“No,” she said. “It was a perfectly boring day. Thwarting was at an all-time low.”

One of the workmen laying carpet came into the dining room. “There been a death in the family?” he asked. “You expecting a visit from the president?”

“No,” Steve said. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

“There’s a black limo parking in front of your house. It’s about a half mile long, and I think it’s being driven by Antonio Banderas.”

Steve grinned. “It’s only a wild guess, but I’d say my mother’s been talking to Aunt Zena.”

Before Steve had a chance to leave the table, Schmidt appeared in the doorway. “Sorry to interrupt your meal, but I need to clear some visitors. They say they’re your parents?”

“Is the man tall and inscrutable? Did he try to bribe you?” Steve asked.

“He’s tall and inscrutable,” Schmidt said. “He hasn’t tried to bribe me yet.”

“Well, if he does, take the money. He’s my father.”

There was a short commotion in the hall, and Daisy felt a flutter of nerves when Steve rose to greet his parents. The woman was slim and elegant, from the tips of her freshly manicured nails to the shining mane of thick, black hair. She was small-boned, with a classically beautiful face. Her eyes were large and dark, and it was easy to imagine them smoldering with passion. Steve had his mother’s eyes, Daisy thought. The rest of him was Crow. With the exception of the deep lines etched into his father’s face and a few extra pounds, they were almost mirror images.

“There’s a dog sitting at your table,” Steve’s mother said. “And he’s eating spaghetti.”

“That’s Bob,” Steve told her. “And this is Kevin Adams, Daisy Adams, and Elsie Hawkins. Can you stay for supper? I have plenty of spaghetti.”

“Of course I’ll stay for supper,” his mother said. “It isn’t every day I get to eat with a dog.” She pulled a chair up next to Elsie. “Maria Crow,” she said, extending her hand. “Are you related to Daisy?”

“Nope. I work for the radio station. I’m her bodyguard.”

“And what about the two policemen sitting in that drab little car outside?”

“They’re guarding her body, too,” Elsie said. “They were assigned after the firebombing.”

“Firebombing?” Maria Crow arched her delicate black eyebrows.

Steve and Daisy were scrambling to add place settings and get Steve’s father seated. They paused and exchanged horrified glances. “It was only one bomb, and it was very small,” Steve said. “Hardly worth mentioning.” He handed his mother a glass of red wine. “What do you think of my house?”