Elcott Frasier didn’t bat an eye. He looked faintly bored. Lily, though, who knew him well, saw the slight tic in his left eye, there only when he was stressed out or angry. He could be either or both at this moment in time. She was surprised initially at what Simon had said but realized that it had probably happened just as Simon had said. She said, “Jorgenson is indeed powerful, Elcott. He isn’t a small man at all, not like you.”

Simon thought their father-in-law would belt her. He was ready for it, but Frasier managed to hold himself in. He said, dismissively and as smoothly as a politician accepting a bribe for a pardon, “That’s quite a scenario, Mr. Russo. I’m sorry to hear four of the paintings were forged. No matter what you say, it must have happened while they were at the Chicago Institute. All this elaborate plot by this fellow Olaf Jorgenson sounds like a bad movie. However, none of this has anything to do with me or my family. I really don’t know why you came here to accuse me of it.”

He turned to Lily and there was a good deal of anger in those eyes of his. “As for you, Lily, you left my son. I fear for his health. He is not doing well. All he talks about is you. He says that your brother and sister-in-law slandered him, and none of it’s true. He wants to see you, although if I were him, and I’ve told him this countless times, I’d just as soon see the back of you for good. You weren’t a good wife to him. You gave him nothing, and then you just up and left him. His mother is also very concerned. The mere idea that he would marry you to get ahold of some paintings, it’s beyond absurd.”

“I don’t think it’s absurd at all, Elcott. It could have happened the way Mr. Russo said. Or maybe it was Mr. Monk who found Mr. Jorgenson. Either way, four of my paintings are fakes and you are the one responsible.

“Now, if Tennyson isn’t doing well, I recommend that he pay a visit to Dr. Rossetti, the psychiatrist he very badly wanted me to see when I was still in the hospital. One wonders what he had to do with all this.” Lily paused a moment, shrugged, then continued. “But of course you would know about that. How much did you pay Morrie Jones to kill me?”

“I didn’t pay him a-” She’d snagged him, caught him completely off guard. He’d burst right out with it, then cut off like a spigot, but too late. Simon was impressed.

The tic was very pronounced now, and added to it was a face turning red with outrage.

“You’re quite a bitch, you know that, Lily? I can see why you brought your bodyguard with you. This painting business, I don’t know what you’ve done, but you can’t lay it on me. I’m not to blame for anything.”

Simon wanted, quite simply, to stand, reach over Mr. Frasier’s desk, and yank the man up by his expensive shirt collar and smash him in the jaw. It surprised him, the intense wish to do this man physical damage. But when he spoke, he was calm, utterly measured. “Trust me, Mr. Frasier, Lily isn’t a bitch. As for your precious son, what he is isn’t in much doubt. Would you like to tell us why Abe Turkle is staying at your cottage?” Simon sat slightly forward in his chair, the soul of polite interest.

“I don’t know who that is or why he’s there. The real estate agent handles rentals.”

“Naturally Abe knows you, Mr. Frasier, knows everything, since he’s forged the paintings for you. I do know that he’s expensive. Or perhaps Olaf is handling his payments as part of the deal?”

Mr. Frasier got to his feet. The pulse was pounding in his heavy neck. He was nearly beyond control, his hands shaking. Almost there, Simon thought. Elcott Frasier pointed to the door and yelled, “I don’t know any damned Olaf! Now, get out, both of you. Lily, I don’t wish to see you again. It’s a pity that the mugger didn’t teach you a lesson.”

Simon said, “We’ll return for a very nice visit, along with the FBI, when we have our proof. Not much longer. Consider this a reality check. You might want to consider cutting a deal right now, with us. If you don’t, just think of all those big, mean prisoners in the federal lockups; they like vulnerable old guys like you.”

“Get out or I’ll call the sheriff!”

Lily laughed, couldn’t help it. “Sheriff Bozo?”

Elcott Frasier yelled, “His name is Scanlan, not Bozo!” Then he nearly ran to the door, jerked it open, and left them staring after him. Simon said to Lily as he helped her to her feet, “It’s been quite a morning, first Abe and now your soon-to-be-ex-father-in-law, both of them leaving us in their lairs and stalking off. But everyone is shook up now, Lily. We’ve stirred the pot as much as we can. Now we wait to see who does what. Just maybe old man Frasier will decide to cut a deal. Now, you ready for a light lunch, maybe Mexican?”

“There isn’t a Mexican restaurant in Hemlock Bay. We’ll have to go to Ferndale.”

Loralee Carmichael looked them over very carefully as they left the reception area. Simon wiggled his fingers in good-bye to her. There was no sign of Elcott Frasier.

He said carefully, as he walked slowly beside her to the elevator, “I want you to consider leaving the rest of this to me. Can I talk you into going back to Washington?”

“No, don’t even try, Simon.”

“I had to try. When bad men are afraid, Lily, they do things that aren’t necessarily smart, but are, many times, deadly.”

“Yes. We will be very careful.”

He sighed and gave it up. “Over tacos we can discuss our next foray.”

“Do you really think that Olaf Jorgenson set this whole thing up?”

“When you think about it, he’s the one with all the contacts and the expertise, unless our Mr. Monk knows more about the illegal side of the business than we’re aware of yet. I’m sure that Frasier will be speaking to Mr. Monk if he hasn’t already. I can’t wait to hear what this guy with his bedroom eyes has to say.”

Simon paused a moment, then said, “That’s all of it, Savich, every gnarly detail.”

Simon switched his cell phone to his other ear, waiting for Savich to ask him questions, but Savich didn’t say anything. Simon could practically hear him sorting through possible scenarios.

“Lily did really good, Savich. She’s tired, but she’s hanging in. I’ve tried to talk her into going back to Washington, but she won’t hear of it. I swear I’ll keep her safe.”

“I know you will,” Savich said finally. “Just to let you know, Clark Hoyt, the SAC in the Eureka FBI office, is going to provide you backup. I figured you guys would stir everything up and that could be very dangerous. I don’t want you to be on your own. If you happen to see a couple of guys following you, they’re there to keep you safe. If you have any concerns, just give Clark Hoyt a call. Now, you make Lily rest. How many tacos did she get down?”

“Three ground beef tacos, a basketful of chips, and an entire bowl of hot salsa. We’re going to hole up now, then see Mr. Monk in the morning. By then, they’ll all have spoken together, examined their options, made plans. I can’t wait to see what they’ll do. Give my love to Sherlock, and let Sean teethe on your thumb. Any word on Tammy Tuttle?”

“No.”

“I’ll call you after we’ve seen Mr. Monk tomorrow.”

“Clark told me they’ve got a line on Morrie Jones. It shouldn’t be long before he’s in the local jail.”

“Thank God for that. I’ll call the cops in Eureka and find out.” He paused, then added, “I’m not planning on letting Lily out of my sight.”