Absolutely, Positively

state with great certainty that Gordon and I would not have lasted very long as a couple.”

    Harry glanced at her and saw the fresh mischief in her eyes. “Why not?”

    “I hate to sound picky, but going to bed with a man who makes noises like an espresso machine during intimate moments is out of the question. I have my standards.”

    Relief poured through Harry. “I'll try not to hiss at the wrong time.”

    Harry studied the drawings attached to the grant proposal that was spread out on his desk. The sketch was for a device that would supposedly collect energy from the sun and use it to power an automobile. Harry had nixed the grant on the grounds that the inventor's theories and technological ability were both equally mundane. The proposal embodied no original thinking. Nor did it exhibit the level of mechanical engineering expertise required to carry it out.

    But whoever had set up the fake gun and the hobgoblin was not a truly original thinker, Harry reminded himself. Clever but not original. There was a vast difference.

    The disgruntled inventor had used ordinary ideas and well-worn technology to create his malicious devices. Technically speaking, whoever had submitted the solar-powered automobile proposal could have been the creator of the pranks. But there was something that did not quite fit. Something did not feel right.

    Harry set the proposal aside and turned to the next one on the pile. He had worked his way through nearly half of the hundred documents stacked on his desk. He intended to keep going until he found the one he was searching for. It was here, somewhere. He was convinced of it.

    Molly, seated at the glass table next to the aquarium, looked up from her small computer. “Any luck?”

    “No.” Harry scanned the cover page of the next proposal. “But I'll find it. I'm a patient man.”

    Molly made a face. “I do not want to hear that patience is a virtue.”

    “I'll skip the lectures tonight. I've got better things to do.”

    “Thanks.” Her expression sobered. She regarded him with a shadowed look. “This is really going above and beyond the call of duty, Harry. No one's paying you to find this guy.”

    “Forget it,” Harry said. “That bastard is here somewhere, and I'm going to dig him out.” He turned the page of the proposal and concentrated on the drawing of a wind-driven generator.

    Molly returned to her computer.

    A companionable silence settled on the study. Harry realized absently that he was starting to take such silences for granted. He no longer worried about offending Molly when he sank into his thoughts. She always seemed to have plenty to do herself. She did not have to be entertained. Nor did she pester him with questions about his moods.

    The buzz of the lobby intercom jarred Harry out of his concentration a few minutes later. He glanced at his watch. It was nearly ten o'clock.

    “We've got a visitor,” he said.

    “Who in the world would drop by for a visit at this hour?”

    “Family.”

    “Ah, yes. Of course.”

    Harry got to his feet and went across the room to the intercom panel. He punched the button. “This is Trevelyan.”

    “You have a visitor, Mr. Trevelyan,” Chris, the doorman, announced. “Mrs. Danielle Hughes is here to see you.”

    Harry closed his eyes in brief resignation. “Send her up, Chris.”

    “Sure thing, Mr. Trevelyan.”

    Harry released the intercom button. “My Aunt Danielle. Brandon's mother.”

    “Ah.”

    He turned to Molly and saw empathy in the jeweled depths of her gaze. It was an odd sensation to know that she somehow understood his feelings at that moment. He was not entirely sure that he comprehended them himself. It was always like this when he dealt with his family.

    Molly started to close the top of her computer. “You'll probably want to talk to your aunt alone in here. I'll go out into the living room.”

    “No, stay where you are. No sense allowing Danielle to disrupt your work as well as mine. I'll introduce you to her, and then I'll talk to her in the front room.”

    “Whatever you want. I take it this is going to be an unpleasant conversation?”

    “Let's just say I think I know what Danielle wants.” Harry walked toward the door. “Experience tells me that the sooner I give it to her, the sooner I'll be able to get back to work.”

    “Good luck.”

    The doorbell chimed. Harry went to answer the imperious summons. Danielle was standing in the outer hall. Her handsome,