. I went through the place myself today.”

  “Ransacked it?”

  “Nothing that obvious. Just moved little things here and there. She’ll suspect someone’s been snooping, but she won’t be sure enough to call the cops.”

  “She wouldn’t dare call the cops. She knows how long my arm is, and she wouldn’t do anything to risk blowing her cover. So where do we go from here?”

  “I’ve got a few more mishaps up my sleeve. You want her to squirm. I want her to squirm. She’s gonna squirm.”

  “You’re having fun, aren’t you?”

  “You could say that. I feel like I let you down before, and it was her fault. This is my revenge.”

  “It’s my revenge, and don’t you forget it.”

  “No way, boss. No way.”

  Chapter Four

  Beth was lying in wait for Lauren when she arrived at work the next morning. “Well? How did it go? What happened? Your parents would die if they knew you were dating him, but I think it’s great! A sunset cruise … I’ve never heard of anything so romantic in my life. He may be rugged, but he’s got style. Was he nice? Did you invite him back to Lincoln after the cruise? I almost called you, but I didn’t dare. Tell me, Lauren. Tell me everything!”

  Closely shadowed by her friend, Lauren continued through to the back room and plunked her purse in the bottom drawer of the file cabinet. “How can I tell you anything if I can’t get a word in edgewise?”

  “Okay. I’ll shush. Give.”

  Lauren only wished she could. She’d spent a good part of the night thinking about Matthew Kruger, and she still didn’t know what to make of him. “Yes, he was nice. Yes, the cruise was nice. Romantic? Well, I don’t know about that. And no, I did not invite him back to Lincoln.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it wasn’t called for. And we weren’t on a date. He was my brother’s friend. That’s all. We talked a little about Brad and a little about other things. Period.”

  “Did he explain why he’d been hanging around outside for so long?”

  For the first time that morning, Lauren smiled. Dryly. “If you can believe it, he was trying to get up his nerve to come in. Brad had shown him a picture of me. I wasn’t quite what he’d expected.”

  “That’s marvelous!” Beth’s eyes grew rounder. “The handsome prince was so taken with your beauty that he was actually awestruck. I love it!”

  Lauren screwed up her face and carefully enunciated her words. “Handsome prince? Taken with my beauty? Awestruck? What have you been reading, Beth?”

  “Come on. I think this is great. Are you seeing him again?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

  “Just that. He didn’t say anything about seeing me again, and I wasn’t about to put him on the spot.” Lauren reached for a can and began to spoon fresh coffee into a filter.

  “ ‘Put him on the spot.’ ” Beth snorted. “Straight from the mouth of the old you. The new you is sought-after. You’d be doing him a favor to consider seeing him again…. Well?”

  “Well, what?”

  “Are you?”

  “What?” Lauren measured out water and poured it into the top of the coffee maker.

  Beth sighed in frustration. “Considering seeing him again.”

  “I don’t know.”

  As coffee began to trickle slowly into the carafe, Beth rolled her eyes and muttered, “This is absurd. We’re going in circles. Do you or do you not want to see the man again?”

  Lauren turned toward her friend. “I don’t know! Damn it, Beth, how can I give you a better answer if I don’t have one myself? Yes, I liked him, and under normal circumstances I’d be glad to see him again. But these aren’t exactly normal circumstances. In the first place, the man lives on the West Coast. He’s only here doing business, most of which keeps him in the western part of the state. He’ll be going back to San Francisco and he hates to fly. I don’t exactly have the time to zip out to see him every weekend—not to mention the money, when there are so many other things I have it earmarked for.” She sucked in a breath. “And in the second place, he was Brad’s friend. You’re right. My parents would go bonkers.”

  “You’re an adult. They didn’t want you to go to the Bahamas, but you did it. They didn’t want you to leave Bennington or open this shop, but you did both. You don’t need their permission. You can do whatever you want and see whomever you want.”

  Lauren sighed loudly. “I know that, Beth. I’m not asking their permission for anything. I have qualms of my own about seeing Matt again. He was a friend of Brad’s. He sees me and my parents through Brad’s eyes. And he’s a confirmed bachelor who loves taking off with the guys and shooting the rapids for a week. So what’s the point?”

  “The point,” Beth murmured, wiggling her brows, “is that he’s single and gorgeous.”

  “I thought he was too rugged for you.”

  “For me, yes. For you, no. The two of you looked great walking out of here together last night. I’m telling you, see where it leads.”

  “You have a one-track mind,” Lauren grumbled, brushing a wisp of hair from her low-belted, apricot jersey dress.

  “And you’re in a lousy mood. Where’s your sense of humor? Hey, I’ll bet Matthew Kruger would be the perfect one to ward off the ghost that’s hanging out at your farm.”

  “Humph. I’m beginning to think I need something. That ghost was at work again.”

  Beth blinked once, then again. The coffee continued to trickle in the background, its rich aroma wafting from the carafe and spreading through the small room. “Excuse me?”

  “That ghost. I swear it went through my things yesterday.”

  “Wait a minute, Lauren. There are no such things as ghosts.”

  “You’re the one who’s been touting them.”

  “I was teasing.”

  “Then I guess you’ve teased once too often. I’m almost becoming a believer.”

  “You’re not serious!”

  “Well, maybe not. But still … it was weird.” She made a face accordingly. “I could have sworn I’d put certain things in certain places at home, and they were still there, just … shifted somehow.”

  Beth leaned back against the desk and crossed her arms over her chest. She might have been a psychiatrist for the indulgent tone of her voice. “I think you’re going to have to be more specific. In what ways were they ‘shifted’?”

  “Small ways. A bottle of perfume turned around so that the sculpted bird faced the wall. A pair of shoes neatly set in the closet, with the right shoe on the left and the left one on the right. A pair of underpants perfectly folded, but inside out. I always turn them the right way before I fold them. Underpants.” She shuddered, then whispered in dismay, “Can you believe it?”

  “Maybe you should call the police.”

  “I thought about that, but I feel like a fool! I mean, it’s not as if anything were taken. The locks on the doors were intact, and as far as I could tell, none of the windows had been jimmied open. Ruling out a breaking and entering, I’d say someone might have just walked in, except that I’m the only one with a key.”

  “How about the realtor who sold you the place?”

  “I had the locks changed right after I moved in.” Lauren gave a guttural laugh. “That’s about all I’ve done, but it does preclude a human visitor.” She took a deep breath. “So either it was a ghost, or I’m simply not as meticulous about things as I used to be. Maybe that’s it. I mean, I suppose I have been preoccupied with the shop. It’s very possible that I wasn’t paying attention when I put the perfume bottle back or took the shoes off or folded the laundry.” She looked beseechingly at Beth. “So what are the police going to say?”

  “Mmm. I see your point. Maybe you should get a dog.”

  “One encounter with a dog on my property was enough.”

  “Then a burglar alarm system.”

  “A burglar alarm isn’t going to stop a ghost. And it sure isn’t going to improve my own absentmindedness, if that’s what it was.” She reached for a clean mug and poured herself some coffee. When she looked up to find a smug smile spreading over Beth’s face, she scowled. “Now what are you thinking?”

  “That I was right all along. Matthew Kruger may be just the one to protect you. All you have to do is to coax him along. Before you know it, he’ll be thinking of that farmhouse as his second home.”

  “Matt is going back to San Francisco. How many times must I tell you that? And even if he wasn’t, I can’t use the man that way.”

  “Seems to me he’d get something out of the arrangement.”

  “Humph. When—and if—I take a live-in lover, it’ll be because I truly adore whoever he is, not because I need him as a bodyguard.”

  “You could truly adore your bodyguard.”

  Lauren sank into a chair and raised her mug. She spoke slowly and distinctly, as though her friend might not understand her otherwise. “I am going to drink my coffee now and gather my thoughts. Then I am going to face this new day with a bright smile and a free mind.” She closed her eyes, brought the mug to her lips, sipped the coffee, then sighed.

  Somewhere between the sip and sigh, Beth gave up on her and left the room.

  The shop grew busier as the noon hour approached, and Jamie’s arrival at one was a relief. Beth ran out to pick up sandwiches, returning shortly thereafter with news far more interesting than that the rye bread had caraway seeds.

  “Have you looked outside lately?” she murmured excitedly to Lauren as she passed on her way to the back room.

  Lauren had been helping a customer decide which of two silk-screen prints to buy. She glanced toward the front window.

  Matt. Sitting on the bench she was coming to think of as his. Reading a book.

  Reading a book? That was a novel approach! Not that she doubted he was a reader; he looked more than comfortable with the paperback in his hand. But reading a book in the middle of the bustling Marketplace and on that particular bench? What was he thinking? What did he want?

  She returned her attention to her customer, pleased that in the minute she’d been distracted he’d decided on the print she’d originally recommended. Decisions on its framing proved to be more difficult, what with so many different mat boards and frames to choose from, but Lauren didn’t mind. This was the part of the job she really enjoyed, and the shop made far more money on matting and framing than on the sale of the prints themselves.

  It was only after she’d written up the customer’s order, taken a deposit and let her gaze follow him to the door that she glanced again at the bench outside.

 

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