Homeport

kettle from the stove and took it to the sink. “Not only that, but that we were spending the day playing patty-cake.”
    “Patty-cake.” He just couldn’t resist it, and wrapped his arms around her back to hug. He didn’t even mind the elbow in the ribs. “You’re so cute, Miranda.”
    “I am not cute, and I am not happy with this ridiculous lie.”
    “Well, I suppose I could have told him I’m the one who stole the bronze. Then we could explain to him how it’s a forgery and the Institute is now hip-deep in insurance fraud. Somehow I think the fact that you’re playing patty-cake with some British twit is more palatable.”
    Teeth clenched, she warmed the teapot. “Why a British twit, for God’s sake?”
    “Just came to me. I thought he might be your type.” He smiled engagingly when she sent a withering look over her shoulder. “The point is, Miranda, your father’s here, he’s been to the Institute, he obviously wants some answers. You have to figure out just which answers to give him.”
    “You don’t think I know that? Do I look stupid?”
    “Not at all, but I’d say you’re an inherently honest person. Lying takes skill. What you have to do here is give him everything you knew up until the point where I joined you in bed this morning.”
    “I could have figured that out for myself, Rodney.” But her stomach was already busy tying itself into knots over the lie.

    “You’ve had less than three hours’ sleep. You’re sluggish. Where are your cups?” He reached into a cupboard.
    “No, don’t use the everyday.” She waved an absent hand. “Get the good china out of the breakfront in the dining room.”
    He lifted his brows. Good china was for company, not for family. It gave him another insight into Miranda Jones. “I’ll get two. I believe Rodney perceives your father wants to have a private chat with you.”
    “Coward,” she muttered.
    She arranged the pot, the cups, the saucers meticulously on the tray, and tried not to be annoyed that Ryan had gone up the back steps and left her to deal with it alone. She squared her shoulders, lifted the tray, and carried it out to the parlor, where her father stood in front of the fireplace, reading from a small leather notebook.
    He was so handsome, was all she could think. Tall and straight and tanned, his hair shining. When she was very young, she’d thought he looked like a picture out of a fairy tale. Not a prince or a knight, but a wizard. So wise and dignified.
    She’d so desperately wanted him to love her. To give her piggyback rides and cuddle her in his lap, to tuck the blankets around her at night and tell her foolish stories.
    Instead, she’d had to settle for a mild and often absent kind of affection. No one had ever given her piggyback rides or told her foolish stories.
    She sighed the sorrow of that away and continued into the room. “I asked Rodney to give us a few minutes alone,” she began. “I imagine you want to talk to me about the burglary.”
    “Yes, I do. It’s very upsetting, Miranda.”
    “Yes, we’re all very upset.” She set the tray down, settled into a chair, and poured out as she had been taught. “The police are investigating. We have hopes to recover the bronze.”
    “In the meantime, the publicity is damaging for the Institute. Your mother is distressed, and I’ve had to leave my project at a very key time to come here.”

    “There was no reason for you to come.” Hands steady, she held out his cup. “Everything’s being done that can be done.”
    “Obviously our security is not at an acceptable level. Your brother is responsible for that.”
    “This isn’t Andrew’s fault.”
    “We put the Institute in his hands, and yours,” he reminded her, and idly sipped his tea.
    “He’s doing a marvelous job. Class attendance is up ten percent, gate receipts have increased. The quality of our acquisitions over the past five years has been astonishing.”
    Oh, and it galled so to have to defend and justify when the man across from her had walked away from the responsibilities of the Institute as easily as he had the responsibilities of family.
    “The Institute was never one of your priorities.” She said it mildly, knowing he would only tune out anger. “You preferred fieldwork. Andrew and I have put all our time and energy into it.”
    “And now we have our first theft in more than a generation. It can’t be overlooked, Miranda.”
    “No, but the time and sweat and work and the