Gift of Gold

tell a great deal about Quarrel if I can meet him. I might be able to figure out where he fits in to the picture.”
    “I understand,” Hatch said calmly. He did not like Kincaid, but could not doubt the man’s ability to assess the motives and weaknesses of others. That skill was one of the many that had brought Kincaid this far. “What do you want me to do?”
    “Let’s try the easy way first. Advise him discreetly that you’ve heard rumors of the availability of the pistols and that you represent a collector who’s interested in them. Let him know that money is no object and that your collector certainly won’t ask any awkward questions concerning the provenance of the pistols. See if he takes the bait. If he does, invite him to see me here in my office.”
    “Yes, sir.” Hatch nodded to Kincaid’s back in the same formal, polite way he would have nodded if Kincaid had been facing him. Habits were habits, and the ones Hatch had cultivated had kept him employed for quite a while.

 
    Chapter Thirteen
     
    On the following Monday morning Verity stood on the busy San Francisco sidewalk and examined the entrance to the tower of glass soaring into the sky above her, “You’d think that in a state that had a definite earthquake problem there would be laws against building big glass buildings.”
    “Since when has California worried much about earthquakes? Only tourists worry about quakes.” Jonas adjusted the package under his arm and gave Verity a gentle push toward the revolving door. “Come on. Let’s see if this Kincaid guy is going to get the privilege of delivering your poor old father from the clutches of a loan shark.”
    “And after we take care of Dad’s business we get to shop for the gown I’m going to wear to Caitlin’s party,” Verity reminded him firmly.
    “Hey, lay off. I’ve already surrendered on that count, remember? I’ve accepted the fact that I can’t talk you out of that dumb Renaissance ball and I’ve promised we’ll hit the costume shops for a gown today. What more do you want from me?”
    Verity smiled sunnily. “Gracious, was I whining?”
    “You never whine, Verity. You just nag.” Jonas came to a halt in front of a bank of black and gold elevators and scanned the list of businesses housed in the glass tower. “Here we go. Top floor. The man must be doing all right, just like his representative implied.”
    “Maybe we should have brought Dad along,” Verity said. “This is his deal, after all.”
    “Take my word for it. The person with the item for sale is the last one who should handle the negotiations. Your father knows that. That’s why he turned the whole thing over to me. Now stop displaying your appalling lack of faith in my business abilities and get ready to smile sweetly.”
    “Sweetly?” Verity practiced a sugary smile. “What’s my role in all this supposed to be?”
    Jonas gave her an arrogant grin full of male challenge in response to the saccharine one she was bestowing on him. “You, my dear, have nothing more to do than play my fluff-brained but sexy redheaded girlfriend who insisted on coming with me today. All you have to do is remember to smile frequently.”
    “What a thrill.” Verity stepped into the elevator.
    “Believe me, when this Kincaid character sees that smile, it’ll be a case of instant trust. He’ll know we’re not trying to pull anything shady with the pistols. One look at you and he’d never believe you could be associated with anything underhanded or sneaky.
    “Do you always date fluff-brained, sexy redheads with sincere smiles?”
    “You’re my first he assured her as the elevator door closed. “Definitely one of a kind.”
    “It’s nice to be appreciated.”
    They stood in silence as the elevator rose. Verity stole a glance at herself in the mirrored wall. She was wearing her one good suit, a striking black and white number with a full jacket and a very narrow skirt. She hadn’t worn high heels in ages and the black pumps were already beginning to pinch. Jonas was wearing a five-year-old jacket and slacks he had been packing around for no apparent reason.
    “Actually,” Verity said, studying the dark suit that fitted his lean figure quite well, “that outfit doesn’t look five years out-of-date. Fortunately for you, men’s styles don’t change too much.”
    Jonas fingered a lapel and glanced down. Believe it or not, I occasionally find a use for this suit. Sooner or later a man needs something