Before he could make up his mind, though, Tomlinson entered the room. The band immediately broke into a brassy fanfare.

B. Franklin Tomlinson was dressed as Superman, in a blue muscle suit with a big S emblazoned on its chest, and a red cape hanging from his shoulders. Grinning from ear to ear, he planted his fists on his hips and shouted, “Up, up, and awaaay!”

Everyone laughed and applauded. Amy hurried to his side and even his father allowed a grin to crack his stern façade.

Tomlinson began working the room, shaking hands and chatting a few moments with each of the guests. With Amy close beside him. They make a great couple, Jake thought morosely: Superman and the blond harem girl. Terrific.

He slinked away and headed for a men’s room.

As he came out, Tim Younger was being led by the butler toward the party room. Younger was dressed in a western square dance outfit: colorful checkered shirt, lean blue jeans, and tooled leather boots.

Younger stopped to gawk at Jake. “Who the hell are you supposed to be, Cyrano de Bergerac?”

“Tycho Brahe,” Jake answered, suddenly weary of explaining.

“Nice sword,” Younger allowed.

“Isn’t Glynis with you?” Jake asked.

“She called me at the last minute, said she couldn’t come.”

“Why not?”

“She got a call from one of Leeds’s people,” Younger said, looking annoyed. “Said he wants to talk to her about this FBI business.”

Into the Snow

INTO THE SNOW

Cold panic hit Jake like a blow to the pit of his stomach. “A call from one of Leeds’s people?” he asked Younger. “Who? When?”

Younger shrugged. “Beats me. Glyn told me that one of Tomlinson’s people set it up for her.”

Amy! Jake realized.

He whirled away from Younger and sprinted back into the crowded, noisy party room. The band was playing a leisurely waltz, costumed people were chatting, laughing, drinking. Pushing through the couples dancing in the center of the room, Jake spotted Amy, still clinging to Tomlinson’s arm.

He rushed up to her and demanded, “What’d you set up Glynis for?”

Amy blinked at him. “What?”

“Glynis Colwyn! What’d you tell her?”

Frowning at Jake’s insistent tone, Tomlinson asked, “What’s this all about?”

To Tomlinson, Amy replied, “That grad student who was involved with Professor Sinclair is trying to get somebody in Leeds’s office to talk to her about the investigation.”

Jake grabbed her arm. “And you set her up for a meeting?”

“With that Perez fellow,” Amy said. “He said he wants to talk to her.”

His frown turning puzzled, Tomlinson said, “Perez? You mean Leeds’s Las Vegas connection?”

“That seedy little man, yes,” Amy replied.

“Where?” Jake demanded, his voice shaking with fear. “Where are they meeting?”