She whisked herself off in the direction of the coffee machine.
Sam opened the door and walked into the diner. Every head in the room swiveled in his direction. There were several rounds of cheerful greetings. Sam responded to the friendly gauntlet with the easy familiarity of someone who knows everyone in the room.
He made his way to the booth where Abby sat alone with her coffee, and lowered himself down onto the vinyl seat on the other side of the table.
Brenda materialized instantly, a thick mug and a pot of coffee in her hands.
“Morning, Sam,” she said, her cheeks pink with excitement. “Coffee?”
“Yes, thanks, Brenda. How’s your grandmother? Heard she was having some problems.”
“She went to see that specialist in Seattle, like your mom suggested. They ran some tests, and he put her on some new meds. They seem to be working. Her blood pressure is under control again.”
“Good. Glad to hear it.”
Brenda poured the coffee and gave him a dazzling smile. “Can I get you anything else?”
“No, coffee is fine for now. We’re waiting for my folks. Dixon is bringing them over from Anacortes. Should be here in a few minutes.”
“It’ll be nice to see them again,” Brenda said.
She went back behind the counter and started to pour coffee.
The background noise of conversation that had faded for a bit returned in full force. Sam raised his mug to swallow some coffee. He stopped when he saw that Abby was looking at him.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
“No,” Abby said.
“Okay.” Sam shrugged and took a sip.
Abby glared. “Don’t be dense. Do you realize that everyone in this diner, probably everyone in town, assumes that we’re involved in a relationship?”
Sam struggled with that question for a few seconds and then gave up. “We areinvolved in a relationship.”
“Maybe, but it’s complicated.” She tipped her head slightly, to indicate the crowded restaurant. “Your neighbors here don’t understand the nuances. They think we’re in a more personal relationship.”
“Yeah.” Sam drank some more and lowered the mug. He smiled. “That, too.”
She leaned forward. “I’m concerned that there will be some widespread misunderstanding here, Coppersmith. This is your home, not mine. What about the gossip?”
“What about it? This is a small town and a small island. Gossip is the lifeblood of the community.”
“You’re not taking this seriously, are you?”
“What do you want me to do? Stand up and announce that we’re sleeping together but that we’re not involved in a personal relationship?”
She sat back and drummed her fingers on the table. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Relax. You don’t care what anyone around here thinks. Once this situation is finished, you’ll never see any of these people again, right?”
She did another staccato drumroll and narrowed her eyes. “Right.”
“Good. Glad we got that sorted out.”
She gave him a steely smile. “Like my dad says in his book on modern marriage, communication is the key to a good relationship.”
“Absolutely. Here comes Dixon’s water taxi.” Sam put down his mug, got to his feet and pulled some money out of his wallet. He dropped the bills on the table. “Time for you to meet the parents.”
Abby slipped out from the booth and collected her tote. She walked side by side with Sam, past the curious stares and polite farewells.
Brenda waved a casual good-bye. Abby wiggled her fingers in response. Outside, on the sidewalk, Newton greeted her in his customary over-the-top style. She freed him from the post and wrapped the end of his leash around her wrist.
They walked along Bay Street and watched the water taxi ease into the dock. There were only two passengers on board. The resemblance between Sam and the broad-shouldered, silver-haired man was unmistakable. Same fiercely etched features, same fiercely determined eyes, Abby thought. It was not all that hard to imagine Elias Coppersmith surviving a murder attempt and escaping an underground explosion with a cache of dangerous paranormal crystals. Not so hard to envision a man like this going on to found an empire like Coppersmith Inc., either.
A trim, attractive woman with discreetly tinted blond hair stood beside Elias Coppersmith. Her hands were thrust deep into the pockets of her jacket.
Abby looked at Sam. “Are both of your parents strong talents?”
“Dad definitely has some serious sensitivity for the latent energy in crystals. But he isn’t nearly as strong as Judson and Emma and me. He can’t run a little psi through any of the stones the way we can, for example.”
“What about your mother?”
“I’d say Mom has above-average intuition, but what mother doesn’t? And she runs the Coppersmith Foundation like a forensic accountant. But I don’t think her ability could be described as psychic. She’s just very, very good when it comes to following the money.”
“So where did you and your brother and sister get your talent for crystals?”
“Dad says it must have come from farther back on the family tree. Coppersmiths have been involved in mining of one kind or another for generations.”
“Sounds like you don’t buy that explanation.”
“Let’s just say that Judson and Emma and I have our own theory. We worked it out a few years ago, but we never told Mom or Dad, because we didn’t want to upset them.”
“Good grief. Surely you don’t think you aren’t your father’s offspring. You’ve got your father’s eyes, his bone structure…”
Sam grinned. “Not that kind of theory. But forty years ago, when that explosion occurred in the Phoenix, there was a hell of a lot of paranormal radiation released. We know that Dad and Knox must have caught a lot of it.”
“Oh, my gosh.” Abby felt her mouth fall open. She got it closed with an effort. “Are you telling me that you believe that the fallout from the explosion caused some kind of genetic mutation that manifested in you and your brother and sister?”
“Genetics are extremely complicated, even when you’re dealing with the normal kind. We don’t know much at all about the paranormal aspects.”
“True.”
“Promise me you won’t say anything to Mom or Dad about the theory. Emma says they wouldn’t handle it well.”
“Okay,” Abby said.
Sam went along the dock and grabbed the line that Dixon tossed to him. Then he caught the second one. He secured the water taxi with a few efficient, expert moves, straightened and took his mother’s hand. Willow Coppersmith stepped lightly onto the dock. She gave Sam a quick maternal kiss, and then she turned to Abby with a warm smile.
“You must be Abby,” she said.
Abby smiled. “Yes.”
She started to put out her hand, but Elias bounded out of the bobbing water taxi, interrupting the polite greeting. He gave her a head–to–toe survey. Then he grinned, cold satisfaction glittering in his eyes.
“You got her.”He clapped Sam on the shoulder. “Nice work, son. If she’s half as good as Webber thought she was, we’re going to get that damn book at last.”
Abby gave him her best professional smile, the one she reserved for the most eccentric clients. “Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Coppersmith.”
26
“YOU’LL HAVE TO FORGIVE MY HUSBAND,” WILLOW COPPERSMITH said. “Well, actually, you don’t have to forgive him for acting as if you’re just a useful employee that he can manipulate for his own purposes. But there is an explanation for his rudeness.”
“I understand,” Abby said.
They were sitting in the living room of the house that Sam’s parents had built for themselves. It was not only much newer, it was a lot cozier and warmer than the old house. The modern, two-story windows provided a spectacular view of the water and far more natural light than those in the old stone house.
“To be honest, I thought Elias had abandoned the search for that old notebook,” Willow said. “Maybe it would be more accurate to say that I hoped he had given up on it. But after he got the call from his old partner, Quinn Knox, he became obsessed with finding it all over again.”