Copper Beach dl-1

by Jayne Ann Krentz

“Okay.” Sam shrugged and took a sip.

  Abby glared. “Don’t be dense. Do you realize that everyone in this diner, probably everyone in town, assumes that we’re involved in a relationship?”

  Sam struggled with that question for a few seconds and then gave up. “We are involved in a relationship.”

  “Maybe, but it’s complicated.” She tipped her head slightly, to indicate the crowded restaurant. “Your neighbors here don’t understand the nuances. They think we’re in a more personal relationship.”

  “Yeah.” Sam drank some more and lowered the mug. He smiled. “That, too.”

  She leaned forward. “I’m concerned that there will be some widespread misunderstanding here, Coppersmith. This is your home, not mine. What about the gossip?”

  “What about it? This is a small town and a small island. Gossip is the lifeblood of the community.”

  “You’re not taking this seriously, are you?”

  “What do you want me to do? Stand up and announce that we’re sleeping together but that we’re not involved in a personal relationship?”

  She sat back and drummed her fingers on the table. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “Relax. You don’t care what anyone around here thinks. Once this situation is finished, you’ll never see any of these people again, right?”

  She did another staccato drumroll and narrowed her eyes. “Right.”

  “Good. Glad we got that sorted out.”

  She gave him a steely smile. “Like my dad says in his book on modern marriage, communication is the key to a good relationship.”

  “Absolutely. Here comes Dixon’s water taxi.” Sam put down his mug, got to his feet and pulled some money out of his wallet. He dropped the bills on the table. “Time for you to meet the parents.”

  Abby slipped out from the booth and collected her tote. She walked side by side with Sam, past the curious stares and polite farewells.

  Brenda waved a casual good-bye. Abby wiggled her fingers in re­­sponse. Outside, on the sidewalk, Newton greeted her in his customary over-the-top style. She freed him from the post and wrapped the end of his leash around her wrist.

  They walked along Bay Street and watched the water taxi ease into the dock. There were only two passengers on board. The resemblance between Sam and the broad-shouldered, silver-haired man was unmistakable. Same fiercely etched features, same fiercely determined eyes, Abby thought. It was not all that hard to imagine Elias Coppersmith surviving a murder attempt and escaping an underground explosion with a cache of dangerous paranormal crystals. Not so hard to envision a man like this going on to found an empire like Coppersmith Inc., either.

  A trim, attractive woman with discreetly tinted blond hair stood beside Elias Coppersmith. Her hands were thrust deep into the pockets of her jacket.

  Abby looked at Sam. “Are both of your parents strong talents?”

  “Dad definitely has some serious sensitivity for the latent energy in crystals. But he isn’t nearly as strong as Judson and Emma and me. He can’t run a little psi through any of the stones the way we can, for example.”

  “What about your mother?”

  “I’d say Mom has above-average intuition, but what mother doesn’t? And she runs the Coppersmith Foundation like a forensic accountant. But I don’t think her ability could be described as psychic. She’s just very, very good when it comes to following the money.”

  “So where did you and your brother and sister get your talent for crystals?”

  “Dad says it must have come from farther back on the family tree. Coppersmiths have been involved in mining of one kind or another for generations.”

  “Sounds like you don’t buy that explanation.”

  “Let’s just say that Judson and Emma and I have our own theory. We worked it out a few years ago, but we never told Mom or Dad, because we didn’t want to upset them.”

  “Good grief. Surely you don’t think you aren’t your father’s offspring. You’ve got your father’s eyes, his bone structure…”

  Sam grinned. “Not that kind of theory. But forty years ago, when that explosion occurred in the Phoenix, there was a hell of a lot of paranormal radiation released. We know that Dad and Knox must have caught a lot of it.”

  “Oh, my gosh.” Abby felt her mouth fall open. She got it closed with an effort. “Are you telling me that you believe that the fallout from the explosion caused some kind of genetic mutation that manifested in you and your brother and sister?”

  “Genetics are extremely complicated, even when you’re dealing with the normal kind. We don’t know much at all about the paranormal aspects.”

  “True.”

  “Promise me you won’t say anything to Mom or Dad about the theory. Emma says they wouldn’t handle it well.”

  “Okay,” Abby said.

  Sam went along the dock and grabbed the line that Dixon tossed to him. Then he caught the second one. He secured the water taxi with a few efficient, expert moves, straightened and took his mother’s hand. Willow Coppersmith stepped lightly onto the dock. She gave Sam a quick maternal kiss, and then she turned to Abby with a warm smile.

  “You must be Abby,” she said.

  Abby smiled. “Yes.”

  She started to put out her hand, but Elias bounded out of the bobbing water taxi, interrupting the polite greeting. He gave her a head–to–toe survey. Then he grinned, cold satisfaction glittering in his eyes.

  “You got her.” He clapped Sam on the shoulder. “Nice work, son. If she’s half as good as Webber thought she was, we’re going to get that damn book at last.”

  Abby gave him her best professional smile, the one she reserved for the most eccentric clients. “Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Coppersmith.”

  26

  “YOU’LL HAVE TO FORGIVE MY HUSBAND,” WILLOW COPPERSMITH said. “Well, actually, you don’t have to forgive him for acting as if you’re just a useful employee that he can manipulate for his own purposes. But there is an explanation for his rudeness.”

  “I understand,” Abby said.

  They were sitting in the living room of the house that Sam’s parents had built for themselves. It was not only much newer, it was a lot cozier and warmer than the old house. The modern, two-story windows provided a spectacular view of the water and far more natural light than those in the old stone house.

  “To be honest, I thought Elias had abandoned the search for that old notebook,” Willow said. “Maybe it would be more accurate to say that I hoped he had given up on it. But after he got the call from his old partner, Quinn Knox, he became obsessed with finding it all over again.”

  “I did get that impression, yes.”

  “If he does locate it, I know that he won’t rest until he finds the crystals that went missing at the same time. He’ll never believe that they were buried in the explosion, not now, after this business of the notebook surfacing.”

  “It’s okay, Mrs. Coppersmith,” Abby said, sticking with her polished, professional tone.

  “Willow, please.”

  “Willow. The thing is, I’m accustomed to working for obsessed, difficult and eccentric clients. All part of the job, as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Ouch.” Willow grimaced. “We’re not just talking about Elias here, are we? You think Sam is a lot like his father in some ways.”

  “Well…”

  Willow sighed. “I prefer to use words like stubborn and determined rather than obsessed and difficult to describe them, but you’re right. They are good men, but I swear, once they set themselves an objective, it is almost impossible to make them rethink the whole idea.”

  “Not to worry, Mrs. Coppersmith,” Abby said. “I’ve worked with even stranger clients, believe me. Collectors of the paranormal are always somewhat outside the mainstream.”

  Willow narrowed her eyes. “So are those who deal in the paranormal.”

  Abby kept her smile in place. “Takes one to know one.”

  Willow gave her an assessing look.
“You’re trying to convince me that your relationship with my son is strictly business, aren’t you?”

  “A business arrangement is the basis of our association. Sam and I made a deal, you see. He’s trying to keep me from being kidnapped by some other collector who is after the notebook. In exchange, I’m trying to find the notebook for him. So far, he has upheld his end of the bargain. I’m still working on my half.”

  “If your relationship with my son is strictly business, I’m surprised you’re staying in the old house. That’s his personal residence.”

  “He had to stash me somewhere,” Abby pointed out. “There weren’t a lot of options. Someone did try to kidnap me, you know.”

  “Yes, I heard about what happened after you found Webber’s body. That must have been a terrifying experience.”

  Abby pursed her lips. “I wouldn’t say it ranked quite that high on my personal fear-and-panic meter. I reserve that category of terrifying for my step-grandmother. But the carjack incident definitely met the criteria for extremely alarming. Sam handled it brilliantly, though. Like I said, he is holding up his end of the deal.”

  Willow considered her with a thoughtful expression. “You are a very unusual woman, Abby.”

  “Just trying to do my job.”

  “Did Sam tell you that he’s had some experience investigating paranormal crimes?”

  “I think he said something about having done some work for the post office.”

  Willow’s eyes widened. “The post office?”

  “Never mind.” Abby smiled. “Inside joke. Yes, he mentioned his consulting work.”

  “He told you about those jobs?”

  “Not a lot,” Abby admitted. “Between you and me, I think he was trying to reassure me that he does know what he’s doing. Giving me his résumé, as it were.”

  Willow regarded her with a long, considering look. “Neither Sam nor Judson are in the habit of telling people about the nature of their consulting work. In fact, I would be willing to bet that Sam has never mentioned it to any of the other women he has been involved with in the past.”

  “To be clear, Sam and I are not exactly involved, at least not seriously involved. Not in the way you mean.”

  Willow brushed that aside. “I suppose you’ve heard about what happened to the last woman he dated.”

  “Hard not to know about it, under the circumstances. I got the first lecture on the subject from Dixon. Got another from a friend of mine who Googled Sam. Got the story from Sam. And last but not least, today I received yet another lecture on the subject from the waitress at the diner in town.”

  Willow’s lips thinned. “I hate to hear that everyone is still talking about it.”

  “I understand.”

  “You don’t seem concerned about the old rumors.”

  “Nope. Thaddeus Webber would never have sent me to Sam if he thought there was any danger involved. And my friend Gwen vouched for Sam.”

  “Who’s Gwen?”

  “She’s a psychic counselor. Reads auras.”

  “Good grief. You decided to trust my son because your friend claimed to be able to see his aura?”

  “Gwen is a genuine talent, and she is very, very good,” Abby said coolly. “But I can see that even though you’re married to a man who has a considerable amount of talent himself, and you’ve got two sons and a daughter with exceptional abilities, you don’t really want to buy into the whole paranormal thing any more than is absolutely necessary.”

  Willow grimaced. “I’ve always realized that my husband and Sam and Emma and Judson all have unusual sensitivities. But I prefer to think of their gifts as being more in the nature of very powerful intuition.”

  Abby smiled. “You’re okay with the concept of intuition?”

  “Yes, of course.” Willow moved a hand slightly. “I’m sure that most people have experienced a flash of intuition at one time or another in their lives. Unfortunately, they don’t always listen to their inner voice.”

  Abby smiled. “That’s true.”

  Willow’s brows came together in a severe expression. “But that doesn’t mean there is any need to resort to the concept of paranormal forces in order to explain my husband’s and my sons’ and daughter’s abilities.”

  “Okay,” Abby said.

  “I don’t want to debate the existence of the paranormal with you,” Willow said quietly. “I want to make sure you understand my son. Cassidy’s murder affected him very deeply. He did not realize that she was a complete fraud and had set him up until it was too late. He was heartbroken after he found the body.”

  “Well…”

  “Now I’m afraid he no longer trusts his own judgment or his heart. In the past few months, I have become increasingly concerned about him. He has retreated into himself and that old house of his more and more. He only leaves the island these days when he absolutely has to go into the Black Box lab or when he takes one of those dreadful jobs for that private contractor. I think he uses the work to distract himself. He is not engaged with life, if you know what I mean.”

  “Hmm.”

  “What?” Willow asked, her tone sharpening.

  “I agree with you that Sam has more or less imprisoned himself in the Copper Beach house. But it’s not because his heart is broken or because he’s afraid to love.”

  “No?” Willow watched her closely. “What, then?”

  “You have to see the situation from his point of view. As far as Sam is concerned, Cassidy was a victim.”

  “She was a thief.” Willow gripped the arm of her chair very tightly. “She seduced Sam so that she could steal the Phoenix crystals.”

  “He doesn’t see it that way. He’s the one who started the relationship and then continued it, breaking some unwritten rule about dating employees in the process. He blames himself for not getting a handle on the situation sooner. His heart isn’t broken. But he’s a man of honor, and he’s got an over-the-top, steel-clad sense of responsibility. Plus he’s just plain mad.”

  “He is not mad,” Willow snapped. “Don’t you dare say that.”

  “Sorry, I meant angry mad, not crazy mad. Poor choice of words. The thing is, it’s intolerable to him that such a crime was committed in his home. He’s been brooding over Cassidy’s murder because he hasn’t been able to bring the killer to justice.”

  “Good lord.” Willow took a long moment to absorb that information. “You may be right. None of us looked at it from that angle. We were all so certain that Cassidy broke his heart with her betrayal.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m sure it would take a lot more than that to break Sam’s heart. Frankly, I’m not certain it’s even possible.”

  “And here I was just starting to think that you knew Sam better than his own family does,” Willow said. “You have a few things to learn about him as well, Abby.”

  27

  ELIAS MATERIALIZED IN THE DOORWAY. “WELL? ANY MORE leads on that Milton character?”

  Newton, napping beside Abby’s chair, stirred, raised his head, and focused on Elias.

  “Maybe.” Abby pushed herself away from the glowing computer screen and got to her feet. “But if you keep interrupting me every five minutes, it will take me forever to follow up on them.”

  Elias beetled his brows. “I thought I made it clear, we don’t have a lot of time. You need to find Milton before he holds that auction. I don’t want to take the risk of losing that damn lab book.”

  “I’m doing my best, Mr. Coppersmith. But in the meantime, I’ve assured Milton that we will top any bid, and he has agreed to give us that option.”

  “If Lander Knox gets to him first, there won’t be an auction. He’ll murder the dealer the way he did Webber and take the notebook.”

  “I realize that we’re in a time crunch here. Which is why I would prefer to work without someone looking over my shoulder. But since you have interrupted me, I’m going to the kitchen to get some coffee.”

  She walked toward Elias. Newton sprang to his
feet and padded after her. Faced with the oncoming woman and dog, Elias reluctantly fell back into the hall. Abby slipped past him, Newton at her heels, and headed for the kitchen. Elias stalked after them.

  “What did you mean by ‘maybe’?” he demanded.

  “I meant maybe, as in maybe I have a couple of leads.” Abby walked into the kitchen. “You need to understand that I don’t usually work with dealers like Milton. I know how to contact him, thanks to Thaddeus and my friend Nick, but I don’t know anything else about him.”

  “Thaddeus is gone, but what about this Nick you mentioned? Does he deal with Milton?”

  “Yes, but I can’t ask him for more information.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because currently he’s my competition. He’s after the lab book, too. Knowing Nick, by now he’ll have lined up a client.”

  “Knox.”

  “It’s possible, but I think it’s unlikely,” Abby said.

  “Why?”

  “The clients in the deep end are more dangerous than the ones I usually work with, but Nick is not stupid. He takes precautions. Lander Knox is an unknown in the underground market. He’s not a regular collector. Nick wouldn’t want to take him on as a client, especially if he’s got options.”

  “Hah. Options like Hank Barrett or his son.”

  “The owners of Helicon Stone?” Abby picked up the coffeepot. “That’s a much more likely possibility. Can I pour you a cup?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “You’re so very welcome,” she murmured, going for excruciatingly gracious.

  Elias was oblivious to the sarcasm. He started to pace the kitchen. “Maybe I’ve been too focused on Lander Knox. No question that he’s after the lab book. But if Hank Barrett has heard the rumors, he or his son will be trying to find it as well. They might be a bigger problem than Knox, if for no other reason than that they have the money to pay top dollar.”

  Abby handed him a full mug as he stomped past her. “There are other problems with auctions like this. I think that Milton is reliable, but we have to allow for the possibility that the book he is going to auction off is a forgery.”