Gift of Fire

years. I,” Jonas added virtuously, “felt obliged to rush straight home to the little woman I just knew would be waiting anxiously for my return.”
    Verity ignored that last crack. “Sam Lehigh’s all right? The kidnappers turned him over without a fuss?”
    “He’s fine. The guys who had him were not the brightest bunch.” Jonas ran a hand through his tousled hair. As the tension drained out of his body, his exhaustion became obvious. He stifled a yawn.
    “And Dad?”
    “He’s fine too. Nobody who counted got hurt.”
    “Nobody who counted! What about the kidnappers?” Verity asked anxiously.
    Jonas regarded her through narrowed eyes. “I said nobody who counted got hurt. You, being the upright little citizen you are, will be pleased to know that the three who had Lehigh are now enjoying the hospitality of a Mexican jail.”
    Verity brightened. “You turned the whole thing over to the police after all? I’m so glad. I knew it would be better if you handled it that way.”
    “We didn’t exactly turn them over to the Mexican cops,” Jonas said carefully. “We just sort of left the three jerks at the scene of the crime. You know how it is down there. Whoever’s hanging around when the police move in is generally considered guilty.”
    “What, exactly, did you leave those three hanging around with?” Verity demanded suspiciously.
    “A warehouse full of drugs. It belonged to relatives, I gather. The three fools were holding Lehigh in the back of the place. After we got Lehigh out, we made sure the kidnappers weren’t going anywhere for a while. Then Emerson made an anonymous call to the cops. It was a nice, prestigious arrest for the authorities. Headlines in all the papers, medals for everyone.”
    “I have the distinct impression that you’re oversimplifying things enormously.”
    “I’m just trying to be concise so that we can get back to the main topic here,” Jonas declared ominously. “When and why did the Sir Galahad in a yuppie suit show up?”
    “His name is Warwick,” Verity said testily. “Doug Warwick. He and his sister Elyssa are staying at the resort. After I sprained my ankle on the steps this evening, I called Laura. She came right over, and the Warwicks came with her. It was really very kind of them. I was a little frightened, you see.”
    Jonas dropped into a crouch beside the sofa. He touched the bandaged ankle with surprisingly gentle hands. “Frightened because of the fall?”
    “No, because of what made me fall.”
    Jonas’s head came up sharply.
    “Someone was in the house when I got home from the spa tonight, Jonas. He came rushing out, knocking me to one side. I barely caught myself in time to keep from falling down the steps.”
    Jonas stared at her in amazement. “Holy shit! Are you serious?”
    “Very.
    “Someone got in here?” Jonas’s hand tightened on Verity’s knee as he glanced around the comfortably furnished room.
    Verity followed his gaze. “Doesn’t look like he took anything, does it? The stereo is still here, and so’s the television. I must have interrupted him before he had a chance to do any damage. That reminds me—I’m supposed to phone the sheriff’s office and let them know if anything’s missing.” She reached for the phone on the end table.
    As she dialed, Jonas prowled around the room, opening the cupboards and checking the closets. Then he disappeared down the hall to the bedroom. When he returned, Verity had finished her brief report and was hanging up the phone.
    “Dammit, I go away for less than five days and you get yourself into trouble,” Jonas growled as he stalked into the kitchen.
    “I did not get myself into trouble. I was the innocent victim of an intruder.” Verity heard the clink of a bottle against glass. “Make mine juice.” A moment later Jonas reappeared with two glasses. One was filled with cranberry juice.
    “Did you lock the door before you went over to the spa tonight?” He sat down beside her and handed her the juice.
    “No. I never lock it. You know that. We don’t have any crime around here.”
    “Well, we do now, don’t we? Of all the crazy, idiotic excuses. How many times have I told you to lock that front door?”
    “Now, Jonas…”
    “And this business of walking alone over to the spa late at night has got to stop. From now on, either I go with you, or you stay home and find something else to do.”
    “Now, Jonas…”
    “I’d like to know where this Warwick character got