Wildest Hearts

drawings.”

    “He never mentioned that,” Joanna said softly.

    “His drawings were wonderful. I'd love to show you some. Wait…maybe there are still a few left in one of the drawers.” Annie started opening the desk drawers. She saw a small, flat object in the second one. “Here's something.”

    “A drawing?” Joanna came closer.

    “No.” Annie frowned as she removed the object from the drawer. “It's a diskette. There's a label on it.”

    “What does it say?” Joanna came closer, a curious expression in her eyes.

    Annie stared down at the label. She couldn't believe what she was reading. “‘Annie or Joanna, if you find this, take it to Oliver Rain. He'll know what to do with it.’”

    “My God,” Joanna whispered. “What on earth do you suppose is on that diskette?”

    “I don't know.” Annie sat down abruptly in the nearest chair. Her pulse was suddenly pounding. She frowned intently as she reread the simple message. “But I think we had better do exactly what it says. I'll give this to Oliver as soon as he gets home tomorrow night.”

    Joanna slid her hands inside the sleeves of her robe. “I don't know about you, but I just felt a strange chill go down my spine.”

    “I know what you mean.” Annie looked up. “Joanna, you don't suppose there's any connection between this and Daniel's disappearance, do you?”

    “How could there be?” But the uncertainty in Joanna's eyes told its own story. “His plane went down at sea. How could there be any connection between the accident and that note on the diskette?”

    “I don't know. I guess my imagination is running wild. I wonder if we could find a way to read this before Oliver gets back.”

    “I doubt it,” Joanna said. “Knowing Daniel, if he meant for only Oliver to read it, he would have taken precautions. Whatever is on that diskette is probably protected with a password or a code of some kind.”

    “You're right,” Annie agreed. After all, Daniel had been an electronic security expert. He'd know about things like codes and passwords. And so would Oliver. “I hope Oliver doesn't get delayed for another day down in California.”

    Annie had the diskette in her shoulder bag when she strode into Wildest Dreams at ten-fifteen the next morning.

    Ella popped up from behind the counter. She was sporting green hair today. “You don't look rested and refreshed, boss.”

    “What did you expect? I just had a two-hour drive. I need coffee.” Annie tossed her purse into a drawer under the counter. “Anything exciting happen yesterday afternoon?”

    “Not unless you count another visitation from Raphaela. She's in a panic over last-minute preparations for her big night at the Shore residence.”

    “That's right. Tonight is the evening of the benefit, isn't it?”

    “Uh-huh. She bopped in here three times yesterday trying to make up her mind about what to use from our shop. She's torn between the folding screen with the jungle scene on it and the carousel. I expect she'll be in at any minute to make the final decision.”

    The front door of the shop crashed open. Annie turned her head. “Speak of the devil.”

    Raphaela swept into the room, a vision in a red swing dress and a red heels. “Darlings, I'm back.”

    “Make a decision, Raphaela?” Annie asked.

    “You'll be glad to know I've made up my mind. It's got to be the carousel. No question about it. It will be the perfect counterpoint for the neo-deco theme I'm using in the solarium.”

    Annie glanced around the room at all the bright, whimsical objects on display. “You're sure you don't want to go with the paneled screen?”

    “No, darling. The carousel will be perfect.” Raphaela surveyed her choice with evident satisfaction. “I'll have someone drop by and pick it up this afternoon.”

    “How did the design work turn out?” Annie inquired.

    “It will be my finest hour, if I may say so. The Shore residence will look positively fabulous tonight. I do wish you could see it.”

    Ella grinned. “Fat chance. To get on the Shore's guest list, you'd have to give at least five or ten grand a year to that arts foundation of theirs.”

    “Personally, I give to the food bank and the homeless shelters,” Annie remarked. “I figure patronizing the arts is for the very wealthy.”

    Raphaella arched her finely penciled brows. “I've got news for you,Mrs. Oliver Rain . You are now counted among Seattle's richest citizens.”

    Annie felt a stab of