Witchcraft

passive, submissive men."
    "Witch," he rasped huskily, pulling her down on top of him. By noon that day Starke had a preliminary report on the man who had attacked Kimberly the previous night. He sat with Kimberly and Cavenaugh and told them what little he knew. "This is all unofficial at this point. Cranston gave me the information off the record. The guy's name is Nick Garwood. He's got a record that goes back to his kindergarten days. Questioned twice last year during an investigation of a stabbing death in L.A. The police down there think it was a contract killing. Right now Garwood is busy demanding his rights and a lawyer but Cranston thinks they can get him to talk."
    "Any word on the source of that dagger?" Cavenaugh asked calmly, as if discussing a business matter. Kimberly was amazed at the matter-of-fact way he and Starke were handling this whole thing. As if they had dealt with such things often in the past. "Not yet. But Cranston let me take a look at it. It's not a cheap, stamped out knife, Dare. The handle is genuine silver and it's heavily embossed. Looks like some kind of ceremonial thing. A collector's item. Not the kind of knife a punk would use to carry out a neat, tidy contract killing. It's-" he slid an apologetic glance at Kimberly. "-it's not exactly an efficient sort of weapon. "Lucky for me," Kimberly tossed back smoothly. "Lucky for all of us," Cavenaugh grated. "Any theories on how he got inside the gate without triggering the alarms?" Starke shifted his gaze to the garden outside the study window. "Dare, the only thing I can think of is that he somehow snuck in with the other guests. I don't see how, but it must have happened that way. I've been so damned careful ...!" Kimberly saw how harsh Starke was being on himself and felt compelled to interject.
    "Is it possible someone inside, one of the guests, let him in?"
    Cavenaugh and Starke both turned to look at her. "Do you realize what you're saying, Kim?" Cavenaugh finally asked gently. "That someone you know is behind this?" "Yes, I realize it. It's just a passing thought." She smiled bleakly. "I guess I've written one too many crime novels." Cavenaugh shook his head. "Don't apologize. It's something that has to be considered. Starke and I went over that ground this morning. We couldn't come up with anything useful, though. Everyone here last night is a good, solid, substantial citizen of the community."
    True, Kimberly reflected. In fact, realistically speaking, the newest people on the scene locally were Cavenaugh and Starke. It was getting very involved, she decided. "With any luck the authorities will get that Nick Garwood to talk," she offered firmly. "Perhaps he's the only villain."
    "Don't forget the woman. The one who held Scott captive."
    "True. But if she's a girlfriend of Garwood's, it should be easy to trace her." Starke fell into a musing silence. "What doesn't fit in all this is the weird part," Cavenaugh put in bluntly. "The rose with the needle in it, the silver dagger, the robe Garwood was wearing. None of that fits a straight kidnap or murder attempt."
    "I know," Starke muttered in dark frustration. Cavenaugh leaned forward in sudden intensity. "Starke, see if you can get Cranston to give you a photograph of that dagger."
    "Sure, but why?"
    "You and I imported a lot of odd things during our time, pal. We had to get them appraised occasionally.
    I've got a lot of contacts who know a lot about weird items. I want to show some of them a photo of that dagger." Starke was on his feet, heading for the door. "I'll get on it right away, Dare." The man was obviously grateful to have something useful to do. At the door he paused for a moment to glance back at Cavenaugh . "Are you still going to take Kim into San Francisco tomorrow?" Kimberly wondered at the disapproval in his voice but Cavenaugh ignored it. "We'll be leaving in the afternoon. As soon as I finish that meeting with the marketing people. Any objections?"
    "Would they do any good?" "No," Cavenaugh said harshly. "I know what I'm doing." "I'll see you later," Starke said and walked out the door. Startled at the unexpected discord between the two men, Kimberly frowned at Cavenaugh . "What was all that about?" He switched his emerald-hard gaze to her. "Forget it, Kim. Like I told Starke, I know what I'm doing."
    "I never said you didn't, but-" A sudden, bleak thought struck her and she went on in a tight whisper, "Doesn't Starke approve of ... of us? Is he trying to warn