Absolutely, Positively

hadn't brought up the subject. He was out of practice, but he wasn't stupid.

    It struck Harry that Molly looked wonderful tonight. She had on a dashing little scarlet dress trimmed with gold buttons. The matching cropped jacket had a snappy, mock-military style. Her rambunctious hair was inadequately confined behind each ear with small gold clips. A pair of strappy black dress sandals emphasized the graceful arch of her feet. Harry realized that he had never before seen Molly in anything except business attire. It was a pleasant change of pace.

    “I think most of them survived.” Molly stooped to retrieve the roses.

    “Forget the flowers. They're ruined.”

    “No, they're not. One or two are a little crushed, but that's all.”

    Harry decided not to argue the point. The drooping blooms spoke for themselves. He turned his attention back to the black box and its wicked-looking gun.

    “Any idea who left you this?” he asked.

    “No.” Molly gave the gun assembly a dismissive glance as she walked back up the steps. “It looks like the handiwork of one of my sister's friends. She runs with an inventive crowd. Some of the boys are still a little immature, even though they're all starting college in the fall.”

    Harry recalled the fleeting but unmistakable sense ofwrongness that had assailed him when he had reached out to knock the box onto its side. He swiftly suppressed the flash of recognition. There was nothing unusual in such a reaction, he told himself. The sight of a gun aimed at Molly was reason enough to explain the nasty feeling that had hit him at that moment.

    “Your sister has friends who play jokes like this?” he asked.

    “Kelsey got the family talent for invention.” Molly smiled wryly. “She hangs out with a brainy bunch who have similar interests. They're all really very nice for the most part, but some of them have very strange notions of what constitutes humor. They've been known to spend weeks planning very elaborate, very clever pranks to play on each other.”

    Harry flexed his fingers. Some of the tension eased out of his muscles. “Sounds as if you've been through this sort of thing on previous occasions.”

    Molly wrinkled her nose. “If you grow up in a household like mine, you learn to take surprises in stride. Come on inside while I put these roses in water.”

    Harry hesitated, and then he went down on one knee to gather up the bits and pieces of the broken pistol assembly. He braced himself as he touched the fake pistol. A sense of relief went through him when he realized he felt nothing other than plastic and metal beneath his fingertips. It was okay. Just his imagination.

    He frowned at the flag that hung from the barrel of the pistol. “Are you sure this was the work of one of your sister's friends?” he asked as he got to his feet.

    “What else could it be?” Molly smiled at her armful of yellow roses. “Probably a farewell gag. Kelsey is leaving town on Sunday. She's going to her new college in California to attend a special month-long summer workshop for students in the sciences.”

    “I see.”

    With the broken pistol assembly cradled in his arms, Harry followed Molly into the cavernous hall. She led the way into a bizarre kitchen.

    Harry gazed around with interest. Everything was familiar but ever so slightly skewed in appearance, as if the contents of the kitchen had all been taken from the galley of theStarship Enterprise . The countertops and appliances were fashioned of stainless steel and plastic shaped into innovative forms. A control panel was embedded in the wall.

    Molly opened a cupboard door and removed a vase. Harry carried the broken pistol assembly to a polished steel table near the window and set it down.

    “Where is your sister tonight?” he asked as he poked among the remains of the black box.

    “Out with friends.”

    “Which of her friends didn't know that she was going out this evening?”

    “I have no idea.” Molly turned off the water and adjusted the roses in the vase. “Could have been any number of people. Why do you ask?”

    Harry picked up the pistol and turned it in his hand. “Whoever set up this contraption must have thought that she would be home this evening.”

    Molly frowned over a broken rose. “I suppose so.” She reluctantly removed the bloom and dropped it into a strange-looking steel container. There was a soft whoosh. The damaged flower vanished from sight.

    Harry took off his jacket and