Copper Beach

“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 papers. Thought that after the old