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Contents ( 37)
  1. Cockatiels at Seven
  2. Acknowledgments
  3. One
  4. Two
  5. Three
  6. Four
  7. Five
  8. Six
  9. Seven
  10. Eight
  11. Nine
  12. Ten
  13. Eleven
  14. Twelve
  15. Thirteen
  16. Fourteen
  17. Fifteen
  18. Sixteen
  19. Seventeen
  20. Eighteen
  21. Nineteen
  22. Twenty
  23. Twenty-One
  24. Twenty-Two
  25. Twenty-Three
  26. Twenty-Four
  27. Twenty-Five
  28. Twenty-Six
  29. Twenty-Seven
  30. Twenty-Eight
  31. Twenty-Nine
  32. Thirty
  33. Thirty-One
  34. Thirty-Two
  35. Thirty-Three
  36. Thirty-Four
  37. Swan for the Money

Library of Congress Catalog Card Number 2008013626

ISBN: 0-312-37716-9

EAN: 978-0-312-37716-8

Printed in the United States of America

Minotaur hardcover edition / July 2008

St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / July 2009

St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

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Acknowledgments

Authors are apt to compare their books to children—and like children, books often require a small village’s worth of people to bring them into existence. I’d like to thank . . .

All the folks at St. Martin’s Minotaur, who publish the book to begin with, and then work diligently to get it into readers’ hands. I owe a debt of gratitude to Andrew Martin, Pete Wolverton, Hector DeJean, Lauren Manzella, Toni Plummer, and especially my editor, Ruth Cavin, who plucked Meg’s first adventure out of the entries to that year’s Malice Domestic/St. Martin’s Press Best First Traditional Mystery contest and said “Yes!”

My agent, Ellen Geiger, and the staff of the Frances Goldin Literary Agency, who take care of the business side of things so I can focus on the writing; to the staff at Curtis-Brown, especially Dave Barbor, who helps make Meg international.

My name twin, Donna Andrews of Maryland, who graciously offered to help with the proofing.

My writing group, the Rector Lane Irregulars, for many evenings of critique, cheerleading, and friendship: Carla Coupe, Ellen Crosby, Laura Durham, Peggy Hanson, Val Patterson, Noreen Wald, and Sandi Wilson. And the other friends who read drafts, listen to me brainstorm, and generally provide moral support: Kathy Deligianis, Suzanne Frisbee, David Niemi, Dina Willner, and all the Teabuds.

The friends who let me borrow their canine friends: Barb Goffman for Scout, Suzanne Frisbee for Paris and Julie, and Tracey Young and Bill Sommers for the inimitable Spike.

My family, for being not nearly as much like Meg’s family as most people think. And especially my nephews, Aidan Jay Andrews and Liam Stuart Andrews, who helped inspire Timmy and even let me borrow Kiki.

One

“Meg, are you busy?” Dad asked.

I didn’t turn around. The iron rod heating in my forge was approaching white hot, which meant it was the perfect temperature for working. So instead of answering, I gripped the rod with my tongs, pulled it out, slapped it onto the anvil with a satisfying clang, and began hammering one end into a point. Okay, I confess, I showboated a bit, just to emphasize how very busy I was. I worked faster than I normally would, with just a little flourish as I turned the rod, left, right, left, right, over and over, shaping the point. Then I moved an inch and a half back and began shaping and narrowing another area.

When I’d done as much as I could without heating the metal again, I plunged the rod abruptly into the water bucket, sending up a cloud of faintly acrid steam. I closed my eyes as I breathed in the familiar, strangely soothing odor. Or maybe it wasn’t the odor I found soothing. When you’re feeling annoyed, whacking things with a two-pound hammer works infinitely better than counting to ten.