He led us out of the room. "It will make for great TV, don't you think?"

I stumbled. Sean grabbed my hand to steady me.

Sean and I were sharing a hammock tied between two palm trees, overlooking ocean so beautifully blue it stole my breath. Vibrant green islands dotted the horizon. A sailboat swayed, anchored just offshore. Sean turned his head, looked at me, a smile in those pearlescent eyes of his. Our bodies were nestled, skin on skin, my hand on his chest, my bare leg draped over his, his arm around my shoulders pulling me closer, tighter. He leaned in, his gaze on my lips, his intent crystal clear....

Sean pulled his hand away. The images faded into a distant blur, but the emotions remained. Joy. Pure, raw joy filled my every pore, every bit of oxygen I breathed in. I glanced at Sean. He reached up, brushed my cheek with his knuckles. In his eyes, I could see he felt it, too.

The magic.

"The network believes documenting Christa's readjustment will be a big draw to younger viewers."

Rick hadn't noticed my little stumble. Did he ever notice what was going on around him if it didn't directly affect him? Or care? I suddenly doubted it. His tone made it clear he didn't mind that Christa would be taken away from the school and friends she'd known all her life. He actually approved of the disruption and its effects being documented for all the world to see? It was disturbing. "Rick?"

"Yes?" he said, pulling open the front door.

"When does Christa turn eighteen?"

He smiled that charming smile again. "Two months from now, in April. I can hardly believe it. Kids grow up so fast, don't they?"

17.

An hour and a half later I was behind my desk, my feet up, my head back. I couldn't shake my bad feelings about Rick Hayes. Yeah, he was pretty on the outside, but he was slimy on the inside. Karma, maybe, that his star had never truly risen.

Unfortunately, if Mac was dead Rick would be set for life. Between the life insurance policy Jemima would inherit and Christa's trust fund, he had covered all his bases.... If either one fell through he had a backup. I figured it wouldn't take long before he had a hand in those money pots.

Sean and I had dropped off Rufus's food at Dovie's, picked up Thoreau, and brought him to Sam's house, where Lizzie, Sam's wife, offered to dog-sit for the day. Very generous of her, considering the state in which Thoreau had left her carpets.

The ceiling creaked above my head-Sean was in his office upstairs getting ready for his meeting. I was trying to understand why he'd taken the case.

I dropped my feet to the floor when I heard someone coming down the hallway. Preston burst in, a manic look widening her eyes.

"He's back," she said breathlessly. "Help me catch him. I have a plan."

She didn't need to clarify the "he." By the crazed expression, I could tell the Lone Ranger had made another appearance. Digging in her bag, she pulled out a two-way radio and tossed it to me.

"Watch from the front window, okay? Tell me which way he goes. I need eyes in the skies."

"Couldn't afford a helicopter?"

"No."

She zipped out of the room before I could stand up. I never realized how fast she was before. Out front, Suz's desk chair was empty, and I had a pretty good idea of where she was. I picked up the binoculars on the window ledge and focused on the center of the commotion. Sure enough, I spotted Suz in the crowd on the Common, jumping around, snatching money out of thin air.

The walkie-talkie crackled. "Lucy, can you see him?"

The crowd had gathered around a man in a cowboy hat, but the focus of the group was solely on the twenty-dollar bills swirling in the breeze. Abruptly the masked man ducked out of sight. I squinted. "He's heading toward Charles."

"Got it."

"He's wearing a black shirt, black jeans." My pulse kicked up a notch. "He has a duffel bag strapped across his shoulders. He's taking off his mask!"

The mask went into the bag. Unfortunately, his back was to me and I couldn't get a good look at his face.

"I see him!" Preston said.

I pulled the binoculars away for a wider, panoramic view and saw Preston closing in on the man. They were but two specks in the distance. Looking over his shoulder, the Lone Ranger spotted Preston and broke into a slow run. His hat flipped off his head and somersaulted along the ground behind him. He glanced back at it but kept on moving. He disappeared behind a stand of trees and dropped out of sight.

My heart thudded.

Preston hauled ass chasing him, her arms pumping like an Olympic sprinter with the finish line in sight. Suddenly she wobbled, then pitched forward and landed face-first in the grass.

"Preston!" I cried into the walkie-talkie. I trained the binoculars on her prone form. "Are you okay?"

Nothing.

"Preston!"

Slowly, she lifted her head. I saw her bangs puff upward on an exhale. She rose to her elbows and drew the walkie-talkie to her mouth. "Damn heel! I swear I'm going to start wearing flats. Just see if I don't."

I had the feeling she was talking to her boots more than to me.

"Are you okay? Did you hurt your ankle?" I asked.

"Only my pride. I was so close."

She crawled over to the cowboy hat and picked it up. Clutching it to her chest, she asked, "Did you see which way he went?"

"Lost him behind some trees. It looked like he might be headed to the Garden gates."

A slew of curses came through the radio. Then she said, "I'll be back at the office in a sec." Slowly, she stood up, dusted off her pants, and started hobbling across the park, bypassing the frenzied crowd.

Five minutes later, she dragged herself through the door. Plopping onto the couch, she kicked her legs out and stared at the ceiling. "I can't believe I was so close."

I handed her a bottle of water. "You gave a good chase."

Twisting off the cap, she frowned at me. "I would have caught him if not for my heel coming loose again."

"I know." I felt it best to placate her. "You should have seen the look of fear on his face."

She perked up. "Really?"

"Scared to death."

"You're humoring me, but I don't care. Next time, I'll be wearing sneakers. He won't have a chance."

She was tenacious; I'd give her that.

Beaming, she shook the hat at me. "This will get me a front-page story at least."

"Absolutely. The Lone Ranger is the hottest story in town. You have something no one else does."

Running a finger along the brim of the hat, she said woefully, "Why can't you get readings from the lost object itself?"

I lifted an eyebrow. "Sorry to disappoint."

"Maybe you do have that power and just don't know it yet."

It was true there was a lot I didn't know about my abilities, but I knew for sure I couldn't get a reading from an object. I'd tried. Multiple times. Hundreds. It wasn't happening. "I don't work that-"

She tossed the hat at me. "Focus. Try really hard."

I caught it. She wasn't going to let this go, so I closed my eyes and said, "Ohhhhm," for a good twenty seconds.

My eyes popped open. "It came from The Medford Millinery!"

"Oh my God! You did it!" She jumped up and down-on one leg. The heel had broken off clean from her other boot. "This is amazing. Think of all the possibilities, Lucy!"

I hated to burst her bubble. Flipping the hat over, I said, "Don't get so excited. It's on the label."

She snatched it away from me and growled. "You're not funny. I don't even know why I like you. Why do I like you?"

"You don't. You use me for stories."

A grin tugged at her lips. "Right. I forgot."

"And I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself. But hey, it's a lead. That's a custom-made hat. Custom-made hats leave a trail. Someone had to order it."

Her eyes lit. "You're right. Are you up for a field trip?"

I didn't know how long Sean's meeting with Meaghan would be, and the paperwork on my desk could surely wait. Besides, I was just as curious about the Lone Ranger as everyone else. "Okay. But we have to swing by my father's penthouse. I need to pick up my car."

"Only if I can come in for a tour."

"No."

"But, Lucy, I heard he has a Vermeer. Is that true?"

It hung over his fireplace. "Still no."

"Lucy!" She huffed, then smiled deviously. "I'll tell you about the tip I got about Tristan Rourke."

I said, "You should be sharing tips anyway!"

"Why? You're not on the case anymore."

Oh. Right. But still, Sean might be interested. And the sooner he was off this case, the better I would feel. Something about it had affected Sean on a deep, dark level, dredging up the pain that haunted his eyes.

"Sean might want to know.... Suz mentioned he had taken Meaghan on as a client."

Preston knew my weaknesses. The urge to throttle her was slowly coming back.

Wide-eyed, she said, "The Vermeer?"

I slipped on my coat and gave Preston a once-over. She was super-gluing her broken heel, trying to appear innocent. I wasn't buying it-I knew her too well. She was up to something. "What did you learn about Tristan Rourke?"

Testing her heel, she repeated doggedly, "The Vermeer?"

For Sean's sake. "Okay."

"I've been calling in favors from some of my more, shall we say, shady sources. Word on the street is that Tristan Rourke has underground headquarters in Roxbury. For two hundred dollars, one informant gave me the address, but I haven't checked it out yet. That payment will be on my expense report."

"You don't have expense reports."

"I do now."

My father was going to love that. But I had to admit, two hundred dollars was nothing if it truly led her to Tristan. Now that he was the subject of a massive manhunt, he was a huge story-bigger than reuniting him with a lost love. "Is your contact reliable?"

Offended, her face scrunched. "Of course. What kind of reporter do you think I am?"

"A good one." I had to give credit where credit was due.

She glowed under the compliment, and I almost forgot how devious she could be.

"Will you come with me? To Tristan's secret hideout?" she asked.

"I'm not on the case anymore, Preston, remember?"

Her lips twisted. "Well, I am."

"Have fun," I said, grabbing my satchel, several files, and my coat. "But I'd like that address for Sean."

She widened her eyes, blinked at me like a wounded puppy. "It's in Roxbury. One of the worst neighborhoods. I don't want to go alone. I mean, I will if I have to. If I disappear, you will tell the police my last known location, right?"

I sighed. "Fine. I'll go with you."

"I knew I could count on you."

Okay, she'd completely manipulated me, but she was right. She could count on me. I was loyal to a fault, even to people who hadn't quite earned it yet.

In the hallway, my father's office door was closed tight, he must have been with a client. I ran upstairs to see Sean, give him Preston's information, but his office door was closed and I could hear Meaghan's voice inside.