Flash

for this evening."
    He gave her his lazy, white-toothed grin. "They made an exception for me."
    "I'll bet they did." The publicity Crawford could give the museum was worth more than enough for someone at the door to overlook a pair of black jeans.
    "Saw your name in the paper." Crawford watched her the way a cheerful, hungry shark would watch a school of plump little fish. "You've been busy lately. What's all this about catching the guy who killed Lancaster's husband?"
    She smiled sweetly. "No comment."
    "I hear the campaign is in turmoil."
    "No comment."
    Crawford sipped champagne. "Just friendly curiosity."
    "Friendly curiosity, my foot. If you want a story, call Lancaster's headquarters."
    "The story is hardly an exclusive at this point. It's even been in the
Banner-Journal
, for chrissakes. I'm not interested unless there's a new angle."
    "There isn't," she assured him.
    His eyes glittered. "My instincts tell me there's more going on here than what got into that
Banner-Journal
piece."
    Whatever else you could say about Crawford, Olivia thought, you had to admire his instinct for a story. For a terrible moment she wondered if he had somehow learned about the full extent of Melwood Gill's blackmail efforts.
    There was no telling what kind of mischief Crawford could stir up if he suspected that Dixon Haggard had not been Melwood's only extortion victim.
    "Forget it, Crawford. There is no story except what was in the local papers. The only question remaining is whether or not the Lancaster campaign can survive the scandal. Your guess is as good as mine."
    Crawford cocked his head in a considering fashion. "Eleanor Lancaster might just pull out of this. She's a born fighter. She's also got your brother to guide her. It'll be interesting to see what happens."
    "So, how's tricks in L.A.?"
    Crawford's smile was laced with satisfaction. "You may as well be among the first to know. I've been offered a regular spot on a network TV exposé series that will premiere in the spring. Not sure yet what it'll be called, but the show will be hot. I'm seriously considering it."
    "You're going to leave print journalism?"
    "The new paradigm for the modern journalist is a multi-media career."
    "I see. Congratulations, Crawford. You were born for television."
    "Thanks." He flicked a meaningful glance at Jasper, who was working his way back through the crowd. "Must have been a shock when you found out your uncle had left fifty-one percent of Glow to a stranger."
    "No comment."
    Crawford chuckled. "Just trying to make a little cocktail chatter."
    "No, you aren't. You're fishing for information, as usual." She smiled at Jasper as he came to a halt beside her. "Jasper, this is Crawford Lee Wilder. Crawford, Jasper Sloan."
    "Pleased to meet you, Sloan." Crawford put out his hand.
    Jasper looked pointedly down at his own hands. He had a small plate loaded with canapés balanced on each palm. He made no attempt to give one to Olivia so that he could shake Crawford's hand.
    "I've heard of you," Jasper said without inflection.
    Crawford shrugged with patently false modesty. "I get around a bit."
    "Yeah. You're the hotshot journalist whose career Olivia launched, aren't you?"
    Crawford dropped his hand back to his side as if he had just touched a red-hot stove. His eyes glittered with annoyance. "Olivia didn't exactly launch me."
    "Sure she did." Jasper gave him a suspiciously bland smile. "My secretary happened to mention that Olivia was the one who suggested you do that series on the motivational seminar company. She got the idea after the firm put on a series of motivation talks at Glow. Hell, I guess if it hadn't been for Olivia, you'd never have gotten that Pulitzer prize."
    Olivia cringed. "Now, Jasper, Crawford was the one who investigated and wrote the series."
    Crawford scowled. "Damn right."
    "But he got the idea from you." Jasper's smile turned dangerous. "The way I see it, Olivia pretty much made you what you are today, Wilder. It wasn't real nice of you to repay her by putting her into that piece of fiction on Logan Dane that you wrote last year."
    "Now just a goddamned minute," Crawford began.
    "Come to think of it," Jasper said a little too pleasantly, "you owe your two biggest stories to Olivia, don't you? Tell me, have you ever come up with an original idea on your own?"
    "I've had just about enough out of you, Sloan," Crawford said through set teeth.
    "Is that why you're back here in Seattle?" Jasper's eyes glinted. "Are you