A Will and a Way

have to drive steady and follow the signs. If Jolley didn’t think we could follow the signs, he wouldn’t have given us the keys.”
    It helped to look at it that way. Still it was odd to consider she was riding on an elevator she would own when the six months were up. “Do we know whom to go to?” Pandora glanced at the box Michael held, which contained the bottle of champagne.
    “A man named Silas Lockworth seems to be in charge.”
    “You did your homework.”
    “Let’s hope it pays off.”
    When the elevator stopped, they walked into the reception area for Sanfield Laboratories. The carpet was pale rose, the walls lacquered in cream. Two huge split-leaf philodendrons flanked the wide glass doors that slid open at their approach. A woman behind a gleaming desk folded her hands and smiled.
    “Good morning. May I help you?”
    Michael glanced at the computer terminal resting on an extension of her desk. Top of the line. “We’d like to see Mr. Lockworth.”
    “Mr. Lockworth’s in a meeting. If I could have your names, perhaps his assistant can help you.”
    “I’m Michael Donahue. This is Pandora McVie.”
    “McVie?”
    Pandora saw the receptionist’s eyebrows raise. “Yes, Maximillian McVie was our uncle.”
    Already polite and efficient, the receptionist became gracious. “I’m sure Mr. Lockworth would have greeted you himself if we’d known you were coming. Please have a seat. I’ll ring through.”
    It took under five minutes.
    The man who strode out into reception didn’t look like Pandora’s conception of a technician or scientist. He was six-three, lean as a gymnast with blond hair brushed back from a tanned, lantern-jawed face. He looked, Pandora thought, more like a man who’d be at home on the range than in a lab with test tubes.
    “Ms. McVie.” He walked with an easy rolling gait, hand outstretched. “Mr. Donahue. I’m Silas Lockworth. Your uncle was a good friend.”
    “Thank you.” Michael accepted the handshake. “I apologize for dropping in unannounced.”
    “No need for that.” Lockworth’s smile seemed to mean it. “We never knew when Jolley was going to drop in on us. Let’s go back to my office.”
    He led them down the corridor. Lockworth’s office was the next surprise. It was plush enough, with curvy chairs and clever lithographs, to make you think of a corporate executive. The desk was piled high with enough files and papers to make you think of a harried clerk. It carried the scent fromthe dozens of leather-bound books on a floor-to-ceiling shelf. Built into one wall was a round aquarium teeming with exotic fish.
    “Would you like coffee? I can guarantee it’s hot and strong.”
    “No.” Pandora was already twisting her gloves in her hands. “Thank you. We don’t want to take too much of your time.”
    “It’s my pleasure,” Lockworth assured her. “Jolley certainly spoke often of both of you,” Lockworth went on as he gestured to chairs. “There was never a doubt you were his favorites.”
    “And he was ours,” Pandora returned.
    “Still you didn’t come to pass the time.” Lockworth leaned back on his desk. “What can I do for you?”
    “We have something we’d like analyzed,” Michael began. “Quickly and quietly.”
    “I see.” Silas stopped there, brow raised. Lockworth was a man who picked up impressions of people right away. In Pandora he saw nerves under a sheen of politeness. In Michael he saw violence, not so much buried as thinly coated. He thought he detected a bond between them though they hadn’t so much as looked at each other since entering the room.
    Lockworth could have refused. His staff was slimmed down during the holidays, and work was backlogged. He was under no obligation to either of them yet. But he never forgot his obligation to Jolley McVie. “We’ll try to accommodate you.”
    In silence, Michael opened the box and drew out the bottle of champagne. “We need a report on the contents of this bottle. A confidential report. Today.”
    Lockworth took it and examined the label. His lips curved slightly. “Seventy-two. A good year. Were you thinking of starting a vineyard?”
    “We need to know what’s in there other than champagne.”
    Rather than showing surprise, Lockworth leaned back on the desk again. “You’ve reason to think there is?”
    Michael met the look. “We wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
    Lockworth only inclined his head. “All right. I’ll run it through the lab myself.”
    With