The Welcoming

local police.” Conby put his hand over the receiver. Roman heard him murmur something that was answered by light laughter.
    “We’re using our influence to lengthen the procedure,” Conby continued. “I’ll be flying out there on Monday. By Tuesday afternoon I should be checked into the inn. I’m told I’ll have a room overlooking a fish pond. It sounds very quaint.”
    “I want your word that Charity will be left out of this.”
    “As I explained before, if she’s innocent she has nothing to worry about.”
    “It’s not a matter of
if.
” Struggling to hold his temper, Roman crushed out his cigarette. “She is innocent. We’ve got it on record.”
    “On the word of a whimpering little bookkeeper.”
    “She was damn near killed, and she doesn’t even know why.”
    “Then keep a closer eye on her. We have no desire to see Miss Ford harmed, or to involve her any more deeply than necessary. There’s a police officer out there who shares the same passionate opinion of Miss Ford as you do. Sheriff Royce managed to trace you to us.”
    “How?”
    “He’s a smart cop with connections. He has a cousin or brother-in-law or some such thing with the Bureau. He wasn’t at all pleased at being left in the dark.”
    “I’ll bet.”
    “I imagine he’ll be paying you a visit before long. Handle him carefully, DeWinter, but handle him.”
    Just as Roman heard the phone click in his ear the office door opened. For once, Roman thought, Conby was right on target. He replaced the receiver before settling back in his chair.
    “Sheriff.”
    “I want to know what the hell’s going on around here, Agent DeWinter.”
    “Close the door.” Roman pushed back in the chair and considered half a dozen different ways of handling Royce. “I’d appreciate it if you’d drop the ‘Agent’ for now.”
    Royce just laid both palms on the surface of the desk. “I want to know what a federal agent is doing undercover in my territory.”
    “Following orders. Sit down?” He indicated a chair.
    “I want to know what case you’re working on.”
    “What did they tell you?”
    Royce snorted disgustedly. “It got to the point where even my cousin started giving me the runaround, DeWinter, but I’ve got to figure that your being here had something to do with Charity being damn near run down yesterday.”
    “I’m here because I was assigned here.” Roman waited a moment, sending Royce a long, direct look. “But my first priority is keeping Charity safe.”
    Royce hadn’t been in law enforcement for nearly twenty years without being able to take the measure of a man. He took Roman’s now, and was satisfied. “I got a load of bull from Washington about her being under investigation.”
    “She was. Now she’s not. But she could be in trouble. Are you willing to help?”
    “I’ve known that girl all her life.” Royce took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. “Why don’t you stop asking fool questions and tell me what’s going on?”
    Roman briefed him, pausing only once or twice to allow Royce to ask questions. “I don’t have time to get into any more specifics. I want to know how many of your men you can spare Thursday morning.”
    “All of them,” Royce said immediately.
    “I only want your most experienced. I have information that Block will not only be bringing the counterfeit money, but also a man who’ll register as Jack Marshall. His real name is Vincent Dupont. A week ago he robbed two banks in Ontario, killed a guard and wounded a civilian. Block will smuggle him out of Canada in the tour group, keep him here for a couple of days, then send him by short routes to South America. For his travel service to men like Dupont he takes a nice stiff fee. Both Dupont and Block are dangerous men. We’ll have agents here at the inn, but we also have civilians. There’s no way we can clear the place without tipping them off.”
    “It’s a chancy game you’re playing.”
    “I know.” He thought of Charity dozing upstairs. “It’s the only way I know how to play it.”

Chapter 9
    Charity drove back to the inn after dropping a trio of guests at the ferry. She was certain it was the most beautiful morning she’d ever seen. After the most wonderful night of her life, she thought. No, two of the most wonderful nights of her life.
    Though she’d never considered herself terribly romantic, she’d always imagined what it would be like to really be in love. Her daydreams hadn’t come