"Because he's infatuated, with the painting, with Kyna's face in his painting, and I just happen to look like her."

Rowena plucked a bottle of shampoo from a carton, examined it. "Do you think so little of yourself?"

"No. I'm not saying he couldn't be, that he isn't, interested in me. In who I am. But the painting was the start of it for him."

"And he bought the painting, chose his path. The path led to you." She replaced the bottle. "Interesting, isn't it?"

"I need to know if the choice was his."

"I'm not the one to ask. And you're not ready to believe him, should he answer." She took out another bottle, opened it to sniff. "You want me to promise you he won't be hurt. I can't do that. And I believe he would be insulted if he knew you asked such a thing."

"Then he'll have to be insulted, because I had to ask." Zoe lifted her hands, let them fall. "It probably doesn't matter. Kane's hardly bothered with me. We thought he would come out, guns blazing, but he's barely flicked at me, like he would a fly. He doesn't seem to be very concerned that I'll find the key."

"And so by ignoring you, he erodes your self-confidence. You make it easy for him."

Zoe was surprised by Rowena's dismissive tone. "I didn't say I was giving up," she began, then stopped, let out a breath. "Jesus, he's got a better handle on me than I realized. He's playing me. Most of my life people either ignored me or told me I couldn't do what I wanted to do most."

"You've proved them wrong, haven't you? Now prove him wrong."

A few miles away, at the Main Street Diner, Brad shifted so Flynn could slide into the booth beside him. Across the table, Jordan had his long legs stretched out and was already studying the two-sided laminated menu.

"That menu hasn't changed in about sixty years, pal," Flynn pointed out. "You ought to have it down by now. Got held up," he added and since Brad's coffee was already there, helped himself to it.

"How come you always sit beside me and drink my coffee? Why don't you ever sit over there and drink his?"

"I'm a sucker for tradition." He smiled up at the waitress as she sidled over with a mug and the coffeepot. "Hi, Luce, I'm going to have the meat loaf sandwich."

She nodded, noted it down. "Heard you were down at the council meeting this morning. Anything up?"

"Just the usual hot air."

She snickered, glanced at Jordan. "How about you, big boy?"

When she walked off with their orders, Flynn settled back, twitched his head toward Brad. "So, did you hear that Mr. Bigshot Vane here sent a mile-long limo to pick up his date for dinner last night?"

"No s.h.i.t? Show-off."

"It was only half a mile long, and how the h.e.l.l do you know?"

"Nose for news." Flynn tapped a finger on the side of his nose. "My sources, however, were unable to confirm if said show-off scored."

"I took the kid in Smackdown, but he whipped my a.s.s in Grand Theft Auto."

"Struck out with the mother," Jordan concluded. "I bet the kid got one large charge out of riding in that limo."

"He did. So did Zoe. Did you hear what she said the other day? She's never lain in a hammock?" His face clouded as he took his coffee back from Flynn. "How can somebody go their whole life and never lie in a hammock?"

"And now you want to buy her one so she can lie in it," Flynn decided.

"I guess I do."

"Which makes you, let's see"-Jordan stared at the ceiling-"oh, yes, that would be toast." Then he sobered. "She's a terrific woman. She deserves a break, somebody to take some of the weight."

"Working on it. With your mother, if somebody had come along who was serious about her, would that have bothered you?"

"I don't know. n.o.body ever did-or she didn't let anybody. I can't say for sure. I guess it would have depended on who it was, and how he treated her. You that serious?"

"It's heading that way, for me."

"That brings us back around," Flynn commented. "The three of us, the three of them. Pretty d.a.m.n tidy."

"Maybe sometimes things are meant to be tidy."

"I know all about that. I happen to be engaged to the queen of neat. But I think it's something we have to think about. What part you're meant to play in this production we're in," Flynn stated matter-of-factly.

He let that stew while their sandwiches were served.

"I've been thinking about it," Brad said. "It seems to me most of the clue deals with things that happened to her, or things she did before she met me. But those things brought her here. Then if we a.s.sume I'm part of it, those same clues could apply to things that happened to me, or things I did, before I met her. Those things brought me back here."

"Different paths, same destiny." Jordan nodded. "It's a theory. Now your paths have crossed."

"What you do now, that's a question," Flynn put in. "But also where. The G.o.ddess with a sword indicates a battle."

"She won't be fighting it alone," Brad promised. "The sword's sheathed in the paintings. In mine it's sheathed and placed with her in the coffin, and in the one at the Peak it's sheathed and at her hip."

"It's sheathed in the stone in the portrait Rowena did of Arthur, too. The one I bought," Jordan added.

"She never had a chance to draw it." Brad brought the image of the still, white face in the painting into his mind. "Maybe we're supposed to give her that chance."

"Maybe Malory should take another look at the paintings," Flynn suggested. "See if she missed anything. I don't-"

"Hold that thought," Jordan told him as his cell phone beeped. He flipped it out, smiled at the number on his readout. "Hey, Stretch." He lifted his coffee. "Uh-huh. It so happens my a.s.sociates are with me in my office at the moment. I can do that," he said after a minute, then tipped the phone away from his ear.

"Meeting, six o'clock, Flynn's place. I have nods of a.s.sent," he said into the phone. "That works for me. Zoe's making chili," he told his friends.

'Tell Dana to tell Zoe I'll pick her up."

"Brad says to tell Zoe he'll pick her up. We were going to swing by and give you guys a hand this afternoon... Okay, I'll just see you at home, then. Oh, hey, Dane? So, what are you wearing?"

He grinned, then shoved the phone back in his pocket. "Must've gotten disconnected."

While the chili was simmering, Zoe spread her notes and papers over the kitchen table. The house was quiet for a change. It was time to take advantage of it.

Maybe she'd tried to be too organized, mimicking Malory's style. Or she'd depended too much on books, trying to follow Dana's lead. Why not try impulse and instinct with this task as she did with other projects?

What did she do when she wanted to pick new paint for the walls, or new fabric for curtains? She spread out a bunch of samples and flipped through them until something popped out at her.

And then she knew.