Absolutely, Positively

in Seattle planning another prank.”

    “Maybe he'd had enough of revenge,” Molly suggested, feeling quite optimistic now that it was obvious Kendall was gone.

    “Possible.” Harry moved into the center of the room. He went down on one knee to look under the bed. “Or maybe he realized he'd pushed his luck a little too far. Any way you cut it, there are a lot of maybes.”

    Molly watched as Harry rose and went into the bathroom. “What are you looking for?”

    “I'm not sure. I'll know it when I see it.”

    “It looks like Kendall took all of his possessions.”

    “Yes.” Harry walked out of the bathroom and headed for the front room. “But he packed in a hurry. And he was sloppy, remember?”

    “So?”

    “So, it's possible he overlooked something in his haste to get out of Icy Crest.” Harry began systematically to open and close the kitchen cupboard doors.

    “Such as?”

    “An address. The phone number of someone he knows in California. Whatever. Anything that will give me a lead.”

    Molly's uneasy mood had begun to lift, but Harry's words sent it plunging once more. “But he's gone. It's over. He can't continue his stupid revenge scheme from California.”

    “Something tells me it would be good policy to know exactly where he is. I don't like the idea that he's drifting around out there in the ether. I want to get a handle on him.”

    “I think you're being overly cautious here,” Molly said.

    “It's my nature. I do things methodically and logically, remember?”

    “Yeah, sure.”

    Molly gingerly raised a couch cushion to see what evil lurked underneath it. When she discovered the decomposing remains of several crushed potato chips, she eased the cushion back into place. She cautiously continued the search, but all she discovered was further evidence that Wharton Kendall had subsisted on junk food.

    In an effort to demonstrate that she, too, could be systematic and orderly, she knelt on the couch and peered down into the darkness behind it. She was surprised to see a notebook wedged between the wall and the back of the couch.

    “Aha,” she said.

    Harry glanced at her from the other side of the small room, where he was going through a desk. “Aha, what?”

    “I see something.” Molly scrambled off the couch and tried to shove the massive relic away from the wall. It didn't budge. “This sucker is heavy.”

    “Hang on, I'll give you a hand with that.” Harry crossed the room and took a firm grip on one arm of the couch. He shoved it away from the wall as easily as though it were made of cardboard.

    Molly sidled into the opening and plucked the notebook off the floor. “It's probably nothing at all. But my father used to keep his notes in three-ring binders like this.”

    Harry stood behind her and watched as she flipped open the notebook. He frowned at the crude drawings inside. “Looks like more of his wild designs for paranormal instrumentation. The guy is really out there on the fringe. And you were ready to give him ten grand to finance his loony project.”

    “That is very unfair. You know perfectly well that I did not argue with you when you turned down his proposal. I was still at the point in our association where I was trying to show due respect for your technical expertise.”

    “That stage didn't last long,” Harry said absently. “Wait, turn the page back.”

    Molly obediently flipped back to the previous sheet of paper. She studied the sketch that had caught his eye. “Well?”

    “Don't you recognize it?”

    “No. Should I? It looks like a box with a jumble of mechanical stuff inside.”

    “It's the box that housed the fake gun assembly,” Harry said with soft certainty. “This is it. This is our proof that Kendall was behind the pranks.”

    Half an hour later Molly experienced a quiet surge of relief as the unfriendly town of Icy Crest vanished behind a curve in the road. She adjusted her seat belt, settled back, and picked up Wharton Kendall's notebook. She began to turn the pages with casual interest.

    “Do you still think it's necessary to track Kendall down?” she asked as she studied one of the sketches.

    “Definitely. I want him to know that we're on to him and that we've got enough evidence to call in the police, if necessary.” Harry accelerated smoothly out of a tight curve. “But the more I think about it, the more I'm convinced that you're right. It's going to be tough to convince the cops to get involved in