Absolutely, Positively

happening to you lately, and if you're sure that the pranks are not the work of one of your sister's friends, I urge you to let the police handle the situation.”

    “As a matter of fact, Harry talked to the police yesterday,” Molly said. “There's not much they can do, especially if Wharton Kendall has left for California.”

    “But surely they can do something about that car that tried to run you off the road,” Venicia said.

    “They couldn't do anything except make a note of it and promise to keep an eye out for a blue Ford driven in a dangerous manner,” Molly explained. “Harry and I can't even be certain there's a connection between the attempt to sideswipe us and Wharton Kendall. Personally, the more I think about it, the more I doubt that there is. We were probably just the near victims of a drunk driver.”

    Cutter gave her a considering look. “Why do you believe there's no connection?”

    “Because until now, Kendall's idea of revenge has been to scare me with childish pranks,” Molly said. “He certainly hasn't tried to hurt me.”

    Cutter's eyes narrowed. “If this Wharton Kendall fellow is responsible for the incidents, he's obviously a sick man, my dear. His insane rage may escalate. He could be very dangerous. Your aunt is right. You probably ought to move in with her until this is all over.”

    “I'll be safe at Harry's,” Molly insisted. She did not want to point out that if Kendall was pursuing her, the last thing she wanted to do was put Venicia in jeopardy.

    Venicia sighed. “My dear, I hate to sound old-fashioned, but you really must think about how this looks. People will wonder what Dr. Trevelyan's intentions are.”

    Molly rolled her eyes. “Aunt Venicia, please. We're not living in the last century.”

    Cutter looked grim. “I think we can guess Trevelyan's intentions.”

    Molly scowled at him. “What's that supposed to mean?”

    “It means,” Cutter said, “that there may be more to this than meets the eye. I realize that you are attracted to the man, my dear, but you must keep a level head. You are responsible for a great deal of money.”

    Molly unclasped her hands and braced them against the edge of her desk. “Are you still concerned that Harry may be interested in me only because he intends to skim a fortune in consulting fees off the foundation assets?”

    “Don't be angry, dear,” Venicia said quickly. “Cutter and I are both worried about this unusual relationship that seems to have sprung up between you and Dr. Trevelyan.”

    “I hate to say this,” Cutter added ominously, “but it has struck me that your Dr. Trevelyan may be taking advantage of this Wharton Kendall situation.”

    “That's outrageous,” Molly said.

    “Is it?” Cutter looked unconvinced. “It appears to me that he's drawing you deeper and deeper into his web. Trevelyan has convinced you that you need his protection in addition to his expertise. You've become emotionally involved, my dear.”

    “For the last time,” Molly said through her teeth, “I know what I'm doing.”

    Cutter shook his head. “Anyone who is the trustee for a well-endowed foundation must question such a personal relationship with someone who stands to profit from that foundation. No, my dear, the way I see it, you've got two distinct threats to worry about. The possibility that an unstable inventor is out for revenge, and the equally unwelcome prospect of working with an unscrupulous consultant.”

    Molly realized she was seething. “If Harry was so interested in getting his hands on a fortune, he wouldn't have walked away from the Stratton money.”

    Cutter studied her with a sympathetic expression. “He didn't exactly walk away from it, my dear. According to my sources, he and his grandfather, Parker Stratton, quarreled bitterly. Harry refused to go to work for the firm. Stratton cut him off from the family money. And there's something more. Something you may not know.”

    “What's that?” Molly demanded.

    Cutter hesitated. “I hate to say this, but I have heard a rumor to the effect that Harry Trevelyan may not be a well man, mentally speaking.”

    “What? Where on earth did you hear that?”

    Cutter sighed. “An acquaintance of mine once worked for Stratton Properties. He knows people there. Apparently Trevelyan's fiancée broke off her engagement to him when she discovered that he had some sort of psychiatric disorder. She's a psychologist, I understand, so she understood