On top of that, she no longer had any confidence that she would find the answer to the key in the stacks of books shed accumulated. Shed read and read, followed every lead, but she didnt seem to be any closer to a concrete theory, much less a solution.
And if she failed, what then? Not only would she let down her friends, her brother, her lover. Not only would she disappoint Rowena andPitte , but her inadequacy would doom the Daughters of Glass until the next triad was chosen.
How could she live with that? Depressed now, she tossed a quart of milk in her basket. Shed seen the Box of Souls with her own eyes, ached to watch those blue lights battering frantically at their prison walls.
If she couldnt find the key, slide it into the lock as Malory had done with the first, everything theyd done would be for nothing.
And Kane would win.
“Over my dead body,” she declared, then jolted when someone touched her arm.
“Sorry.” The woman laughed. “Sorry. It looked like you were arguing with yourself. I usually dont get to that point until I hit the frozen dessert section.”
“Well, you know. Whole milk, low fat, two percent? Its a jungle in here.”
Then the woman angled her cart so another shopper could get through.
Pretty, brunette, late thirties, Dana observed, trying to place her. “Sorry. I know you, dont I? I just cant place it.”
“You helped me and my son a couple of weeks ago in the library.” She reached for a gallon of milk. “He had a report due the next day for American history class.”
“Oh right, right.” Dana made the effort to tuck her dark thoughts away and answer the smile. “U.S. history report, Mrs.Janesburg , seventh grade.”
“Thats the one. Im Joanne Reardon.” She offered her hand. “And the life you saved was my son, Matts. I stopped back in the library last week to thank you again, but I was told you werent there anymore.”
“Yeah.” That brought some of the dark thoughts back into play. “You could say I retired abruptly from library service.”
“Im sorry to hear that. You were terrific with Matt. And you made a big difference. He got an A. Well, an A-minus, but anything with Matts name on it that includes an A is cause for wild celebration in our house.”
“Thats great.” And particularly good to hear at the end of a long day. “He mustve done a good job. Mrs.Janesburg doesnt pass out the As like doughnuts.”
“He did, which he wouldnt have done if you hadnt pointed him in the right direction. More, if you hadnt found the right key to turn in his head. Im glad I got the chance to tell you.”
“So am I. You picked up my day considerably.”
“Im sorry about whatever happened with the job. Its none of my business, but if you ever need a personal reference, you can sure have mine.”
“Thanks. I mean that. Actually, some friends and I are starting our own business. Im going to be opening a bookstore in a month or so. Probably a little more „or so, but were putting it all together.”
“A bookstore?” Joannes hazel eyes sharpened with interest. “In town?”
“Yeah. A combination thing. A bookstore, an arts and crafts gallery, and a beauty salon. Were fixing up a house over on Oak Leaf.”
“That sounds fabulous. What an idea. All that in one place, and in town. I only live about a mile and a half from there. I can promise to be one of your regular customers.”
“If we keep up the pace, well have it up and running for the holiday season.”
“Terrific. You wouldnt be hiring, would you?”
“Hiring?” Dana eased back, considered. “Are you looking for a job?”
“Im thinking about slipping back into the workforce, but I want something close to home, something fun, and something with fairly flexible hours. What youd call a fantasy job. Especially when you consider I havent worked outside the home in over a decade, have only recently become computer literate—actually, it may be a stretch to say that—and my main job experience was as a legal secretary for a mid-level law firm in Philadelphia—where I did not shine—right out of high school.”
She laughed at herself. “Im not giving myself a very glowing recommendation.”
“You like to read?”
“Give me a book and a couple hours of quiet, and alls right with the world. Im also good with people, and Im not looking for a big salary. My husband has a good job, and were secure, but Id like to pull in a little of my own. And Id like to do something to earn it that doesnt have anything to do with laundry, cooking, or browbeating an eleven-year-old into picking up his room.”
“I find those excellent qualifications in a potential employee. Why dont you come by the building sometime. Its the house with the blue porch. You can take a look at the place, and well talk some more.”
“This is great. I will. Wow.” She let out a laugh. “Im so happy I ran into you. It mustve been fate.”
Fate, Dana mused when theyd parted ways. She hadnt been giving enough credit to fate. Needing to restock her pantry had brought her here, to the dairy section of her local supermarket.
A small thing, she thought as she continued through the aisles. An everyday sort of thing. But hadnt it put her here at just the right moment? Bumped her right into a woman who might become another spoke on the wheel of her life?
And more than that. Shed bumped into the woman whod said exactly what shed needed to hear.
You found the right key to turn in his head.
Was it just coincidence that Joanne had used that phrase? Dana wasnt going to blow it off as coincidence. No, her key—the right key—was knowledge.
She would find it, Dana promised herself. She would find it by keeping her mind open.
Chapter Thirteen
IN Danas opinion, there were a lot of things you could say about Bradley Charles Vane IV.
He was fun, smart, and great to look at. He could, depending on his mood and the circumstances, present a polished, urbane image that made her think of James Bond ordering a vodka martini in Monte Carlo—and then turn on a dime and become a complete goofball ready to spray seltzer down your pants.
He could discuss French art films with the passion of a man who didnt require the subtitles, and be just as fervent in a debate over whether ElmerFudd or Yosemite Sam was a more worthy adversary for Bugs.
Those were just some of the things she loved about Brad.
Another was his house.
Townerscalled it the Vane House, or the River House, and indeed it had been both for more than four decades.
Brads father had built it, a testimony to the lumber that formed the foundation of the Vane empire. Using that lumber, and with a skilled eye for the surroundings, B. C. Vane III had created both the simple and the spectacular.
The golden frame house spread along the riverbank, edging itself with spacious decks and charming terraces. There were a number of rooflines and angles, all of them balanced into a creative harmony that showcased the beauty of wood.
It offered lovely views of the river or the trees or the clever hodgepodge of gardens.
It wasnt the sort of place you looked at and thought, Money. Rather, you thought, Wow.
Shed spent some time there, tagging along after Flynn when she was a kid and tagging along with Jordan when she was older. It was a place where shed always felt comfortable. It seemed to her it had been created with comfort as its first priority and style running a close second.
Another thing you could say about Brad, she decided, was that he didnt skimp on the refreshments when he had a gathering.
It wasnt anything fancy, at least it wasnt presented that way. Just some sort of incredible pasta salad that made her contemplate going back for more, a lot of interesting finger food, ham slices, and some dense, dark bread for sandwich making.
There was a round of Brie skirted by fat red raspberries, and crackers nearly thin enough to see through that crunched with satisfying delicacy at every bite.
There was beer, there was wine, there were soft drinks and bottled water.
She already knew she wasnt going to resist the mini cream puffs mounded in a tempting island on a platter the size of New Jersey.
All this was spread out casually in the great room, where a fire snapped and sizzled and the furniture was the kind you could happily sink into for weeks at a time.
Not fancy, not so you felt like you couldnt rest your feet on the coffee table. Just classy. That was Bradley Vane, right down to the ground.
Conversation buzzed and hummed around her, and she was drifting into a happy coma brought on by good food, warmth, and contentment.
Or would, she thought, ifZoe would stop squirming beside her.
“Youre going to have to do something about those ants in your pants,” Dana told her.
“Sorry.”Zoe shot another look toward the archway. “Im just worried about Simon.”
“Why? He had a plate with enough food piled on it to feed a starving battalion, and hes hunkered down in the game room. A nine-year-oldswet dream.”
“Theres so much stuff in this house,”Zoe whispered. “Expensive stuff. Art and glassware and china and things . Hes not used to being around all of this.”
Neither am I, she thought, and struggled not to squirm again.
“What if he breaks something?”
“Well.” Lazily, Dana popped another raspberry into her mouth. “Then I guessBradll beat him to a bloody pulp.”
“He hits children ?”Zoe exclaimed.
“No. Jesus,Zoe , get a grip. The place has survived nine-year-old boys before—at least three of them are alive and in this room. Relax. Have a glass of wine. And while youre at it, get me some more raspberries.”
Half a glass,Zoe thought and got to her feet. But even as she reached for the bottle, Brad lifted it.
“You look a little distracted.” He poured the wine into a glass, handed it to her. “Is there a problem?”
“No.” Damn it, shed only wanted half a glass. Why didnt he stay out of her way? “I was just thinking I should check on Simon.”
“Hes fine. He knows where everything is in the game room. But Ill walk you back if you want to take a look,” Brad added when she frowned.
“No. Im sure hes fine. Its very nice of you to let him play.” She knew her voice was stiff and tight, but she couldnt help it.
“That, rumor has it, is what a game rooms for.”
Since Brads voice echoed her tone,Zoe simply nodded. “Um. Dana, she wanted some more. Of these.” Mortified for no reason she could name, she scooped some of the berries into a bowl, then carried them and her wine back to the couch. .
“Pompous ass,” she said under her breath and had Dana blinking at her.
“Brad?” Dana snatched the bowl of raspberries. “Sorry, honey, you got the wrong number.”
Jordan wandered over, sat on the arm of the couch beside Dana and stole a couple of berries before she could stop him.
“Get your own.”
“Yours are better.” He reached out to play with her hair. “So, howd you get this blond stuff in here?”
“I didnt.Zoe did.”
Nipping one more berry, he eased forward to look past Dana, wink atZoe . “Nice job.”
“Any time you need a haircut, its on the house.”
“Ill remember that.” He sat back again. “So, Im sure youre all wondering why weve brought you here tonight,” he began and made Dana laugh.
“Now theres a pompous ass.” But she laid a hand on his thigh. “I guess since were here to talk about the key, and Im the one whos supposed to find it, Ill start.”
Handing Jordan what was left of the berries, she pushed herself off the couch and snagged her wineglass from the coffee table. Even as she took the first step, Jordan slid down into her seat. He gave her a quick grin and draped his arm behindZoe over the back of the couch.
“Come here often?” he askedZoe .
“I would have, if Id known youd be here, handsome.”
“You guys are just a riot,” Dana muttered, then eased past a frowning Brad to the wine bottle. What the hell, she wasnt driving.
“Now, if everybodys all comfy and cozy?” She paused, sipped her wine. “My key deals-with knowledge, or truth. Im not sure the words are interchangeable, but both, either, or a combination of them applies to my quest. Theres also a connection to the past, the now, the future. Im taking this, after some fiddling around and dead-ending, to be personal, as applies to me.”
“I think youre right about that,” Malory put in. “Rowena stresses that were the keys. The three of us. And mine was personal. If were going to consider a pattern, thats part of it.”
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