Midnight Jewels

to be tonight."
    "I take it you never got inside the vault last night?"
    "I didn't have a chance. I heard you clumping through the garden just as I was starting to crack the lock."
    "You're a cat burgler, too? You pick locks? My, what a talented man."
    He decided to ignore the sarcasm. "I am not a cat burglar, but I've had to learn a few things about locks in the past."
    "Ah, yes. Your past," Mercy said with grim determination. "That's something I've been wanting to discuss with you. I think now is the time to do it."
    He felt suddenly uneasy. "Forget it, Mercy. My past isn't something I spend much time discussing with anyone." .
    "You'll discuss it with me. Now."
    "Is that right? Why should I?"
    "Because," she announced with gleeful satisfaction, "I'm going to blackmail you into it."
    Croft halted on the rocky trail. "You want to run that by me again?"
    "You heard me. I'm going to blackmail you for some answers to my questions. Either you talk or I'll blow the lid off your investigation. Gladstone will kick you out of the house so fast you'll never know what hit you."
    He stared at her. He could pick her up in one hand and dangle her over the edge of a ravine until she screamed in panic and she wouldn't be able to do a thing about it. She was as delicate as a flower, but she seemed to have absolutely no fear of him. Mercy didn't seem to realize the extent of her own vulnerability.
    Then Croft smiled faintly. She probably didn't realize
the
extent of her own integrity, either. She wouldn't betray him because deep down she was incapable of betrayal. Besides, she trusted him.
    "You're bluffing," Croft said finally. And with that he started down the narrow path toward the meadow.

----
Chapter ELEVEN

    Mercy was infuriated. So much for clever tactics.
    "How do you know I'm bluffing?" she demanded as she dashed down the small incline behind him.
    He looked back at her over his shoulder. "Watch your step. The flowers in these meadows are very delicate and they've got a very short growing season. Summer doesn't last long around here."
    "I know all about the fragility of mountain flora and fauna," she informed him stiffly. "I am not a complete idiot."
    He smiled and sat down on a nearby boulder, one of many that had been carelessly tumbled into a small heap at that end of me meadow. "I know you're not an idiot, Mercy, but sometimes you are a little rash or naive. Come over here and sit down and enjoy the flowers. This is something you don't see very often, a high mountain meadow in full bloom."
    "Have I told you that I really don't like it when you turn patronizing and start playing the intellectually superior male?"
    "You've probably mentioned it, but not within the last five minutes."
    Mercy eyed him warily as she walked over and sat down on a sun-warmed rock. Croft's dark hair was lightly ruffled by a breeze. He was wearing his black chinos and, as usual, a dark shirt. He had one knee drawn up and was resting his arm on it as he gazed out over the bright wonderland spread before them. His darkness was a vibrant counterpoint to the sunlight and color surrounding them.
    Something stirred in Mercy's mind, a sudden image of Croft gliding between two dimensions, his own and the one she inhabited. Like the ghost town they had passed on the way to Gladstone's estate, Croft didn't always seem completely in touch with this world. It was as if he was in it, but not always a part of it.
    He needed an anchor, Mercy thought with sudden insight, something to tie him firmly to the here and now. He could too easily detach himself and retreat into his own world, a world where everything could be comprehended in terms of complete and incomplete Circles. He had difficulty accepting the eccentricities, irrationalities and unpredictableness of those who inhabited the real world. But with a flash of insight Mercy suspected he had even more trouble accepting the possible existence of some of those qualities within himself.
    Mercy tore her gaze away from Croft and made herself study the landscape. She had to admit it was magnificent. Clumps of fragile wildflowers bloomed in bewildering profusion, giving their all in the short span of time allotted them. The grassy carpet in which they grew was a verdant green. Beyond the meadow snow glittered on distant peaks. The sun was warm on her shoulders.
    "Falconer priorities," Mercy said on a sigh.
    "What's that supposed to mean?"
    She shrugged. "Only that it's typical of you to be more concerned about