“You shouldn’t,” Ashley said smoothly.

Balaton grimaced, as if she had uttered a self-evident but nevertheless unpleasant truth. “My daughter has a stressful career. She is ambitious and clever, but occasionally it becomes necessary for her to...crack. It relieves the stress.”

“I see.”

“You understand.”

No, she didn’t, but she let it slide. “Tell me, Mr. Balaton, do you believe the jewels I wore in the You photographs belong to your family?”

He laughed. “No, of course not.”

“Then your daughter made a mistake?”

“A terrible one, yes.”

“Well, I suppose we all make mistakes. Do you have any idea why Mr. Crockett has lured me up here? He seems to be a man of many mysteries.”

Again Balaton laughed, and his warm brown eyes crinkled at the corners, the only hint of his age. “Yes, that’s our Crockett. I’m afraid, however, he hasn’t shared his strategy with me, but I can only say that I am delighted to have your company. It’s a pleasure, Miss Wakefield.”

That, she knew, was supposed to change the subject, but she’d always been a tenacious sort. “Do you suppose he recognized the Balaton jewels, too?”

The Hungarian’s face froze for an instant, but he recovered quickly and smiled. “That would be impossible, Miss Wakefield. As I have explained to my daughter many, many times, the Balaton jewels are a myth.”

“But your wife wore the diamond-and-pearl tiara and choker the night you announced your engagement in Vienna.”

He grew rigid. “A diamond-and-pearl tiara and choker. There are so many, you understand. Please, if you’ll excuse me?”

Her smile sparkled. “Of course.”

When he’d walked off, clearly displeased with her, Jeremy touched her elbow. “Go easy.”

“That was going easy,” she muttered. “Arrogant son of a bitch. I’d like to start knocking some heads together around here and get some answers. How stupid do they think I am?”

“If they’re smart, they won’t think you’re stupid at all.” Jeremy turned to the cherry table behind them and poured her a glass of white wine from a simple crystal decanter. “They’re all playing each other for answers. My guess is they’ve been nursing their own ideas and suspicions, and now they’re trying to find out if they’re right without having to commit themselves—or maybe expose themselves. I think Crockett’s gotten you and Balaton and Lillian Parker here together to see what would happen.”

“He’s an old crank.”

“But I wouldn’t underestimate him.”

She scoffed. “All we need now are Mac and Barky.”

“I wouldn’t be at all surprised if they’re lurking outside in the shadows.”

“Spooks that they are.”

Jeremy gave her a look of surprise. “You’re going to survive this, aren’t you?”

She grinned. “Damn right.”

Even, she thought, if she turned out to be the biological daughter of a legendary film actress and a Hungarian count-turned-corporate executive. The hell with them all, she thought with sudden vehemence. She was Barky’s kid.

She noticed Lillian Parker standing alone in the far corner of the big room, next to a spinet piano that looked unused. She was a woman who had interviewed heads of state, fanatical terrorists, generals and half the intellectual heavyweights of the twentieth century. She was tough minded and incisive, but tonight, Ashley thought, the hard-edged demeanor was all a facade. Deep down, Lillian Parker was unnerved and very shaken.