Smoke in Mirrors

or she was moving quickly, as if afraid of being caught.
    A moment later the rustling sounds ceased. The faint echo of footsteps hurrying away through the bookstacks announced that the intruder had departed.
    She waited until she heard the footsteps go past the hall door before she went to it and opened it very carefully.
    She stuck her head out in the corridor just in time to see Julie Bromley turn the corner and disappear down the main staircase.
    She thought about that for a moment and then went back to the other servants’ door.
    With the card catalog hard against the wall on the opposite side, it was impossible to push the wooden panel inward toward the office. She had to pull it toward her.
    She had almost decided to go into the library to find a ruler or some other object she could use to pry the door open when she noticed the small depression in the wooden panel. It was just the right size to allow her to set her fingers into it.
    She tugged gently. The door groaned, reluctant to move on its aged and rusty hinges. But in the end she got it open.
    She found herself looking at the solid wooden back of the tall card catalog. When she aimed the flashlight at the floor she saw the bracelet.
    With trembling fingers she reached down to pick up the slender band of gold links. She didn’t need to see thename inscribed on the small gold plaque to identify the bracelet. She recognized it immediately.
    She tightened her fingers around the strand of gold and closed the panel. She went to the other door and let herself out of the dark stairwell into the hall.
    A moment later she was back in the library office. She looked around, examining things closely. A few items were askew on the desk. Nothing obvious. She probably wouldn’t have noticed the new position of the pen and the pad of paper if she hadn’t been looking for trouble.
    She pulled open the bottom drawer in the desk and removed her satchel. When she undid the clasp and looked inside she saw at once that the contents had been disturbed.
    She took out her wallet, opened it and quickly counted the cash inside. It was all there. So were her credit cards.
    But if Julie Bromley had not come in here to help herself to some easy money, why had she searched the office?

    The restlessness drove him out of his workshop late that afternoon. Wrench looked up from his empty food dish.
    “Want to go for a ride?” Thomas said.
    Wrench trotted briskly toward the front door. Thomas picked up his keys, the binoculars and his jacket and they left.
    Outside, Wrench bounded up into the passenger seat of the SUV and took up his usual position, riding shotgun. Thomas got behind the wheel and fired up the engine.
    They drove to the abandoned cottage near Alex Rhodes’s house, parked the SUV behind the old structure, got out and locked up.
    Together they made their way through the wet trees to the vantage point Thomas had discovered yesterday with Leonora.

    Wrench amused himself investigating scents and smells while Thomas settled down with the binoculars.
    He wasn’t sure what he expected to discover today. He had just needed to get out of the house for a while. Spying on Rhodes was as good a way to pass the time as any.
    An hour later he was about ready to head back to the SUV with Wrench when a small, battered Ford drove into the front yard of the cottage.
    A young woman dressed in jeans and a red leather jacket got out of the car. Her long hair was caught back in a ponytail.
    “Not his usual kind of client,” Thomas said to Wrench. “Judging by that old beater she’s driving, I don’t think she can afford his antistress formula. So what’s she doing here?”

    He heard her car in his driveway just as he was about to check the living room window for the twelfth time to see if the lights had come on in her cottage on the other side of the cove.
    The realization that she had come here on her own volition sent a rush of pleasure through him. The uneasy sensation that had been worrying at him all day faded beneath the onslaught of anticipation.
    “Okay. All right. This is good, Wrench. This is a very positive sign.”
    Wrench was already on his feet, heading toward his pile of personal possessions.
    Thomas opened the front door. Leonora came up the steps looking tense, not like a woman who wished to engage in acts of wild sexual abandon. She clutched something in her hand.
    “What’s wrong?” he asked.
    “I found this today.” Leonora dropped a gold braceletinto his