'Positive.' Rafe started the Acer and backed out of the trees toward the highway. 'Whoever he was, he must have been following us since we left your folks' house.'
'He couldn't have known that we would stop here.'
'No, but when he saw us pull off the road he probably figured he had a golden opportunity.'
'To kill you? But who would want to do that? Dr. Austen was the only killer we've come across recently and he's dead.'
'There's still the little matter of the missing relic,' Rafe pointed out.
'But we don't know where it is.'
'Someone may be worried that we're still searching for it.'
She mulled that over for a moment. 'I don't know. Even if we assume that there is someone else involved in this thing besides Austen, why would he or she consider you a threat? With Austen's death, the trail has gone cold.'
'Not quite.' Rafe glanced over his shoulder and then pulled out onto the highway. 'Just before that guy took a shot at me, I had what you might call a small epiphany.'
'An epiphany? While using the facilities?'
'While taking a leak against a tree, to be precise.'
She grimaced. 'What is it with men and trees, anyway?'
'It's a guy thing. You wouldn't understand. As I was saying, I suddenly recalled something we saw the night we went through Austen's office.'
'What?'
'On the back of Theo Willis's chart there was a small sticky note, remember?'
'Sure. You said it looked as if the receptionist had jotted it down to remind herself to send a thank-you note for the referral.'
'I think,' Rafe said, 'that it would be very interesting to find out who referred Theo Willis to Dr. Austen.'
'Maybe,' she said slowly.
'You sound unconvinced.'
'I hate to say this, but I think you're reaching a bit here. We have nothing to indicate that there was anyone else besides Quentin Austen involved with the missing relic. But we can say, with some certainty, that there are a couple of other people who might take a potshot at you if they got the chance.'
He raised his brows. 'Such as?'
'Your cousin Selby.'
Rafe looked briefly intrigued. 'I hadn't thought of that.'
'He's got a lot to lose if you take over Stonebraker Shipping.'
'When, not if.'
'I beg your pardon. When you take over Stonebraker. And there's someone else you have recently pissed-off, too, don't forget.'
He frowned. 'Who?'
'Preston Luce.'
'Luce? Five hells, I cut off his funding, not his balls.'
'With Preston, it probably amounts to the same thing. Grant funding is his raison d'etre. Obtaining money for research projects is what he does. It's what gives him clout at the institute. If he can no longer play rainmaker, he won't last long. As a pure research analyst, he's a bust.'
'I see what you mean.'
'Let's face it, Rafe. When you get right down to it, you are not the most popular man in the city-state.'
'Okay by me,' he said cheerfully. 'I don't care what everyone else thinks as long as you'll still sleep with me.'
Chapter 18
'Yes, Mom. We got back to the city yesterday at about two o'clock. We, uh, stopped for a bite along the way.' Carrying the phone in one hand, Orchid paced back and forth across the small living room. She had told her parents nothing about the incident on the highway. The information would only alarm them and there was nothing they could do about it. 'Just wanted to let you know that everything's fine on this end.'
'The wedding was lovely, wasn't it?'
'Beautiful. Veronica and Terrence were meant for each other.'
'That,' Anna said meaningfully, 'is just what their marriage counselors said.'
Orchid raised her eyes to the ceiling. 'I know.'
'Still no word from your agency?'
'No.' Orchid suppressed a flash of guilt. She had not yet informed her parents that Affinity Associates had lost her file. She paused beside her desk, picked up a pen, and dutifully jotted herself a note.
Call Affinity Associates. Find out what happened to my file.
'I must say, your Mr. Stonebraker was very interesting.'
'Yes, he is that.' Interesting. Orchid winced. Rafe was a lot more than interesting.
She picked up the note she had just written to herself, crumpled it in her fist, and tossed it into the waste can.
'Mom, I know this is going to sound like a dumb question, but do you, by any chance, happen to know what kind of car Preston drives?'
'I'm not sure what type it is. I don't pay much attention to cars. But as I recall, it's white.'
White. Like a white Phase 1000? Orchid wondered. She sat down heavily in her chair. 'Does Dad know?'
'I don't know. Why?'
'Oh, nothing. I just thought I saw Preston pass us on the highway on the way back to the city. I wondered if he had left Northville because of what happened between him and Rafe.'
'I don't know if he's still here or not. I'll ask your father when I see him later today. About Mr. Stonebraker —'
'I'm sorry, Mom. I've really got to run. Love you. 'Bye.'
Orchid hung up the phone before her mother could continue the gentle cross-examination.
She sprawled in her chair and thought about the fact that Preston Luce's car was very likely white. White was an extremely common color in cars, especially in Northville, she reminded herself. It was so very meta-zen- syn.
The low, resonant bong of her front doorbell roused her from her state of intense brooding. On the off chance that it would be Rafe with news of his investigation into the white car and maybe some take-out pasta, she got to her feet.
When she reached the door she automatically started to open it. But the events of the previous few days had taken their toll. She paused long enough to peer through the peephole. She stifled a small groan when she saw Briana Culverthorpe standing in the hallway.
Taking a deep breath, she pasted what she hoped was a pleasant smile on her face and opened the door. 'Hello, Mrs. Culverthorpe. What brings you here?'
'I should have telephoned first.' Briana did not smile. 'But I happened to be driving past your apartment and I thought I'd take a chance on your being home.'
'Why?'
'I'd like to speak with you.' Briana glanced past Orchid into the tiny entrance hall of the small apartment. 'May I come in?'
'Yes, of course.' Orchid stepped back.
Briana was the same patrician woman Orchid had met briefly on the night of Alfred G. Stonebraker's birthday. Her pale hair framed her attractive face in two elegantly curved wings. The beautifully tailored suit she wore was a pale, pastel blue.
