“Thanks, but I can’t take the job.”
“This is about the past, isn’t it?” Dawson’s face reddened with anger and frustration. “About the fact that your father married my mother for her money and found out too late that my grandmother had it locked up in a trust.”
“Believe it or not, this is not about the past.”
“It is all about the past and the money. Don’t you get that? Grandmother saw through your father right away, but Mom wouldn’t listen.”
Newton had stopped growling. More than ever, he resembled a scaled-down version of a junkyard dog. He looked remarkably dangerous. There was a little wolf in every dog, Sam thought. People who forgot that sometimes had nasty encounters with teeth.
“It’s all right,” Abby said to Newton. She stooped and touched him lightly with her hand. “It’s okay.”
Newton did not take his focus off Dawson.
“Whatever happened in the past isn’t important here,” Abby said. “Everyone has moved on, including me. We’re the perfect blended family now, remember?”
“Bullshit.”
Her mouth curved slightly. “True. But family is family.”
“This isn’t funny,” Dawson said tightly. “You’ve had it in for me from the start because Grandmother made sure you and your father would never get a dime of her money.”
“I don’t suppose it will do any good to tell you that I never cared about the money,” Abby said.
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s always about the money,” Dawson said. Bitterness edged his mouth. “And right now you’re letting the past get in the way of both of us making a hell of a lot of it. Want some brotherly advice? Grow up and get over it.”
“I repeat, this isn’t about the past.” Abby locked her arms beneath her breasts. “It’s about you getting involved in something you know nothing about.”
“I realize I don’t know anything about rare books,” Dawson said, exasperated. “That’s why I’m here. What I know is that I need this investor and you’re the only one who can get him for me.” He closed one hand into a fist. “Name your price, damn it.”
“No,” Abby said.
Dawson’s jaw twitched. “You know, don’t you?”
“Know what?” Abby said.
“You know that my firm is in trouble.”
She frowned. “No, I wasn’t aware of that.”
“I took a real hit a couple of months ago when a major project, a sure thing, went south. It was a Ponzi scheme, and I fell for it. My clients don’t know about the losses yet. I can juggle the numbers for a few months while I recover. But the only way I can dig myself out of this hole is with new capital. I have to close the deal with this investor. If I don’t, I’ll go under.”
“Oh, damn,” Abby whispered, shocked.
“Lawsuits will be the least of it. You think some of your clients are dangerous? I’ve got a couple who will go to the Feds. I could wind up in prison.”
“I’m sorry,” Abby said. Her tone was surprisingly gentle. “But you can recover. You’re good at investing.”
“Abby, I’m standing on the brink of bankruptcy and maybe looking at jail time. I need to land this account.”
“I’m sorry,” Abby repeated. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”
“Why not?”
Sam picked up his coffee. “For one thing, she’s already got another client for that lab book.”
Dawson swung around, jaw working. “You?”
“Me,” Sam said.
Dawson pulled himself together immediately. “I’ll buy the book from you. Just name your price.”
“I don’t have the book yet,” Sam said. “If and when I do get it, I won’t be selling it.”
Dawson turned back to Abby. “This is your idea of revenge, isn’t it?”
“No,” she said. “I swear it’s not.”
“I hope you enjoy it.” Dawson slammed the briefcase shut, picked it up and went down the hall.
The door closed behind him.
“Excuse me,” Abby said.
She rushed out of the kitchen and disappeared into the bedroom. Newton hurried after her.
Sam got up and followed the pair, not sure what he should say or do. It was clear that Abby was accustomed to handling her problems all by herself or with the help of her close-knit circle of friends. But he happened to be the one who was here today.
He walked into the bedroom. Abby was sitting on the edge of the bed, clutching a tissue. She was not crying. She had one hand on Newton, who had his front paws propped on the bed beside her.
“Please go away,” she said, a little too politely. “I’ll be fine.”
Sam went to the bed. He pulled her to her feet and into his arms.
“We’re a team now,” he said. “That means you’re stuck with me.”
She pressed her face into his shoulder and sobbed.
16
AFTER A WHILE SHE REALIZED THAT THE HUMILIATING BOUT of visible weakness was finally over. She stopped crying. The temptation to stay where she was, wrapped warm and tight in Sam’s arms, was almost overwhelming. It took everything she had to push herself away from him.
“This is so embarrassing,” she said. She stepped back and managed a shaky, rueful smile. “Sorry about the drama. Sorry about your shirt, too.”
He glanced down at the damp spot. “It’ll dry.”
“I’m okay now. Just lost it there for a while.” She grabbed another tissue and blew her nose. “I haven’t been sleeping well lately, and now there’s the blackmail thing and that stupid lab notebook and Dawson facing bankruptcy and…and last night.”
“I thought last night went well,” he said neutrally. “It certainly did for me.”
“I didn’t mean that. Not exactly.” Utterly mortified now, she tossed the tissue into the little wastebasket and rushed past him toward the bathroom. “Never mind. Give me a few minutes to wash my face.”
“Sure,” he said.
She fled into the bathroom, closed the door and turned on the cold water. She winced when she saw her tear-swollen face in the mirror. She was not one of those women who cried in an attractive way. But, then, it wasn’t as if she’d had a lot of experience. She rarely cried these days, and when she did, she made certain that she was always alone.
It was the stress. She’d been under a lot of it lately. She had to get a grip.
She leaned over the sink and splashed the cold water on her face for a couple of minutes, then turned off the faucet and grabbed a towel. When her face was dry, she took another critical look at the wan features of the woman in the mirror. Show no weakness. She reached for a lipstick and a compact.
A short time later, feeling back in control, she went into the front room. Sam was standing at the window, looking out over the rain-dampened city. He turned around when he sensed her approach.
“You can’t stay here,” he said. “Not now.”
She stopped in the middle of the room. “What?”
“There are too many people after that book, and a lot of them have decided you can get it for them. I’m going to take you to a different location, one that is more secure. You’ll be safe there, while I look for the blackmailer.”
“What on earth are you talking about? I can’t just disappear.”
He smiled. “Sure you can. You’ll see.”
“What are you proposing to do with me? Stash me in a hotel room under a different name?”
“No. I’m going to take you to the Copper Beach house. I’ve got good security there. In addition, strangers stand out like sore thumbs on the island. It’s hard to get ashore without being noticed.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Horrified, she held up both hands, palms out, and waved him to silence. “Thanks but no thanks. I appreciate the thought, but that is not going to work.”