“You obviously know how to make commitments. You’re certainly committed to keeping the secret of the Phoenix stones.”
“So?” He ate the bite of French toast.
“What happened with Cassidy? You said yourself that the two of you were very involved, to the point where many people assumed that you were either engaged or about to be engaged.”
Sam lounged back in his chair and stretched his legs out under the table. “The answer is that I did consider marriage for a time. Everything about the relationship with Cassidy seemed perfect, maybe a little too perfect. But something was missing. I kept waiting for the click, you know?”
“The click?”
“The sense that this is the one. I never got it with Cassidy. All I can tell you is that while I was away on that last job with the private contractor, I came to the conclusion that it was time to end things with her.”
“Instead, you came home to find her body in the lab.” Sudden comprehension flashed through Abby. “That’s when you made your real commitment to her. You committed yourself to finding her killer.”
“She wouldn’t have died if she hadn’t been dating me,” Sam said. “It was our relationship that put her in harm’s way. I’ve known that since the night she was murdered.”
“But if she seduced you and set you up for the theft of the stones…”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m the one who asked her out on that first date at the gem-and-mineral show. I’m the one who introduced her to Frye. And I’m the one who continued to date her, even after she was hired.”
“I understand.”
Sam watched her for a long moment.
“Yes,” he said. “I can see that you do. You’re the only one who does. I’ll get some more coffee.”
He went to the counter and picked up the pot. He used his freehand to toss a slice of cooled French toast in Newton’s general direction. Newton made an agile leap and snatched the toast out of midair.
Abby’s phone chimed. She picked it up and glanced at the unfamiliar number.
“I can’t imagine who this could be,” she said.
She stabbed the connect key.
“Yes?” she said.
“Abigail? Is that you?”
Orinda Strickland spoke in the same clipped, cold, supercilious manner that had frightened the thirteen-year-old Abby. Orinda was no less daunting now that she was in her eighties, but there was a faint rasp that betrayed her age and something else. It took Abby a few seconds to find the right word.Panic.It was Orinda who was terrified today, and trying desperately to conceal it.
Abby took a deep breath and silently repeated her mantra.Show no weakness.
“Mrs. Strickland. What a surprise. I didn’t know you had this number.”
“I got it from Dawson.”
“I see. Did someone die?”
“That is not amusing.”
“It wasn’t meant to be. I just can’t imagine any other reason why you would want to get in touch with me.”
“Nonsense,” Orinda snapped. “You’re family. Why wouldn’t I want to keep in touch?”
“I knew it.” Abigail slumped against the back of her chair and contemplated the woods outside the window. Newton came to sit beside her. She put a hand on his head. “This is about Dawson and that investor he’s trying to land.”
“Dawson told me that he talked to you about finding some old book that he needs to close the deal. He said you refused to help him.”
“It’s not that simple, Mrs. Strickland.”
