Newton, napping beside Abby’s chair, stirred, raised his head, and focused on Elias.

“Maybe.” Abby pushed herself away from the glowing computer screen and got to her feet. “But if you keep interrupting me every five minutes, it will take me forever to follow up on them.”

Elias beetled his brows. “I thought I made it clear, we don’t have a lot of time. You need to find Milton before he holds that auction. I don’t want to take the risk of losing that damn lab book.”

“I’m doing my best, Mr. Coppersmith. But in the meantime, I’ve assured Milton that we will top any bid, and he has agreed to give us that option.”

“If Lander Knox gets to him first, there won’t be an auction. He’ll murder the dealer the way he did Webber and take the notebook.”

“I realize that we’re in a time crunch here. Which is why I would prefer to work without someone looking over my shoulder. But since you have interrupted me, I’m going to the kitchen to get some coffee.”

She walked toward Elias. Newton sprang to his feet and padded after her. Faced with the oncoming woman and dog, Elias reluctantly fell back into the hall. Abby slipped past him, Newton at her heels, and headed for the kitchen. Elias stalked after them.

“What did you mean by ‘maybe’?” he demanded.

“I meant maybe, as in maybe I have a couple of leads.” Abby walked into the kitchen. “You need to understand that I don’t usually work with dealers like Milton. I know how to contact him, thanks to Thaddeus and my friend Nick, but I don’t know anything else about him.”

“Thaddeus is gone, but what about this Nick you mentioned? Does he deal with Milton?”

“Yes, but I can’t ask him for more information.”

“Why not?”

“Because currently he’s my competition. He’s after the lab book, too. Knowing Nick, by now he’ll have lined up a client.”

“Knox.”

“It’s possible, but I think it’s unlikely,” Abby said.

“Why?”

“The clients in the deep end are more dangerous than the ones I usually work with, but Nick is not stupid. He takes precautions. Lander Knox is an unknown in the underground market. He’s not a regular collector. Nick wouldn’t want to take him on as a client, especially if he’s got options.”

“Hah. Options like Hank Barrett or his son.”

“The owners of Helicon Stone?” Abby picked up the coffeepot. “That’s a much more likely possibility. Can I pour you a cup?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“You’re so very welcome,” she murmured, going for excruciatingly gracious.

Elias was oblivious to the sarcasm. He started to pace the kitchen. “Maybe I’ve been too focused on Lander Knox. No question that he’s after the lab book. But if Hank Barrett has heard the rumors, he or his son will be trying to find it as well. They might be a bigger problem than Knox, if for no other reason than that they have the money to pay top dollar.”

Abby handed him a full mug as he stomped past her. “There are other problems with auctions like this. I think that Milton is reliable, but we have to allow for the possibility that the book he is going to auction off is a forgery.”

Elias’s face worked in outrage. “Are you telling me that someone might try to pass off a fake?”

“A shocking notion, isn’t it?” Abby smiled wryly. “I regret to tell you that forgeries are actually quite common in the rare-book business.”

“If someone thinks he can scam me, he’d better start running now.”

“Mmm.”

“What?” Elias stopped to glare at her. “You don’t think I know how to deal with con men and scammers?”

“I’m sure you would be a very dangerous man to cross, Mr. Coppersmith,” she said politely.

Elias finally appeared to notice that he was missing something in the conversation.

“Are you laughing at me?” he said with a growl.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. As I told your wife, I accept the fact that tolerating difficult, eccentric, obsessive clients is a necessary aspect of my work, but I should warn you that I have some limits.”

For a couple seconds, Elias looked bewildered. Then comprehension lit his fierce eyes. “Are you calling me difficult, eccentric and obsessive?”

Sam appeared in the doorway. “Take it easy, Dad. You get used to her after a while.” He looked at Abby. “Bill, the lawyer, tracked down the name and address of the psychiatric hospital where Grady Hastings is undergoing observation. We have to go into Seattle tonight for your father’s book-launch event. We’ll stay the night at your place and interview Hastings first thing in the morning.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Abby said.

“Any coffee left?”

“Yep,” Abby said. She picked up the pot.

Elias rounded on Sam. “She thinks we’re both wackos.”

“I never said anything of the kind.” Abby frowned. “If I thought you were both out-and-out crazies, I would not have taken you on as clients. And I definitely would not have hired Sam to protect me.”

“What’s the difference between Sam and me and a couple of crazies?” Elias roared.

Abby nearly choked on her laughter. She looked at Sam and knew that he was having a hard time biting back a grin. She cleared her throat.

“An interesting question,” she said. She turned around to pour the coffee. “Let’s just say I know it when I see it.”

“Are you sure you got the right Abigail Radwell?” Elias asked Sam.

“Oh, yeah,” Sam said, with deep feeling. “No way there could be two of them, trust me.”

The wicked, intimate certainty in his words thrilled Abby’s senses. The pot in her hand trembled ever so slightly when she poured the coffee.

“I don’t get it,” Elias grumbled. “If you think Sam and I are such difficult clients, why did you agree to work for us?”

“You and your son certainly top my personal list of demanding clients,” Abby said. She put the pot back on the burner and turned around to face the men. “Furthermore, I am convinced that either one of you would cheerfully commit murder if you felt the circumstances warranted it.”

“What circumstances?” Elias thundered.

“If you thought it was necessary to protect someone in your family, for example,” Abby said.

“Hell, yes,” Elias said.

“Sure,” Sam said. “So what?”

“I like that in a man,” Abby said.

28

“…TO SUMMARIZE, THE MODERN SO–CALLED BLENDED FAMILY, the family by choice, is nothing new.” Dr. Brandon C. Radwell surveyed his audience from the lectern. “There have always been families consisting of children and adults who are related not necessarily by blood but by a complex web of social connections. The major difference today is that while old-fashioned blended families came into existence out of necessity, today’s blended families are formed by deliberate choices of the individuals involved.”

“The adult individuals involved,” Abby whispered to Sam. “The kids rarely have any say in the matter. It’s Mom and Dad who decide to get divorced and start over with another spouse.”

“Take it easy,” Sam said. He patted her knee.

A couple of heads turned to glare at Abby. Someone shushed her.

Abby glanced at her watch. Not much longer, she thought, relieved.

The small auditorium was full. She and Sam were seated in the last row. From her position, she could see her stepmother, Diana; the twins, Jessica and Laura; and Dawson in the front row. The room was packed with her father’s adoring fans. Each one clutched a copy of Families by Choice. A video crew was busy filming the scene.

Her father might be a serial monogamist, Abby thought, but he did have a way with a crowd. No wonder his publisher was delighted to send him out on tour. The man could sell books. With his good looks, charisma and a knack for the thirty-second sound bite, he was the ideal talk-show guest.

A burst of applause went up from the audience. Abby clapped dutifully and leaned closer to Sam.