Strange, though, the more she thought about it, the more she realized she didn't know a lot. She wasn't even certain how Cody had died. Daniel had checked the body, but he'd forced her from the room before she'd seen any wound or indication of how Cody had met his death. When she called, what was she going to tell the police? The truth was, she wasn't even certain the lab tech was dead. She'd taken Daniel's word for it-and she'd discovered exactly how good Daniel's word was.

"Meow!"

Familiar was at the top of the stairs demanding entry into the house. He shifted from the door to a lookout position back down the long, winding drive. Normally Sarah loved the solitude that several heavily wooded acres gave the house, but this time she couldn't help the slight shiver that pa.s.sed through her. It was a long driveway, and the trees and undergrowth had been left thick and unkempt. For privacy.

Sarah pulled the key from her purse and opened the door, tossing her overnight bag in behind Familiar. Just to be on the safe side, she scanned the driveway, then walked around the deck to check the boat dock. The motorboat that Uncle Vince used to explore the bay was hanging from the lift in the boathouse and there was no other boat in sight. She was completely alone.

So THIS IS UNCS PAD on the bay. Nice digs. Very private, very solitary, very expensive. I just wonder if the car that's been following us is one of Unc's hired protectors, the hardheaded Agent Dubonet, or the black sedan from the beauty salon. All I can say is that I'm glad Eleanor and Peter left this morning for a three-day trip to New York. They a.s.sumed, wrongly of course, that I would remain in the house. Magdelene, that dear, kindly woman, is supposed to look in on me. I hope I don't worry her too much, but I don't see how I can make it home tonight. All in all, it's been a rather hectic day.

I enjoyed the party. All those young bipeds shrieking and stumbling after the ponies. I'm telling you, those ponies deserve a tolerance award. Young humans have to be taught that animals feel pain, and let me tell you, some of those youngsters were pulling tails and poking those ponies. I'm afraid it would have been "To the moon, Alice" for a few of them if I had been a pony.

The only person of any real interest was Lucinda Watts. She must be in her fifties now, but she's a looker. Ever since I've lived in Washington, I've heard her name bandied about by those who want to appear to be part of the inner circle. Luanda's parties are legendary, as is her past. Even Eleanor knows the gossip that Lucinda was once a stripper on the Gulf Coast and that she's closely linked with a former vice president. As in, romantically linked. Well, whatever exercise she does to keep her figure, it works. She looked great.

Now, let's explore this joint. Master bedroom and bath upstairs. Guest bedroom and bath, upstairs. Kitchen and den, complete with a cozy fireplace, downstairs. Sensible and easy. I like this. But what are we going to do for two days? We have a mystery to solve back in Washington.

Maybe I can convince Dolly to pack up early. I'm not exactly the kind of cat to lounge around and watch television all evening. I need to be where the action is.

Uncle Vince's taste in magazines is interesting. Here's one on architecture, another on medical advances, one on interior design, and one on history. And, what's this? A family photo alb.u.m. It might be interesting to see this Jean-Claude. Every time Unc mentions his name, Sarah cringes. He must have been a real pain in the old b.u.t.t when they were growing up.

Here's Unc, with his arm around a handsome woman. She looks French or Italian with that nose. Dark hair, dark eyes, very striking woman. I wonder... I never hear any reference to Auntie Minton. We know there was one, a la Jean-Claude. But what happened to her? Divorce or death? That's an interesting question.

Now here's the little tyke. A very handsome young boy. The clothes are a little too much. He looks like a store window mannequin, but that's not enough to make Sarah dislike him. But there is something about the smile. Sort of thin-lipped, if I do say so myself. Maybe I'm just looking for a reason to dislike him, since Dolly is so against him.

Now who is this? A very tall man with.. .yes, that's a gun on his hip. And I think the edge of a badge hidden by a little girl's head. Yep, it's Dolly, and that must be her father, Cal Covington. I like the way he's holding her on his lap, sort of looking at the top of her head and not at the camera. And there's the mother, next page. Mora. She looks like Marilyn Monroe. Now I know where Dolly gets her looks. What a cla.s.sic face! And that blond hair done up like Tippi Hedron in The Birds. Very chic. She doesn't look so unhappy here. She's actually smiling. Life can certainly throw a few hard curves.

Now here's Unc and Daddy. They 're both tall, but Dad's a little taller. They look like they've shared a lot together. There's a warm friendship there. Oops, here comes Dolly. Maybe I should put this away. Or maybe it would be more interesting to see what she does.

"OH, FAMILIAR." Sarah reached for the alb.u.m and drew it over to her lap. She stroked the cat. "That's my family." She stared at the page, and then traced the outline of her father's face. "He was a good man, Familiar. He didn't do anything wrong. No matter what anyone says."

The sound of footsteps on the stairs made Sarah slam the alb.u.m shut. No one was expected. No one knew she was at Idlewild.

A key slid in the lock, and the door swung open. Sarah felt her stomach drop.

"h.e.l.lo, Sarah." The tall man's dark eyes took in her unhappy expression. "I hate to intrude on your solitude, but Father made me promise that I'd check on you."

"Jean-Claude." Sarah stood. "It's been a long time."

"And I get the feeling you'd prefer that it was even longer." He waved away her denials. "I was horrible to you when we were youngsters. I know there's no way to make you believe I've grown up, except to show you. And I have grown up." He noticed the cat. "I didn't realize you'd brought a pet with you. I hope it doesn't have any fleas."

"Sorry." Sarah couldn't even make it sound convincing. "Uncle Vince said I could bring the cat." She took in the sight of her adoptive cousin. He was tall, a little too thin, but muscular, like a runner. With his dark hair and eyes and skin, handsome didn't begin to do him justice. But he also seemed ill-at-ease. He kept looking around the room as if he expected to see someone else.

"Yes, he could never deny you anything, could he?" Jean-Claude's dark eyes were impossible to read. "So, what were you planning for the evening? Perhaps we could go to dinner. There are some wonderful places nearby, and I know you must be sick and tired of cooking."

"Not really." Sarah saw her hopes to call the authorities slipping away. She couldn't possibly make the call with Jean-Claude there.

"Father tells me you've become quite the success. How did your party go? Was Lucinda there?"

"Yes, but I hardly had a chance to notice. She's been at the last several functions I've catered." Sarah had never thought about it, but Lucinda Watts had been present at all of the entertainments. In contrast to her reputation as a party girl, Lucinda had been quiet, reserved, and conservatively dressed. A big change from her youthful days when she'd been the hottest attraction along the Gulf Coast strip. She'd known Sarah's father-a friendship of sorts. Sarah had sometimes suspected that Lucinda was throwing some chef business her way.

"Lucinda is a fascinating woman," Jean-Claude said as he took a seat in a chair across the coffee table from Familiar. "It wasn't that long ago she was jumping out of birthday cakes at parties. Now she's one of the most significant hostesses in the city, or so Father says."

"Yes, so I've heard." Sarah found it difficult to talk with Jean-Claude. There was an edge to his voice at any mention of his father. Almost an anger.

"Father wanted to tell you, but..." His smile was genuine as he handed her a slip of paper from his inner coat pocket. "She's going to hire you for a big bash next week. She asked me to give you these instructions and dates." He handed her a slip of paper from his inner coat pocket.

"Did your father put this together?" Sarah was delighted.

Jean-Claude tensed. "Lucinda was enthralled with the cake and ice cream. So perfect for the senator. Subtle yet eclectic. I believe those were her words." Jean-Claude's accent was more foreign than his father's, a reflection of his recent years in Paris.

"I'm glad I impressed her." Sarah felt as if she were talking to a stranger. Not once had Jean-Claude mentioned his work or his interests or himself.

"Sarah, in all of the years we've known each other, our families have teased us, saying we would marry."

Sarah was at a loss. "I'm sure you find that as uncomfortable as I do."

Jean-Claude lifted his eyebrows. "To be honest, I don't. We have a common background. If Mother had lived, she would have viewed you as a daughter."

"But..."

"But what?" He leaned closer. There was a measure of desperation in his face.

"Just because our families know each other doesn't make this a match made in heaven." Jean-Claude was making her very uncomfortable. Paris had not smoothed the rough edges of his behavior.

"Your mother would be very relieved. She's worried about you. About your future, about the fact that you seem to prefer to live alone."

"And how do you know these things?" This time Sarah was definitely interested. She couldn't believe Mora was spilling her guts to Jean-Claude.

"Our parents are close, chine."

The endearment that sounded so natural on Uncle Vince's lips was much more intimate coming from Jean-Claude. Sarah inched closer to Familiar, who obligingly sprawled across her lap.

"Jean-Claude, you've been living in Paris and have traveled around the world. Surely you've met women you've felt some true affection for. You don't really know me. You just have a tiny shard of memory of a little girl."

He shrugged, a gesture as foreign as his accent. "One thing I've learned in my travels is that affection grows between two people who share the same goals. Besides, we have the past, cherie. And the future is treacherous." He must have realized how intense he had become, because he smiled and he leaned back. "As you say, I've been away. For most of my life I've been at boarding school or in Europe. Since I've come home, I've learned many things, especially about my father's business. You have no one to guide you since your father is dead." His expression was unreadable. "I would protect you."

"Do you remember my father? Do you remember how he spanked you for biting me?" Sarah felt the need to goad Jean-Claude. His talk about marriage was positively giving her the creeps.

"I remember Cal. He was a wonderful father. An honorable man who was destroyed by forces outside his control." He sighed. "Let me get us some wine. I see by the tears in your eyes that I have finally touched you. We have much together, even though it was long ago."

He disappeared into the kitchen, and Sarah got a grip on her emotions. Jean-Claude had grown up. He seemed to have developed a sense of himself and others that he'd lacked as a young boy. But there was something else going on with him, too. Something she didn't understand at all.

Jean-Claude returned with two gla.s.ses of red wine. He offered her one. "Your father's death was an unnecessary tragedy. One I don't want to see repeated."

"What?" Sarah almost spilled her wine.

"Uncle Cal was not a fool, nor was he a careless man. I believe someone killed him."

"Jean-Claude." Sarah felt the blood rush to her face at hearing her own worst fears spoken aloud. "This isn't something I want to discuss. You were away at school in New Orleans when this happened. We were both just children. You have no idea about the facts, and I'm not certain I do, either. A lot of things were kept from me, to protect me. I still haven't learned the truth. Mother isn't one to talk about the past, you know."

"But if someone thought your father knew something, or that he had something, they might have killed him and made it look like he was shot during a robbery. That way, no one would ever think to look for the guilty party. Don't you see? It's perfect."

His reasoning was well ordered, but Sarah pushed it all away. She didn't want to discuss it with him. More than anything, she needed time to think.

"I can see I've upset you." Jean-Claude put his winegla.s.s down. "I become too intense. Even as a child-" he laughed with a light note of self-deprecation "-I was too intense. But you know that, cherie." He walked around behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. "I will ask only one thing."

"What is that?" She felt her back stiffen and couldn't stop it.

"That you think about what I've said. All of it. I am concerned for you, for reasons I cannot explain." His grip tightened. "And remember, for all of my shortcomings, I am my father's son."

Sarah nodded. "I will think about everything you've said."

"Perhaps it would be better if we postponed our dinner."

"I think that would be best."

Familiar, who'd been relaxed in Sarah's lap, lifted a paw and slapped Jean-Claude's hand with just enough claw that it startled him.

He withdrew his hand and examined the four tiny pinp.r.i.c.ks of blood. "I don't believe your cat cares for me. Perhaps he's jealous.''

Sarah eased the cat to the sofa and stood, effectively slipping out from under Jean-Claude's remaining hand. "Perhaps he is."

"I'm going back to the city. If you pursue the matter of the past, I'd like to help you."

"I don't know. I have to think about it. There's Mother, too."

"Yes, it would reopen wounds."

"Why are you suddenly so interested, Jean-Claude?" She faced him fully. "After all of these years, why now?" "I have heard Father speak of you recently. I never listened to a lot of things. Today I saw you at Senator Banks's party. I knew I wanted to take care of you."

Sarah flushed, and she found no words to ease the tension that grew between them.

"I'll call you later and make a formal date. By the way, Father said that agent who was annoying you is in serious trouble. There's been a murder, another agent. They suspect Mr. Dubonet is involved."

"What did you hear?" Sarah knew she was too eager, and she saw Jean-Claude's surprise.

"Only that. Father probably knows more if you'd like to call him in New York."

"No." Sarah couldn't do that. Besides, she probably knew more than anyone, except Daniel and the murderer.

"Beware of that man. He's trouble. If he bothers you at all, call me or Father."

"Of course."

Familiar sat perched on the arm of the sofa as Sarah followed Jean-Claude to the door and locked it behind him. She turned back to face the cat, her face pale. "What can happen next?" she asked Familiar.

The knock at the door came so close to where she was standing that Sarah jumped forward, stifling a scream.

"Sarah? Are you okay?" Daniel's voice filtered through the heavy door.

"What are you doing here?" Sarah felt an odd mixture of relief and anger.

"We have to talk. Someone was following you from the senator's today."

"I know." Sarah put her hand on the door. She had a choice: she didn't have to let him in. "He was a friend of mine."

"He? He, who?"

"It's really none of your business, Daniel." Sarah's patient tone was laced with sarcasm. "It was someone who's interested in my well-being and safety. And they warned me to stay away from you."

"I have to talk to you."

"We are talking, Daniel, but not for long. You need to leave here. There's nothing we have to say to each other."

"Listen, Sarah, I'm in big trouble. They think I might have been involved in killing Cody."

She heard the worry in his voice, a worry she couldn't allow herself to believe. "I don't trust you, Daniel. Every time I let you into my life something awful happens."

"Sarah, please. I came all of this way to tell you something."

She looked at Familiar, shaking her head. Sighing, she unlocked the door. She didn't trust Daniel, but she wasn't afraid of him. "What?"

"I got into Cody's files. There was no record of the tests he did on the pepper. Someone had cleaned everything out. It's as if he never ran the tests."

She motioned him inside and closed the door. Logically, she had to understand that Daniel himself could have removed all the files. He had the opportunity.

"What about your apartment? Did they find any fingerprints?"

Daniel tugged at his eyebrow. "There was never a request to check. Cody never got around to filing it, or..." He looked at the two winegla.s.ses sitting on the coffee table, both still full. "Or someone intercepted it."

"Someone in the Bureau?"

"Yes." His shoulders sagged. "I honestly don't know what to do. Cody was the one person I could trust. And I've checked on Glen Henderson. No one by that name ever attended the academy. That's a dead end."

Sarah stamped down hard on the sympathy she felt for Daniel. He looked so beaten-but he was the one who had dragged through her past with Joshua Jenkins. Maybe he was just getting what he deserved. "What are you going to do?"

He took a step toward her. "You're not going to like this, but whatever is going on involves your past."

"You can just take this line of bull and get out." Sarah pointed at the door. "Why is it that everyone is suddenly so interested in my past? No one wanted to probe into my father's death when he died. Now it seems everyone and their brother is interested in Daddy. Well, it's just another attempt by the FBI to ruin a good man's name. Get out!"

"Sarah-"

"Get out or I'll scream."

Darnel's grin was a mere ghost that flickered across his face. "To point out the obvious, no one would hear you."

"Daniel..." She felt her breath grow short. Was he threatening her?

"Don't scream, and don't call the police. I'm sure by now every law enforcement agency in the world is looking for me. I'll leave, but at least let me check the house and make sure it's secure. I wasn't lying about someone following you."