Veronica closed the door and led the way into the living room. "I kept thinking I heard the phone ringing every time I started to drop off."

He didn't have to ask if it had ever rung. She would have called him if it had.

Or, barring that, she wouldn't have been here.

Before he realized what he was doing or could bank down the impulse, he combed the hair out of her face with his fingers. She mutely looked up at him in startled surprise. Chad dropped his hand to his side.

"You really should get some sleep," he said mildly.

"Can't," she murmured. "I tried." She lifted her shoulders in a slight dismissive shrug. "I'll sleep when we get Casey back." A silent prayer followed the affirmation.

Chad merely nodded as he glanced at his watch. Eight-fifteen. "Bank won't be open for another forty-five minutes." His eyes swept over her. Even rumpled, the woman looked appealing. But he doubted it was the kind of impression she wanted to convey to the bank president. "Maybe you'd like to change," he suggested politely.

Like a woman only marginally coming out of a trance, Veronica looked down at her clothes. Her appearance had been the last thing on her mind. Her expression was rueful as she raked her fingers through her hair.

"Maybe," she agreed. She began to turn, then stopped and looked at him. Her lack of organization was beginning to get to her. You never know how you'll behave in a crisis until it hits, she thought. Now she knew. And she wasn't very happy with herself. "Are you hungry? Angela's in the kitchen and can make you breakfast while you wait. I won't be long."

He wondered if their definitions of "long" were similar. He doubted it. "I'm fine." He never ate breakfast. It tended to slow him down in the morning. "But I might get a cup of coffee if it's made."

"There's plenty." She'd poured several cups into herself already in an attempt to banish the haze around her brain.

He wasn't quite sure what made him pause to watch her as she hurried upstairs.

Certainly watching well-shaped legs as she mounted the stairs didn't have anything to do with the case. Rousing himself, Chad made his way into the kitchen.

He wasn't as much interested in getting a cup of coffee as he was in checking out the housekeeper. Veronica had vouched for her, but Veronica struck him as the type to vouch for everyone within her sphere of acquaintance. As distrustful as she attempted to portray herself, he had a hunch that she hadn't a clue as to how dark a place the world could be. Money, or more specifically, the lack of it, could make normally good people do some pretty bad things.

And if you were bad to begin with...

He let the thought trail off as he entered the kitchen.

Angela Evans stood at the counter with her back to him. She was a small-boned, trim woman, and when she turned around, he could see she was probably in her late fifties. Her main physical attribute was her smile. She flashed it at him, taking his presence in stride. "May I help you?"

He detected the slightest hint of an accent. Southern, he thought. New Orleans, maybe.

"Ms. Lancaster said I might be able to get a cup of coffee. She's getting dressed," he added in case the woman wondered what he was doing here by himself.

"Poor lamb," Angela murmured with a shake of her head. She crossed to the far end of the counter where the coffeemaker stood. The pot was still three-quarters full.

She got down a cup and saucer. "How do you like it?"

"That's okay." Very gently he maneuvered so that she was forced to step back. "I can serve myself." He saw no reason for her to wait on him. She wasn't in his employ.

The coffee was rich and dark as it settled into his cup, the aroma strong.

Unconsciously he nodded his approval. He met her gaze as he raised his cup and asked a question he already had the answer to. "Have you been with Ms. Lancaster long?"

It was then he saw the sadness in the woman's dark eyes. "Only since she married Mr. Robert and moved into this house." Long, thin fingers took his arm in an urgent supplication. "Are you going to be able to find him? The baby?"

He set the cup down. "Baby?" he echoed a little uncertainly.

"Casey. He is my baby." The smile reappeared, smaller. Rueful. "My children are all grown and on their own now. Taking care of Casey was like taking care of my own again. Please, you have to find him before something terrible happens." The earnest look in her eyes gave way to something darker. "And when you do, you will leave me alone with the man who has done this awful thing."

A smile played on his lips. He admired people who didn't lie down and let life steamroll right over them. "I think what you have in mind is against the law."

"Man's law, maybe. But so is taking a defenseless baby from his mother. All I ask for is five minutes," she told him, holding up a hand to splay out her fingers.

"Just five minutes, and then you can have him."

His nod was noncommittal, hiding his amus.e.m.e.nt. She made him think of a stick of dynamite, small but definitely lethal if lit.

"I'll think about it." He took a long sip of the coffee, letting it wind through his system. Feeling a kick. Man, he thought, two cups of this could get a car running. "Have you seen anyone hanging around lately?" He studied her as he spoke.

"Anyone taking unusual interest in the house or the boy while making deliveries, maybe?"

"No strangers. No deliveries. I do all the shopping for food myself." She gave him the impression that she had already gone over everything. "The gardener comes by once a week, but he and his son have been taking care of the property for years now."

"So you haven't noticed anything out of the ordinary?" he asked again, hoping to jar her memory if there was some small incident she might have overlooked.

"I only wish I had." And then she looked past his head. The gentle smile returned. "You look very nice, Miss Veronica."

He turned around in time to see Veronica cross the room. She looked like a model for the cover of a fashion magazine. Except for her eyes. She couldn't mask the pain there.

Veronica squeezed the housekeeper's hand. "You don't lie all that well, Angela."

Taking a deep breath, she turned to look at Chad. "All right, I'm ready."

It wouldn't take them long. He knew her bank's location. After all the time he'd put in at the office last night, he knew a great deal about Veronica Lancaster.

Working the computer and its resources was far from second nature to him, but he was dogged about it, and eventually he had found the information he was looking for.

As the night had worn on, he'd pored over news clippings from the society page

that dealt with her wedding and read the stories that doc.u.mented both her husband Robert's untimely death and the funeral that had been attended by what seemed a cast of thousands from the social register and the world of high finance. In between, he read accounts of the parties Veronica had thrown while raising money for various high-profile charities. She was on the board of several national committees that concerned themselves with raising money for medical research seeking cures for half a score of diseases. All his reading had brought him to the conclusion that Veronica Lancaster was ordinarily one busy lady.

A busy lady whose life had ground to an abrupt halt.

"It shouldn't take us long to get to the bank." He nodded toward the stove, endearing himself, he noted, to Angela as he did so. "Why don't you have something to eat?"

The suggestion had her pressing her hand to her stomach. She could almost feel the knot. "I don't think I could keep anything down."

He ignored her protest and looked at Angela. "Have any m.u.f.fins in there?" He nodded toward the industrial-size, chrome-door refrigerator.

Angela gave a snort as she turned around and opened the refrigerator. "Mister, I have everything in there." It wasn't an empty boast. Every shelf was filled to capacity.

"And it can stay in there." Veronica waved for her to close the door again. "I appreciate your concern, Chad, but unless you want to spend time steam-cleaning your car's upholstery, I really think you should listen to me on this one."

Normally he believed in people making up their own minds about things. He had no idea what had him pushing the envelope with this woman. "A tank running on empty doesn't go very far."

"The fumes will see me through for a while." she promised. Veronica began to edge toward the kitchen doorway.

Angela stood in the center of the kitchen, her hands on her hips, shaking her head in disapproval. Her gaze swung to Chad.

"Get her to eat something," she implored him as he left.

"I'll try." Though he had serious doubts that anyone could get Veronica Lancaster to do anything against her will. He caught up to her in a few strides and opened the front door. "You told Angela." He wouldn't have thought she'd open up to a housekeeper, not after keeping her brother-in-law and her friend at least partially in the dark.