“Son of a bitch!” He pounded the wall.

“Maybe this once she’s going to be sensible,” Mac said hopefully.

“Don’t count on it, Mac.”

“It’s not her?”

They ran together to her room and tried the door, but it was still locked. They kicked it in together.

The room was empty.

The sound of the plane overhead brought Lillian out of her room, pounding down the stairs and running outside, through the freezing wet grass. She reached up to the sky as if she could pull Ashley Wakefield back down to earth, but she felt only the raw wind blowing through her. Where was Ashley off to now? She wished she hadn't goaded her into looking at Judith’s portrait. Why couldn’t Judith have thrown those stupid jewels into the ocean thirty years ago? Then, Lillian thought as she ran breathlessly toward the cliff, none of this would be happening. The money, the Liechtenstein trust itself, was all right—innocuous enough. Money couldn’t be traced or remembered the way jewels could, and the Swiss were so dependably close-mouthed. Ashley and David could have gone on being rich and feeling warmhearted toward their mysterious benefactor...their mother. Judith would have been happy with that course of events; she would have loved the drama of it all.

As she came to the cliff, the Cessna dipped to the right, as if mocking them all, and disappeared from view.

And when Lillian turned, Mac was there.

“I’d hoped I’d manage to avoid you,” he said coldly.

He hadn’t changed, she thought He was still straight and tall and handsome and so self-righteous. Among the many who’d laughed at her ambitions, he’d been the worst. “How can you be a reporter, lovely Lil? You don’t even know which side Hungary was on in World War II.” The bastard! The problem was, she really hadn’t. He’d goaded her into finding out, studying, learning, asking questions, stretching herself. Of course, that hadn’t been his intention.

“Mac, I need to talk to you.”

“Save your energy.”

She touched his arm. “Leave him alone, Mac— please. Let him do what he has to do.”

“And what’s that, Lillian?” He smirked in disgust. “It’s amazing to me that after all that’s happened, after everything he’s done to you, you can still want to protect him. My God, Lillian, don’t be so pathetic.”

“Mac, you’re wrong. He’s not what you think he is.”

Mac’s arms dropped to his sides, a small gesture, but it made him seem more human, more tired, and Lillian bit her lip, hoping she wasn’t the one who was wrong. He sighed, the anger going out of him. “God knows I can’t hate you anymore, Lillian. Did he tell you to stop me?” He smiled at her moment’s discomfort, reading into it. “I thought as much. Well, tell him you tried.”

He started into a stand of pines, but she couldn’t let him go. Shivering in the early morning cold, she ran after him. Her toe caught a stone, but she ignored the stab of pain. “Why go after him?” she called softly. “Tell me, Mac. Is revenge worth this kind of risk?”