Gift of Gold

as she reached them. “Some men can’t handle it, you know. They die or go crazy when they no longer have a regular nine-to-five job. The shock of being without work for the first time in their lives is too much for them. It’s good to know you two won’t ever get too dependent on that kind of routine.”
    Jonas leaned back against a railing post, one jeaned leg resting on the step below the one on which he sat. His other leg was stretched indolently out along the redwood boards. He ate a chip, tipped the beer can to his mouth, and emptied it with obvious pleasure before he spoke.
    “Practice, practice, practice. Right, Emerson?”
    “Damn right,” Emerson agreed from the opposite side of the steps. He smiled blandly at his daughter. “Sit down, Red. If you promise not to lecture us on the virtues of employment, we might let you have a can of beer and a handful of chips.”
    Verity raised her eyes briefly toward the heavens and surrendered. “It’s a deal. I’m too tired to try whipping either of you into shape today.”
    Jonas patted the step below him. “That’s good news. Have a seat. I’ll even open the beer for you.”
    “Always the gentleman.” But she accepted the cold, wet can with some gratitude. For some reason, she didn’t have the energy to lecture today.
    Jonas leaned back against the post again and looked at Emerson. “Where the hell did she get such a heavy dose of the old-fashioned work ethic, anyway?”
    “Don’t look at me,” Emerson said. “It didn’t come from my side of the family.”
    Verity wrinkled her nose at both men, choosing to ignore the deliberate provocation. Sometimes a woman had to rise above the generally primitive sense of humor frequently favored by the male of the species.
    The three of them sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, absorbing the faint sound of the murmuring trees and the sight of the lake in sunshine. Neither Jonas nor Emerson seemed inclined to start a conversation so Verity waited until she’d fortified herself with a few swallows of beer before she took the initiative.
    “Well. Jonas, have you told Dad about the test you want to run with the pistols?”
    Jonas shrugged. “I told him.”
    Verity looked at her father. “What do you think, Dad?” Emerson rubbed the back of his neck. “About what?”
    “About this psychometry business,” she said bluntly, not looking at Jonas. “Do you believe in it?”
    “Red, I believe in a lot of things I can’t see or taste or touch. Things like black holes in the heart of the universe, and the Theory of Relativity. I’m willing to keep an open mind toward this psychic stuff. If Jonas says he’s got some kind of talent for it, I’m willing to wait and see.”
    “Do you know anything about psychometry?” Verity demanded.
    Emerson raised a heavy brow. “I know that any really good collector, antique dealer, or museum director will tell you he’s heard stories of people in his line of work who just seem to know when an object is genuine. It’s usually passed off as some kind of intuition based on extensive experience, a gut feel for what’s real and what’s not. But who knows? It could be the rudiments of psychometry. And if it is, it makes sense to think that a few people might have been born with more than just some rudimentary talent. A few might have gotten the full-blown power. Like I said, I’m keeping an open mind. What about you?”
    Verity glanced at Jonas, who had his dark head resting against the post. His eyes were closed and he seemed not to be paying any attention to the conversation.
    “I’m keeping an open mind, too,” Verity said.
    Jonas spoke without opening his eyes. “If you believe that, Emerson, I’ve got some oceanfront property down in Arizona I’d like to sell you.”
    Emerson chuckled. “I guess we’ll find out a little more about all this when you two run this test, huh? If nothing else, it should be amusing. I always enjoy a good party trick.”
    “Did Jonas tell you that the last time he practiced his party trick someone almost got killed?” Verity sensed Jonas’s sudden, deep stillness.
    “Just a lab tech, from what I hear.” Emerson was unconcerned. “In this day and age lab techs are as common as white mice. What’s one more or less?”
    “Dad!”
    Emerson grinned. “Just teasing, Red.” He reached for a fresh can of beer. “When are you planning to do your stuff, Jonas? I want to be around. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to