"If Max recognizes it, let him deal with her. If he doesn't, well, you can be sure that as soon as Tiffany notices it's gone, there'll be a new and different set of nails on those corrupt hands of hers."

"How do you think Max will deal with her, providing he recognizes it?"

"He'll send her on a world cruise or something. Max is like your father in that he thinks money represents love."

Melody slipped into a chair. "Poor kid." She frowned. "What am I saying? She sabotaged my Thanksgiving show, and it was awesome. I was a freaking domestic goddess in that show."

Logan grinned as his fingers continued tapping at the keys. "A goddess," he said on a laugh. "Let's see if we can retrieve any of it."

Melody pulled up a chair. "I thought you said it was gone."

"The backup copies that were supposed to be shipped tomorrow to the stations airing the show are gone. I don't know if any were sent on-line. I do know the copies on the computer desktop have been deleted, but I was thinking Tiff might not know enough to look for backup on the server, so that's where I'm looking."

"You think the show might still exist?"

"Damn!"

Melody's smile froze. "That doesn't sound good."

"Looks like Sam backed up the raw footage but hasn't backed up the finished product yet. Try calling him at home."

Melody tried. "No answer," she said, closing Logan's cell phone.

"Forget it, then. We can't take a chance that the show exists anywhere in or out of cyberspace. We've got the footage in pieces, and that's a beginning."

"A beginning of what?"

"Turning the raw clips back into a Thanksgiving show."

"You know how to do that?"

"Moviemaking is my first love. One of these days, I'll have to show you my documentaries."

"You have hidden depths."

"Depths and depths of depths," Logan said. "I'll need your help, though. Got a few hours to spare?"

"I do, but I don't know about Kira. How many hours are we talking?"

"With what we've got of the original footage, all the show needs is a better than average team of experts-that's us-and five, maybe six hours to put Humpty-Dumpty together again."

"Bad analogy," Melody said, dialing Kira. "They failed with the egg."

Chapter Twenty-One.

"KIRA'S cool with staying over," Melody said, putting the phone aside.

"Thanks for calling." Logan concentrated on the computer, clicking the mouse with the speed of an expert. "Look," he said with a nod, his focus barely taken from his task. "Here's where the lamb walks in and everyone scrambles out of its way." He chuckled. "Sam cut the best part."

"Nah, the best part was where the lamb pooped on my shoe."

"Oh, God. Here it is." Logan watched the clip twice, wiping away tears of laughter when he saw a close-up of Mel's wide-eyed reaction. "Someday we're gonna send that to a funniest videos show."

The next clip showed Mel returning to the scene, shoe clean, smile in place. "Look, here's where you hug the lamb and talk it into leaving."

"But the sound's gone. It's ruined."

"I turned the audio off. We'll put the video together first then maximize the audio effects by adding sound bites, titles, credits, and special effects later." He found a segment with Melody tasting something, rolling her eyes in ecstasy, and licking her fingers. "I like that part. What were you eating, and why didn't Sam keep it?"

"Baked Indian Pudding. You're kidding about keeping it, right?"

"Maybe, but you do look cute."

Melody reached up and covered his brow with her palm.

"What are you doing?"

"Testing you for fever. Me, cute?"

"Okay, so I'm tired. So sue me. Here, let's put that clip after the one where you have a similar reaction to the scent of whatever's in the cauldron, and try a freeze-frame... here... and here. Logan hit a couple of keys and sighed in satisfaction. Then we can transition to... hey, I never saw that gang of kids before; they're adorable."

"Oh, I like that clip. Why didn't we use the kids before?"

"It's not unusual to shoot hours of videotape for a half hour show, and every video editor has his or her own vision of the finished product. It's a matter of visual storytelling. Since there's no time for Sam to recreate the original, even if he could, we'll choose what speaks to us. While our show will be essentially the same as Sam's, it'll be different as well."

"Better, you mean?"

"Nah. Sam's the best."

"He is good, but you're good, too, better maybe, and you love what you're doing right now. I would know, even if you hadn't told me. Why don't you try a career in filmmaking, instead of producing? Wouldn't you rather let your creativity run wild than produce the shows?"

"Of course I would. I love the idea. My documentaries are great, but an independent filmmaking career does not make for a stable income."

"Why are you so afraid to take a chance on life?"

"Hey, I've taken more chances than you can imagine, but the fact is that I would be gambling with my son's future. I can't do that. Every decision I make now is made with my son's well-being in mind. Enough said. Let's just get your show reworked and be grateful we can."

After that, they worked pretty much in silence, Logan revealing an amazing talent, asking for Melody's input and opinions along the way. Sometimes he showed her the difference between one visual and another, one sound and another, so she could make educated decisions. But sometimes he just knew, with the gut instinct of an artist.

In that way, with a new camaraderie and professional respect, they worked for hours without a break, except for the coffee Melody made around midnight, to keep them going.

"Sounds like there's a storm brewing outside," Melody said. "Maybe I should call home again. Holy cow, did you see the time? How much longer?" Melody dialed, using Logan's cell.

"Less than an hour, I suspect."

"But it's two a.m. Kira, it's Mel. Are you guys okay? Sounds rough out there."

Kira told Melody what was happening with the weather.

"But you two are okay?" Melody asked, nodding at Kira's answer. "Okay. Good idea. If it looks like we can't get out, we will."

Logan raised a brow when she hung up.

"Kira says there's a raging sea squall outside with trees and power lines down. On the news, they're telling everybody to stay off the roads. She says if we go out there, we'll get blown away."

"How are they faring in all this?" Logan asked with concern.

"Snug as bugs in rugs," to quote Kira. "They've been camped on your sofa, but the winds are fierce on the top floor, so they're going down to sleep in my bed. She says that's where we'll find them in the morning."

"Sounds reasonable."

Melody bit her lip. "We might be stuck here for the night."

"We already are," Logan said, turning back to the computer. "Here, what do you think of this?"

BY three a.m. they'd finished formatting and viewing a Thanksgiving show that improved on the original. A work of art, Melody thought. "It's incredible. If I weren't so tired, I'd dance," she said. "Awesome job, Kilgarven. Now, let's go home and get some sleep."

"First," he said, "let's go find an office with an outside window. This close to the ocean, we take travel warnings to heart."

"You're the native."

Five minutes later, they stood at the picture window in Gardner's corner office and counted two cars and one porch with trees crushing them. A bush flew straight toward the window, glanced off as they ducked, and kept going. A minute later, they heard the sound of breaking glass somewhere else in the building. "Oops," Melody said. "Is that going to set off the burglar alarm again?"

"Nah, we didn't reset it yet, but the night watchman is down there. Tony'U take care of it."

"Good thing."

For a while, they watched the world fly by, some debris sailing so fast they couldn't identify it. "This is like the center of a twister. Think we're on our way to Oz?"

"We will be," Logan said, "if we go out there."

A doghouse lost shingles as it rolled across the street below, bounced off of a Mercedes, and continued on its way.

"Ouch!" Logan winced. "No discrimination."

"Yeah," Mel said with a grin. "Poor rich sucker. Ain't it a shame?"

"Hey, that could have been my Volvo."

"Or my vintage beetle."

"Old. Your bug's old. That would have been a mercy killing."

"Hey! I love that car."

"It's older than you are."

"We bonded in the cradle. Hope the dog got out."

"What?"

Melody shrugged. "Hope the dog got out of that doghouse."

"Is that a ship's mast?" Logan asked, stepping closer to the window. "Call home again; make sure they're not flooding."

Melody talked with Kira for several minutes before she was satisfied they were okay. "They're fine," she told Logan after she hung up. "Don't worry, the house sits on pretty high ground." "I'm still glad you told her to take Shane back upstairs if flooding becomes a problem."

"It probably won't."

"I agree."

"Best to be safe, though. Let's go up to our office and see if we can catch some sleep."

In their office, Logan locked the door.

"Why did you do that?"

"Tony knows we're here, but I don't feature waking up to find him watching me when he makes his rounds."

"Good thought."

Logan proceeded to throw the cushions off the sofa, revealing a hidden mattress.

"I had no idea," Melody said. "Did you ever sleep here?"

"No, I requested the sofa bed when I took the job. That was about a month before we hired you. Go ahead, lie down, get some rest."

After her turn in the bathroom, Melody kicked off her spikes and reclined fully clothed on the sheeted mattress, straight as a soldier, arms at her sides, feeling like an idiot with him watching. "This is impossible," she said.

"Sleep, and that's an order."

Melody huffed but closed her eyes while Logan continued to shuffle around the office, driving her nuts. A pillow hit her in the face.

"Hey!" She sat up. "Wow. Pillows and blankets too? Gee, all the comforts." She spread the blanket over herself while Logan moved chairs around, facing them toward each other. "What are you doing?"

"Making a bed for myself. What does it look like?"

"Looks like you're afraid of me. There's plenty of room over here. I won't attack you, you know."

"I'm sorry to hear that."