Midnight Jewels

trying to cut your strings. But it won't work, Mercy. You can't break the bonds between us that easily."
    "We'll see," she shot back. "Tell me something. Did you ever think of playing fair with me right from the start? You could have walked into my shop on Friday and told me exactly what was going on and why you were interested in
Valley
."
    He shook his head once. "No. I considered that approach and discarded it."
    "Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence. Mind telling me why?"
    He almost winced at the scathing tone of her voice. Then he tried to give her a complete answer. "First of all I had to be sure you weren't involved as anything more than an innocent bystander."
    "Good grief! You actually thought that I might be connected with Graves?"
    "There was always the possibility that you were using the ad in the bookseller's catalog to contact him. As soon as I met you, I rejected that idea."
    "I suppose I didn't strike you as smart enough to be involved. I don't have the cunning mind of the true criminal, is that it? Or was it something about my beautiful eyes that convinced you I was innocent?"
    "It probably was your eyes," he said reflectively and had the satisfaction of seeing her struggle to decide if he was joking or not.
    "Uh huh. And after you came to the conclusion that I was just a dumb bystander, how did you justify misleading me?"
    "I decided there was no need to alarm you unnecessarily. I wanted to check out my speculations before I got you involved any deeper than you already were. I didn't want you worrying if there was no need."
    "In other words, you did it for my own good?" Her tone was oddly neutral.
    Relief spread through Croft.
She understood
. "That's right." He took a deep breath and began to relax. "For your own good. If everything had been on the level with this deal with Gladstone, I wouldn't ever have had to say anything. We could have had a pleasant trip to Colorado and used the time to get to know each other better, just as you wanted to do. If something did go wrong, I would be there to handle it."
    "Croft, has anyone ever explained to you that the worst excuse in the world for screwing a woman is to tell her it's for her own good?"
    Mercy's hand on the back of the seat was clenched into a tight little fist. Croft saw it out of the corner of his eye and decided he had been wrong. It was much too soon for him to relax. "This conversation is getting us nowhere. Let's talk about how we're going to handle Gladstone."
    "Yes," Mercy said rashly, "let's talk about that. It just, so happens I have a few ideas on the subject. But let's find a place to stop for breakfast first. It's been a busy night. I'm hungry."

    Twenty minutes later Mercy sat across the table from Croft in a small cafe they had found in a tiny mountain community on the edge of another ski area. She waited patiently while Croft ordered his morning tea with as much care and as many precise directions as possible. The middle-aged waitress, wearing scuffed sneakers and a stained uniform and still half asleep, listened to the instructions with weary patience. Mercy, who had listened to the same relentless list of directions the morning before, empathized with the poor woman.
    "I assume you haven't any loose tea," Croft said grimly. "And if you did, it would probably be lousy. That means a tea bag. Please put it in the pot first and pour boiling water over it. I would prefer that you heated fresh water and make sure it actually boils. It has to boil in order to extract the full flavor from the tea, do you understand? Please don't use the warm water you keep in that pot on the coffee machine. Boiling water, please. It would be a great help if you rinsed the teapot out first with hot water before adding the tea bag and the boiling water."
    When the tea arrived a few minutes later, the water in the cup lukewarm, a tea bag slung negligently onto the saucer, he accepted it with stoic resignation.
    Mercy felt her first humorous lift in hours. She sipped her weak coffee and grinned at Croft over the rim of the cup. "Sometimes you have to be adaptable."
    He didn't look up as he dunked the tea bag in the lukewarm water and tried to coax some color and flavor out of it. "You mean sometimes one has to compromise. But there are some things that are ruined with compromise. A cup of tea is one of them."
    "Is that another aspect of your philosophy?"
    "I guess you could say that."
    He didn't seem to want to discuss the matter. Mercy therefore was