Copper Beach

they watched the fading sunlight splash across the red rocks. He knew they were both thinking about the past and the deadly explosion at the mine.

    The repercussions of the paranormal energy that had been released that day had echoed down into the future, creating the greatest of all the Coppersmith family secrets, the one secret that he and Willow had never told Sam, Judson or Emma.

    After a while, Willow turned her head to look at him with a speculative expression.

    “He called her Abby?” she said.

    “Yeah. After meeting her for all of maybe one hour. And now he’s on his way to Seattle.” Elias paused, trying to find a way to explain what he had heard in Sam’s voice. “He sounded energized, Willow. As if he was looking forward to something.”

    Willow smiled. “In that case, regardless of how this turns out, I’m already grateful to Abby Radwell.”

7

    “ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND, ABBY?” GWEN FRAZIER LEANED forward across the restaurant table and lowered her voice. “According to what I found online, Sam Coppersmith was implicated in the murder of his fiancée six months ago. You have no business hiring a man like that. He might be very, very dangerous.”
    “Relax, I’m employing him, I’m not sleeping with him. Big difference.”

    “That’s supposed to reassure me?”

    “Well, it certainly makes me feel better about the whole thing,” Abby said.

    They were in a booth in the bar section of the restaurant. It was seven-thirty. The after-work crowd that had drifted in earlier had come and gone. The place was now filling up with the locals from the nearby condos and apartment buildings. Several stylists from the hair salon on the corner, which closed at seven, were celebrating a birthday. The low rumble of conversation and the music playing over the sound system provided a layer of privacy.

    Gwen Frazier was the same age as Abby. Tall, dark-haired and hazel-eyed, she was an aura-reading talent who made her living as a psychic counselor. Her abilities allowed her to work with talents and non-talents alike. As she had explained to Abby, there was no real difference between the two groups of clients. Those with real psychical abilities of their own believed her when she explained that she worked by reading their auras. Those without talent wanted to believe that she could see their energy fields. It was a win-win situation for a woman in her line.

    “This isn’t a joke,” Gwen said.

    “I know. Sorry. It’s been a very long day. The drive back from Anacortes took longer than usual. Accident on the interstate.” Abby swallowed some of her wine and lowered the glass. “If it helps, I have been informed that there is no way Sam Coppersmith could have murdered his fiancée.”

    “Who told you that?”

    “The water-taxi guy.”

    “He’s an authority?”

    “He certainly seemed to think so. Evidently, no one on that island thinks Sam did it.”

    “And what proof do they offer?” Gwen demanded.

    “They seem to feel that if Sam had murdered someone, he would have done a better job of it.”

    “I beg your pardon. What’s that supposed to mean?”

    “He would have made the victim disappear.” Abby waved one hand in a now-you-see–it–now-you-don’t motion. “And he would have taken care to make sure that there was nothing left behind that pointed back to him.”

    “And you believed this water-taxi guy’s theory?”

    Abby looked at Gwen over the top of her glass. “Having met Sam Coppersmith, yes, I believe that theory.”

    “You do realize that there’s a lot of money in the Coppersmith family,” Gwen said ominously. “With money comes the kind of power it takes to make sure someone in the family does not go down for murder.”

    “Your cynical side is showing, Gwen.”

    “It’s my best side. Is this Sam Coppersmith a real private investigator?”

    “He described himself as a technical consultant.”

    “Oh, that’s just wonderful,” Gwen said.

    “But I do think he’s the best man for the job.”

    “Why, for heaven’s sake?”

    “Because this situation involves a very hot book, and I need an investigator who at least takes the paranormal seriously. Not a lot of those floating around, in case you haven’t noticed. Besides, you know as well as I do that Thaddeus Webber would never have sent me to Coppersmith if he had believed there was a better option.”

    “Point taken.” Gwen sat back. “Have you received any more email from the