A Will and a Way

not sure they can get that broad.”
    Undaunted, he pointed to her worktable. “What is that thing?”
    “This thing,” she began tightly, “is a pendant. A waterfall effect made with brass wire and some scraps of silver I had left over from a bracelet.”
    “No waste,” he murmured. “Practical as ever. So what’s the next step?”
    With a long breath, she decided it would be simpler to play along than to throw him out. “I’ve just finished adjusting the curves of the wires. I’ve used different thicknesses and lengths to give it a free-flowing effect. The silver scraps I’ve cut and filed into elongated teardrops. Now I solder them onto the ends of the wires.”
    She applied the flux, shifting a bit so that he could watch. After she’d put a square of solder beside each wire, she used the torch to apply heat until the solder melted. Patient, competent, she repeated the procedure until all twelve teardrops were attached.
    “Looks easy enough,” he mused.
    “A child of five could do it.”
    He heard the sarcasm and laughed as he took her hands. “You want flattery? A few minutes ago I saw a pile of metal. Now I see an intriguing ornament. Ornate and exotic.”
    “It’s supposed to be exotic,” Pandora replied. “Jessica Wainwright will wear it in the film. It’s to have been a gift from an old lover. The countess claims he was a Turkish prince.”
    Michael studied the necklace again. “Very appropriate.”
    “It’ll droop down from brass and silver wires twisted together. The lowest teardrop should hang nearly to her waist.” Pleased, but knowing better than to touch the metal before the solder cooled, Pandora held up her sketch. “Ms. Wainwright was very specific. She wants nothing ordinary, nothing even classic. Everything she wears should add to the character’s mystique.”
    She set the sketch down and tidied her tools. She’d solder on the hoop and fashion the neck wire when they returned from town. Then if there was time, she’d begin the next project. Thegold-plated peacock pin with its three-inch filigree tail would take her the better part of two weeks.
    “This thing has potential as a murder weapon,” Michael mused, picking up a burnisher to examine the curved, steel tip.
    “I beg your pardon?”
    He liked the way she said it, so that even with her back turned she was looking down her nose. “For a story line.”
    “Leave my tools out of your stories.” Pandora took the burnisher from him and packed it away. “Going to buy me lunch in town?” She stripped off her apron then grabbed her coat.
    “I was going to ask you the same thing.”
    “I asked first.” She locked the shop and welcomed the cold. “The snow’s beginning to melt.”
    “In a few weeks, the five dozen bulbs Jolley planted during his gardening stage will be starting to bloom.”
    “Daffodils,” she murmured. It didn’t seem possible when you felt the air, saw the mounds of snow, but spring was closing in. “The winter hasn’t seemed so long.”
    “No, it hasn’t.” He slipped an arm around her shoulders. “I never expected six months to go so quickly. I figured one of us would’ve attempted murder by this time.”
    With a laugh, Pandora matched her step to his. “We’ve still got a month to go.”
    “Now we have to behave ourselves,” he reminded her. “Lieutenant Randall has his eye on us.”
    “I guess we blew our chance.” She turned to wind her arms around his neck. “There have been times I’ve wanted to hit you with a blunt instrument.”
    “Feeling’s mutual,” he told her as he lowered his mouth. Her lips were cool and curved.
    At the side window, Sweeney drew back the drape. “Look at this!” Cackling, she gestured to Charles. “I told you it would work. In a few more weeks, I’ll be putting bells on a wedding cake.”
    As Charles joined Sweeney at the window, Pandora scooped a hand into the snow and tossed it in Michael’s face. “Don’t count your chickens,” he muttered.
    In a desperate move to avoid retaliation, Pandora raced to the garage. She ducked seconds before snow splattered against the door. “Your aim’s still off, cousin.” Hefting the door, she sprinted inside and jumped into his car. Smug, she settled into the seat. He wouldn’t, she was sure, mar his spotless interior with a snowball. Michael opened the door, slid in beside her and dumped snow over her head. She was still squealing when he turned the key.
    “I’m better at close