Flash

between them, but both seemed content.
    Caroline's only real fault was that she had doted on Fletcher. In her eyes her son could do no wrong. Instead of helping him learn to curtail his tendencies toward reckless irresponsibility and careless arrogance, she had indulged and encouraged them.
    Caroline was not the only one who had turned a blind eye to Fletcher's less admirable traits. Six years younger than his new brother and eager for a hero to take the place of a father who was always at work, Jasper had been willing to overlook a lot, also.
    Too much, as it turned out.
    Fletcher was gone now. He and his wife, Brenda, had been killed nearly a year ago in a skiing disaster in the Alps.
    Caroline had been stunned by the news of her son's death. But she had quickly, tearfully explained to Jasper and everyone else involved that she could not possibly be expected to assume the task of raising Paul and Kirby.
    Her age and the social demands of her busy life made it impossible to start all over again as a mother to her grandsons. The boys needed someone younger, she said. Someone who had the patience and energy to handle children.
    Jasper had taken Paul and Kirby to live with him. There had been no one else. He had committed himself to the role of substitute father with the same focused, well-organized, highly disciplined determination that he applied to every other aspect of his life.
    The past eleven months had not been easy.
    The first casualty had been his marriage. The divorce had become final six months ago. He did not blame Andrea for leaving him. After all, the job of playing mother to two young boys who were not even related to her had not been part of the business arrangement that had constituted the foundation of their marriage.
    The microwave pinged. Jasper snapped back to the present. He opened the door and took out the mugs.
    "Did you have a nightmare, too, Paul?" he asked.
    "No." Paul wandered over to the fire and sat down, tailor-fashion, beside Kirby. "I woke up when I heard you guys talking out here."
    "Uncle Jasper says we can do some more archery and maybe go fishing tomorrow," Kirby announced.
    "Cool."
    Jasper carried the two cups to where the boys sat in front of the fire. "That's assuming the rain stops."
    "If it doesn't, we can always play Acid Man on the computer," Kirby said cheerfully.
    Jasper winced at the thought of being cooped up in the house all weekend while his nephews entertained themselves with the loud sound effects of the new game.
    "I'm pretty sure the rain will stop," he said, mentally crossing his fingers.
    Paul looked at the closed file on the arm of the chair. "How come you're burning those papers?"
    Jasper sat down and picked up the folder. "Old business. Just some stuff that's no longer important."
    Paul nodded, satisfied. "Too bad you don't have a shredder here, huh?"
    Jasper opened the file and resumed feeding the contents to the eager flames. "The fire works just as well."
    In his opinion, the blaze worked even better than a mechanical shredder. Nothing was as effective as fire when it came to destroying damning evidence.

Second Prologue
    « ^ »
    Five years later…

    O livia Chantry poured herself a glass of dark red zinfandel wine and carried it down the hall toward the bedroom that had been converted into an office. She still had on the high-necked, long-sleeved black dress she had worn to her husband's funeral that afternoon.
    Logan would have been her ex-husband if he had lived. She had been preparing to file for a divorce when he had suddenly jetted off to Pamplona, Spain. There he had gotten very drunk and had run with the bulls. The bulls won. Logan had been trampled to death.
    Trust him to go out in a blaze of glory, Olivia thought. And to think she had once believed that a marriage based on friendship and mutual business interests would have a solid, enduring foundation. Uncle Rollie had been right, she decided. Logan had needed her, but he had not loved her.
    Halfway down the hall she paused briefly at the thermostat to adjust the temperature. She had been feeling cold all day. The accusing expressions on the faces of the Dane family, especially the look in the eyes of Logan's younger brother, Sean, had done nothing to warm her. They knew she had seen a lawyer. They blamed her for Logan's spectacular demise.
    Her cousin Nina's anguished, tearful eyes had only deepened the chill inside Olivia.
    Uncle Rollie, the one member of Olivia's family who understood her