Grand Passion

explanation to consider.”
    Max met O'Reilly's eyes. “I think I like this one the least.”
    Cleo frowned. “You haven't even heard it yet.”
    O'Reilly smiled wryly. “Max has a very analytical brain. He's already figured out that the third possibility is a rather nasty one.”
    “What is it?” Trisha asked uneasily.
    Max looked down into the bubbling fountain water. “That there is something in Cleo's past that has triggered someone into coming after her.”
    “Shit,” Ben whispered, awed. He looked at Max. “Are you serious?”
    “Yes.” Max looked at Cleo, then continued. “I know we talked about this possibility briefly and then let it drop. I didn't want you worrying about it. But it looks like we need to look into it further.”
    “What is there to look into?” Cleo asked. “I've already told you that I don't have any strange, obsessive men in my past. Nothing bizarre has ever occurred in my life except for the deaths of my parents.”
    “Your parents died in a very unusual manner,” Max said quietly.
    “Yes, but there was a logical explanation for it,” Cleo reminded him. Her eyes turned bleak. “At least according to the authorities there was a logical explanation.”
    O'Reilly glanced at Max. Then he turned to Cleo. “I think this is as good a time as any to tell you that I did a little checking into the death of that investigator you hired last summer.”
    Cleo's gaze swung to O'Reilly. “You looked into Mr. Eberson's death? Why?”
    “Because you mentioned that he was working on your case at the time, and because I am a very thorough investigator myself,” O'Reilly said.
    “Well?” Cleo waited expectantly. “Was there anything strange about his car accident?”
    “Not officially. The records indicate that it was an accident. But when I phoned the insurance salesman who took over Eberson's office space, he mentioned that he'd had to wait quite a while before he could move in.”
    Max watched O'Reilly's face closely. “Why?”
    “Because there was some fire damage that had to be repaired first.” O'Reilly closed his notebook with a snap. “It seems that there was a small blaze caused by faulty wiring in the office. It completely destroyed Eberson's files.”
    “Is that so?” Max asked softly.
    Cleo wrapped her arms around her knees. Her eyes were huge with worry as she gazed at O'Reilly. “What are you saying? Do you think that Eberson had uncovered something about my parents' death that may have gotten him killed?”
    O'Reilly held up a hand. “Cleo, I will tell you honestly that I don't know where this is going to lead. It could very well be a dead end. In fact, in all likelihood, it is a dead end. But it's something that needs to be checked out.”
    “What are you going to do?” Ben asked.
    “I'm going to resume the investigation that was dropped when Eberson died,” O'Reilly said. “Now that Max is here to keep an eye on all of you, I'm going to Seattle to start looking into the background surrounding the death of Cleo's parents.”
    Max saw Cleo go absolutely rigid.
    “I'm not sure that's a good idea,” she whispered. “What if there is some crazy person out there?”
    “Then we'd better find out who he is, hadn't we?” O'Reilly asked calmly. “Before he does any more damage.”
    Sylvia shifted uneasily in her chair. “I don't want you to take any risks, O'Reilly.”
    Max noted the very personal note of concern in Sylvia's voice.
    O'Reilly beamed reassuringly. “Hey, I'm good at this. It's what I do.”
    “Sylvia's right,” Cleo said quickly. “If there's something dangerous going on here we should call in the police.”
    “There's no point doing that at this stage,” O'Reilly said. “We haven't got enough to go on. Like I said, we're probably chasing a dead-end lead. I just want to be sure we've covered all the bases.”
    Andromeda frowned. “You still think Spark is the most likely suspect, don't you?”
    “That's exactly what I think,” O'Reilly said. “The timing of the incidents and the amount of money involved make that the most likely possibility.”
    “I don't like this,” Cleo whispered. “I'm getting a weird feeling.”
    “What kind of feeling?” Trisha asked.
    “I don't know. It's just weird.”
    Max reached down to take her hand and pull her to her feet. “I think it's time we all went to bed.” She didn't resist when he tugged her up off the chair, but the coldness in her fingers worried him.
    Trisha looked at O'Reilly.