“Last Tuesday.” His voice was steady, straightforward. “I helped him get hold of guest lists from several parties. Between Griffen and a few other contacts, it wasn’t difficult.”

“Did you know why he wanted them?”

“Not at first.”

“When?”

“After the Greenaway robbery. I just assumed he was playing private eye.”

So had Jeremiah. Now, he wasn’t ready to make any assumptions until all the facts were in. A hard lesson learned. “How long have you two been in touch?”

“The past two weeks.”

“Not before?”

Deegan shook his head and glanced back at Frank, who stood quietly by the empty bed, taking it all in.

Jeremiah kept pushing. “He sought you out?”

“Yes. He asked me not to tell anyone, and I didn’t.”

“Then your parents don’t know, your grandmother, Griffen Welles, Mollie-”

“Obviously I didn’t know,” Mollie put in.

Jeremiah glanced at her, knowing she was scared and upset, and he pushed back the memory of her sleek body last night. He said nothing, shifting back to Deegan, who shook his head. “Nobody knew.”

Satisfied, Jeremiah turned back to Croc. He pushed back the conflicting emotions, the anger at himself and concentrated on what he had to do. “One finger up for yes, two for no. You can do it?”

One finger went up.

“Do you want me to find you a lawyer?” Jeremiah asked.

Two fingers.

“You know the police are here right now, listening in?”

One finger.

“Croc,” Jeremiah said, leaning over the hospital bed and the battered body of a young man he considered-he could no longer deny it-a friend. “Is someone setting you up?” He raised one finger, and Jeremiah asked, “Do you know who?”

This time, Croc managed a shake of the head before his eyes, already heavy, closed and he drifted off.

“I’ll tell Mother and Father.” Deegan Tiernay’s voice shook; the cockiness of the young man who’d tossed his girlfriend in the pool the other night gone. “They need to know.”

Not want to know, Jeremiah noticed. “They haven’t heard from him?”

“Not since they kicked him out. It’s been over two years.” He pushed a shaky hand through his hair. “They won’t like it that I’ve been in touch with him, but they’ll understand-I had no choice-”

“Good heavens,” Mollie said, “I would hope they understand. Of course you had no choice. He’s your brother.”

He smiled wanly at Mollie, without condescension. “I wish it were that simple.”

“Your brother’s in trouble,” Jeremiah said, “but we don’t have the full story yet. We need to reserve judgment.”

“Innocent until proven guilty? That’s not how it works in my family.” But he sucked in a breath before he said too much and turned back to Mollie. “After I talk to them, I’ll head back to Leonardo’s and clear out my stuff-”

“Why? I’m throwing a party tomorrow night. I need your help.”

“But I-”

“But you what? You didn’t tell me you were in contact with your brother?”

“Mollie, he’s a suspect in the attack on you on Friday. He might have made the threatening call on Monday-”

“First things first, Deegan.” Her voice was strong, clear, confident. “Will you tell Griffen, too, or shall I?”

“I’ll tell her,” he said, and retreated, with Frank Sunderland spinning on his toes and following him out.

Mollie touched Jeremiah’s hand. “I’m sorry I jumped on you.”

“I probably would have done the same in your place.”

“Do you want to hang in here awhile?”

He nodded, watching Croc sleep. “I can’t believe the little bastard’s a damned millionaire. Helen Samuel says his Atwood trust is worth a fortune.”

“He’s tapped into it?”

“We don’t know.” He winced at the we. “Damn, I can’t believe I’ve collaborated on a story with her.”

Mollie smiled. “You two are a lot alike.”

“Don’t you start, too. That’s what she keeps telling me. You walked into a hell of a scene, didn’t you?”

“Deegan was sobbing. The cop guarding Croc called your friend Frank.” She was silent a moment, her clear gaze on the broken body in the neat, clean bed. “What do you suppose drove him onto the streets?”

“I don’t know, but he got into Harvard. After that, things seemed to fall apart. Maybe the parents can tell us.”

“Do you think they will?” she asked.

Jeremiah took in a breath. “I’ll find out, one way or the other.”

She curved a hand around the back of his neck, slid her fingers into his hair, and kissed him lightly. “Yes, you will, and not because you’re a reporter.” She dropped her hand, smiled warmly. “You’re also his friend.”

“Mollie.” His voice quaked, but he ignored the knot of fear in his throat. “If the attack on Croc wasn’t a coincidence-if he was set up-then someone’s trying to cover their own tracks.”

She nodded, still steady, although he could see that she’d followed his thinking, perhaps had already reached the same conclusion. “I’m the common denominator, and we still don’t know what it means, if anything. And I was attacked and threatened-” She swallowed visibly, but maintained her composure. “If Croc isn’t the jewel thief, or if the police don’t accept him as the jewel thief, I could be in danger.”

“You could be in danger, period.”

“Well. I guess next time I speak to Leonardo, I’ll tell him he’s not paranoid after all for having such an elaborate security system.”

“You’ll be there?”

“Waiting for you,” she said, and left him alone with Croc, aka Blake Wilder, aka Kermit Tiernay.

Jeremiah leaned over the kid’s sleeping body. “Where the hell your folks get a name like Kermit? No wonder you went off the deep end.”

He pulled up a chair and sat, wondering if Kermit Tienay’s parents would show up.

14

“Your brother’s a derelict and a jewel thief?” Griffen repeated for at least the third time, her stunned rage upon hearing news of Kermit Tiernay no surprise to Mollie. She, Griffen, and Deegan were at Leonardo’s pool, sitting in the shade, oblivious to the bright, hot afternoon sun. Griffen sputtered, still furious. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t know for sure,” Deegan said, remarkably calm under the circumstances. “I only suspected.”

Mollie watched a chameleon scurry into the grass. “We still don’t know your brother’s the thief.”

Neither reacted to her comment. Griffen, straddling a lounge chair, her sundress billowing in front of her, was still beside herself. “This explains why you’ve been acting so weird. You should have called the police, Deegan. They could have picked him up before he did any more damage.”

“Call them with what? I didn’t even know where to find him.” He was on his feet, pacing, the only sign he was affected by the morning’s events. “I did the best I could with what I had.”

Griffen wasn’t mollified. “Well, maybe someone did him a favor by beating the crap out of him. This thing was escalating. I’m glad it’s over.”

Deegan paused a moment, his gaze resting on his lover. “As Mollie said, we don’t know that Kermit is guilty.”

“It’s the most obvious, easiest explanation. So, it’s probably the right explanation. That’s how things work in the real world, even in Palm Beach. Conspiracies are for the movies. Most criminals are idiots. Your brother’s an idiot who got mugged by an idiot.” She leaned back and hoisted up her knees, her bare feet on the chair in front of her. She squinted up at Deegan. “Simple.”

He sighed, threw up his hands, and grinned suddenly, turning to Mollie. “Don’t you love it when she’s on a tear?”

“Go to hell,” Griffen told him.

Mollie shook her head. “I’m not saying a word.”

But all the fight had gone out of Griffen. “So, how’d Mum and Dad take the news their number one’s son’s back in town?”

Deegan’s grin faded. “About like you’d expect.”

“Ah. Flared nostrils and no comment.”