stepped out of the bathroom, her hair fell in shaggy waves around her face, her expression was set with determination and her clothes were as neat as was possible, considering she'd been wearing them for several days. She was ready to face the world, her family and Sam Delanian, not necessarily in that order.
The television was on, the sound of bells and whistles announcing a game show even before she saw the picture. Sam was sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyes on the screen but his thoughts clearly elsewhere. He glanced up as she stepped out of the bathroom, his eyes sweeping over her. Babs had to remind herself that the funny little blip in her heartbeat was caused by gratitude.
"We'll do some shopping today. We both need a change of clothes." He reached out and snapped off the television in the midst of some woman's screams of ecstasy over a prize she'd just won.
"I have plenty of clothes at home."
"We're not heading back to Montecito. At least not quite yet."
"Why not? I think it's time I faced my family. I don't want them thinking they can get away with kidnapping me every time I threaten to do something they don't like."
"Just what did you threaten to do?"
Babs hesitated, all her aunt's training telling her that you never discussed family matters with outsiders. But then, Sam could hardly be called an outsider. She sat down on the other bed, studying the worn carpet under her feet.
"They sold fake works of art to Eduardo Stefanoni." She hurried the words out, not looking at him.
There was a moment's silence and then Sam whistled, a long, low sound of disbelief. "From what I've heard of Stefanoni, he's not the type to shrug that off."
"No. I didn't think so either. My family can be...rather naive." She felt herself flushing, embarrassed by what her family had done, humiliated by the need to try to explain the unexplainable. How could she tell him that her family thought that being a Malone gave you the right to do anything you wanted and the rest of the world just had to like it?
"Downright stupid might be a better description." Sam was more blunt.
Babs nodded unhappily, wishing she could argue. "I didn't find out until after the sale had gone through and I tried to explain to them that Mr. Stefanoni was not going to be happy but I don't think I got through to them."
"So why would they have you kidnapped? I don't see what good that would do them.''
She scuffed her foot on the carpet, still without looking at him. "I think they wanted to keep me out of the way until Stefanoni goes back to Italy. They had some idea that once he took the paintings back to Italy, he wouldn't find out they were fakes. I told them that if they didn't go to Stefanoni and tell him what they'd done and give him the real paintings, I was going to talk to Finney."
"Who's Finney?"
"Finney, Finney, Finney and Smythe? He's the first Finney. They've been the family law firm for ages. Practically since time began."
"So what would Finney of Finney, Finney and Smythe do?"
"You forgot a Finney. Under the terms of my greatgrandfather's will, if the family sells off any of the art he bought back in the dark ages, for any reason except starvation, the entire estate will be broken up and given to charity. The paintings they sold to Stefanoni were copies of works that my great-grandfather bought. If Finney finds out what they've done, under the terms of the will, it might be enough to break up the estate, especially if they had to give the real things to Stefanoni."
"But why would you risk going to Finney? You'd lose everything, too."
"No. My money comes from my grandfather and it's separate from the rest of the family money. I've received an allowance from it since I was a child and on my twenty-fifth birthday, I inherit the whole thing." She sounded depressed by the idea and Sam wondered what it would be like to have so much money that the thought of it was depressing.
She heaved a sigh and looked at him. "You see why I have to go
The television was on, the sound of bells and whistles announcing a game show even before she saw the picture. Sam was sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyes on the screen but his thoughts clearly elsewhere. He glanced up as she stepped out of the bathroom, his eyes sweeping over her. Babs had to remind herself that the funny little blip in her heartbeat was caused by gratitude.
"We'll do some shopping today. We both need a change of clothes." He reached out and snapped off the television in the midst of some woman's screams of ecstasy over a prize she'd just won.
"I have plenty of clothes at home."
"We're not heading back to Montecito. At least not quite yet."
"Why not? I think it's time I faced my family. I don't want them thinking they can get away with kidnapping me every time I threaten to do something they don't like."
"Just what did you threaten to do?"
Babs hesitated, all her aunt's training telling her that you never discussed family matters with outsiders. But then, Sam could hardly be called an outsider. She sat down on the other bed, studying the worn carpet under her feet.
"They sold fake works of art to Eduardo Stefanoni." She hurried the words out, not looking at him.
There was a moment's silence and then Sam whistled, a long, low sound of disbelief. "From what I've heard of Stefanoni, he's not the type to shrug that off."
"No. I didn't think so either. My family can be...rather naive." She felt herself flushing, embarrassed by what her family had done, humiliated by the need to try to explain the unexplainable. How could she tell him that her family thought that being a Malone gave you the right to do anything you wanted and the rest of the world just had to like it?
"Downright stupid might be a better description." Sam was more blunt.
Babs nodded unhappily, wishing she could argue. "I didn't find out until after the sale had gone through and I tried to explain to them that Mr. Stefanoni was not going to be happy but I don't think I got through to them."
"So why would they have you kidnapped? I don't see what good that would do them.''
She scuffed her foot on the carpet, still without looking at him. "I think they wanted to keep me out of the way until Stefanoni goes back to Italy. They had some idea that once he took the paintings back to Italy, he wouldn't find out they were fakes. I told them that if they didn't go to Stefanoni and tell him what they'd done and give him the real paintings, I was going to talk to Finney."
"Who's Finney?"
"Finney, Finney, Finney and Smythe? He's the first Finney. They've been the family law firm for ages. Practically since time began."
"So what would Finney of Finney, Finney and Smythe do?"
"You forgot a Finney. Under the terms of my greatgrandfather's will, if the family sells off any of the art he bought back in the dark ages, for any reason except starvation, the entire estate will be broken up and given to charity. The paintings they sold to Stefanoni were copies of works that my great-grandfather bought. If Finney finds out what they've done, under the terms of the will, it might be enough to break up the estate, especially if they had to give the real things to Stefanoni."
"But why would you risk going to Finney? You'd lose everything, too."
"No. My money comes from my grandfather and it's separate from the rest of the family money. I've received an allowance from it since I was a child and on my twenty-fifth birthday, I inherit the whole thing." She sounded depressed by the idea and Sam wondered what it would be like to have so much money that the thought of it was depressing.
She heaved a sigh and looked at him. "You see why I have to go
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