“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.
“Told you he was good,” she said.
“You were right,” Sam said. “The man’s a natural for television.”
At the front of the room, Brandon bestowed a beatific smile on his audience. “Before I sign those books you all bought at the door, I want to introduce you to my own family by choice. My lovely wife, Diana; my son Dawson; my oldest daughter, Abby; and my two younger daughters, Jessica and Laura. I’d like them to come up here now, so that I can tell them in front of this audience how proud I am of each of them and how grateful I am to have the support of such a warm and loving family.”
“This is the worst part,” Abby confided to Sam. She got to her feet. “But it doesn’t last long. See you in a few minutes.”
“I’ll be waiting,” Sam said.
It was just a casual remark, but for some reason Abby suddenly felt a little more cheerful. She pasted on her best professional smile. Under cover of another round of applause, she went down the aisle. By the time she reached the front of the room, the others had already joined her father on the stage. She climbed the three steps and took up a position next to Jessica and Laura. Dawson studiously ignored her.
Jessica leaned closer to Abby. “Mom said you probably wouldn’t show. But I knew you would.”
“Not like I had anything better to do tonight,” Abby whispered back.
Laura and Jessica giggled. Abby smiled. She hadn’t spent much time with the twins. She had been packed off to the Summerlight Academy shortly after they were born. The difference in their ages and the long separation had put a lot of distance into the relationship. Nevertheless, Abby was fond of the pair. For their part, Laura and Jessica treated her like an aunt rather than a sister, but the arrangement worked for all three of them. Abby suspected that the twins secretly admired her because she held the role of the proverbial black sheep of the family.
At the lectern, Brandon clasped Diana’s hand and raised it upward so that their wedding rings glinted in the light. He smiled again, an icon of Perfect Father and Ideal Husband. Abby and the others smiled dutifully and did their best to look like a happy family.
“This is what the modern family by choice looks like, my friends,” Brandon said. “It functions the way family is supposed to function. Sure, there are the occasional conflicts and arguments. Building a family by choice can be hard work. But anything in life that is worthwhile requires hard work. The Radwells have done it, and so can you
.”
Another round of applause swept through the room. Abby and the others kept their smiles fixed in place.
Under cover of the applause, Laura edged closer to Abby.
“Mom and Grandma and Dawson are really pissed at you,” Laura warned.
“I know,” Abby said out of the side of her mouth. “But Dad made it clear that this was one of those command-performance gigs.”
Jessica wrinkled her nose. “Not sure what’s going on, but we think Dawson screwed up big-time. I heard Grandma telling Mom that he’s trying to close a really important deal. She said that you could help him, but you won’t on account of you’re jealous because you didn’t inherit any of her money. Is that true?”
“No,” Abby said. “Not true.”
“Hah.” Jessica looked satisfied. “I knew there was more to it.” She immediately switched subjects. “Who’s the hot new boyfriend?”
“Boyfriend?” Abby repeated blankly.
“The guy you came here with tonight,” Jessica hissed in a low voice. “The one at the back of the room in the leather jacket. Looks a lot more interesting than Kane Thurston.”
Abby followed her gaze and saw Sam. He stood with his arms folded, one shoulder propped against the wall, watching her.
“Oh, him.” Abby pulled herself together. “His name is Sam Coppersmith, and he is definitely a lot more interesting than Kane.”
“Uh–oh,” Jessica said.
Abby looked at her. “Uh–oh what?”
“We heard Dawson talking to Mom about someone named Coppersmith. He said the Coppersmiths have tons of money. They even have a private island in the San Juans.”
Abby was saved from having to respond, because the moderator had moved to the lectern and was announcing that the author would now sign his book and that refreshments were available.
Abby stepped off the stage, followed by Laura, Jessica, Dawson, Diana and Brandon. They ended up in a small cluster.
Brandon looked pleased. He glanced at Diana. “I think that went very well, don’t you?”
Diana smiled, but there was a strained expression in her eyes. “They loved you, dear.”
The event coordinator, a small, spare, middle-aged woman with glasses and neon-red hair, materialized at Brandon’s elbow. She was as focused as an air traffic controller. “I’ll escort you to the table, Dr. Radwell.”
“In a moment, Lucy,” Brandon said. “Family comes first. I want to have a chat with my eldest daughter before I sign books.” He winked. “It’s a father thing.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Abby saw Dawson grimace. Jessica and Laura rolled their eyes.
Lucy did not look happy about that, but she rallied. “In that case, I’ll direct people to the refreshment table until you’re ready.”
“Good idea.” Brandon gave Abby his patented paternal smile. “How about introducing me to the new man in your life, honey?”
A wave of anxiety swept through Abby. On the rare occasions when Brandon chose to play the concerned father, things rarely turned out well.
“Sam is a client,” she said quickly. “There’s nothing personal between us.”
Brandon chuckled just loud enough so that people standing nearby could hear him. “You can’t fool your dad. A father always knows when another man is interested in his little girl. I could tell from the way he walked into the room with you that there is definitely a very personal aspect to your relationship.” He looked around, frowning a little. “Where did he go?”
Sam materialized out of the crowd directly behind Brandon.
“I’m right here, sir,” Sam said. “Sam Coppersmith.”
Brandon turned easily, radiating his charismatic smile, and extended his hand. “Brandon Radwell. A pleasure to meet you. I have a few minutes before I start signing. Why don’t we find a quiet place for a quick chat?”
“Sure,” Sam said. He looked at Abby. “Don’t wander off.”
“We don’t have a lot of time,” Abby said through her teeth. “Dad needs to sign books.”
“This won’t take long,” Brandon said.
The two men walked through the crowd to a quiet corner of the room. Abby watched, deeply uneasy. When she turned back, she realized that Dawson had vanished.
“Done,” Laura said, relief evident in her voice. “Jessica and I get to leave now, right, Mom? You said we only had to stay for the perfect family scene.”
“Yes, you can go,” Diana said. She looked at Abby. “I want to talk to you.”
“I’m afraid I’m a little busy this evening,” Abby said. “I’ve got plans.”
“After all I’ve done for you,” Diana said, her voice low and hard, “and after all I put up with over the years, the least you can do is give me a few minutes of your precious time.”
Abby sighed. “I knew I shouldn’t have come here tonight.”
29
BRANDON SWITCHED OFF THE ENGAGING SMILE AND SLIPPED into concerned-father mode with effortless ease. The serious expression was just right, Sam thought. It consisted of a slightly furrowed brow, faintly narrowed eyes and a dash of paternal concern.
“My daughter tells me that you’re one of her clients,” Brandon said.
“Our relationship is complicated,” Sam said.
One of Brandon’s brows edged upward. “Aren’t they all?”
“Good point.”
Sam watched Abby and Diana disappear into a hallway. From where he stood, he could see that the corridor was lined with twin rows of offices. One of the doors was ajar. Abby and Diana went into the room. The lights came on. The door closed. Not good, Sam thought. But Abby had been dealing with her stepmother for a long time now. She could handle whatever was going down inside the office.
“How did the two of you meet?” Brandon asked.
“Through one of Abby’s business connections,” Sam said.
“She is in a rather unusual line of work.”
“Antiquarian books that are associated with the paranormal. Yes, I know.”
Brandon cleared his throat. “You collect those kinds of books?”
“I’ve got a few.”
“I see. Has she told you that she doesn’t just deal in books about magic, she actually believes in the occult?”
Annoyed, Sam jerked his gaze away from the closed office door. “Abby doesn’t believe in the occult. Where the hell did you get that idea?”
“I don’t know what my daughter has told you, but you need to know that she holds some weird theories.”
“She believes in the existence of paranormal energy, not the occult.”
“There’s a difference?” Brandon asked drily.
“The occult is all about witchcraft, demons and magic,” Sam said, impatient now. “Paranormal energy, on the other hand, is just that, energy. There’s no magic, black or white, involved. Although there are a lot of fake psychics, mediums and dream analysts out there making a good living off the gullible.”
Brandon’s frown turned into a scowl. “Don’t tell me you’re into this paranormal crap, too?”
“I’m surprised to hear you say that, Dr. Radwell. You’re in the psychobabble business. Surely you are aware that shared interests form the best basis for an enduring relationship.”
Brandon’s expression sharpened. “You read my book on marriage?”
“No. Just took a flying leap in the dark.”
“Stop with the bullshit, Coppersmith. We both know why you’re dating my daughter.”
“We do?”
“You found out she’s connected to the Strickland family, didn’t you? You’re not the first man to try to marry her for her inheritance. But there isn’t one. The old bitch, better known as Orinda Strickland, controls the family money. Take it from me, she has gone to great legal lengths to make sure that Abby won’t receive a dime. It all goes to my wife, and Dawson and the twins.”
“I heard she cut you out, too.”
Brandon snorted in disgust. “Prenup. And I was dumb enough to sign the pa
pers. Thought that after the old bitch died, Diana would change her mind and tear up the agreement.”
“But?”
“But at the rate she’s going, Orinda may outlive me, and I’ve had it with the waiting game. Time to move on.” Brandon glanced across the room. “Lucy is signaling. Got to go sign some books. Just remember what I told you. Abby has no blood connection to the old bitch. In fact, Orinda is downright embarrassed that Abby is considered a member of the family. That translates into no inheritance.”