A Will and a Way

the lack of locks. If the vandal had been one of the family—and she had to agree with Michael’s conclusion there—a noisy, official investigation would give the break-in too much importance and undoubtedly too much publicity.
    Yes, the press would have a field day. Pandora had already imagined the headlines. “Family vs. family in the battle of eccentric’s will.” There was, under her independent and straightforward nature, a prim part of her that felt family business was private business.
    If one or more of the members of the family were keeping an eye on Jolley’s Folley and the goings-on there, Pandora wanted them to think that she’d brushed off the vandalism as petty and foolish. As a matter of pride, she didn’t want anyoneto believe she’d been dealt a stunning blow. As a matter of practicality, she didn’t want anyone to know that she had her eyes open. She was determined to find out who had broken into her shop and how they’d managed to pick such a perfect time for it.
    Michael hadn’t insisted on calling the police because his thoughts had run along the same lines as Pandora’s. He’d managed, through a lot of maneuvering and silence, to keep his career totally separate from his family. In his business, he was known as Michael Donahue, award-winning writer, not Michael Donahue, relative of Jolley McVie, multimillionaire. He wanted to keep it that way.
    Stubbornly, each had refused to tell the other of their reasons or their plans for some personal detective work. It wasn’t so much a matter of trust, but more the fact that neither of them felt the other could do the job competently. So instead, they kept the conversation light through one of Sweeney’s four-star meals and let the vandalism rest. More important, they carefully avoided any reference that might trigger some remark about what had happened on a more personal level in Pandora’s workshop.
    After two glasses of wine and a generous portion of chicken fricassee, Pandora felt more optimistic. It would have been much worse if any of her stock or tools had been taken. That would have meant a trip into Manhattan and days, perhaps weeks of delay. As it was, the worst crime that she could see was the fact that she’d been spied on. Surely that was the only explanation for the break-in coinciding so perfectly with her trip to town. And that would be her first order of business.
    “I wonder,” Pandora began, probing lightly, “if the Saundersons are in residence for the winter.”
    “The neighbors with the pond.” Michael had thought of the Saunderson place himself. There were certain points on that property where, with a good set of binoculars, someone could watch the Folley easily. “They spend a lot of time in Europe, don’t they?”
    “Hmm.” Pandora toyed with her chicken. “He’s in hotels, you know. They tend to pop off here or there for weeks at a time.”
    “Do they ever rent the place out?”
    “Oh, not that I know of. I’m under the impression that they leave a skeleton staff there even when they fly off. Now that I think of it, they were home a few months ago.” The memory made her smile. “Uncle Jolley and I went fishing and Saunderson nearly caught us. If we hadn’t scrambled back to the cabin—” She broke off as the thought formed.
    “Cabin.” Michael picked up where she’d left off. “That old two-room wreck Jolley was going to use as a hunting lodge during his eat-off-the-land stage? I’d forgotten all about it.”
    Pandora shrugged as though it meant nothing while her mind raced ahead. “He ended up eating more beans than game. In any case, we caught a bundle of trout, ate like pigs and sent the rest along to Saunderson. He never sent a thank-you note.”
    “Poor manners.”
    “Well, I’ve heard his grandmother was a barmaid in Chelsea. More wine?”
    “No, thanks.” He thought it best to keep a clear head if hewas going to carry out the plans that were just beginning to form. “Help yourself.”
    Pandora set the bottle down and sent him a sweet smile. “No, I’m fine. Just a bit tired really.”
    “You’re entitled.” It would clear his path beautifully if he could ship her off to bed early. “What you need is a good night’s sleep.”
    “I’m sure you’re right.” Both of them were too involved with their own moves to notice how excruciatingly polite the conversation had become. “I’ll just skip coffee tonight and go have a bath.” She feigned a little yawn. “What