Sharp Edges Read Online Free

anything more about him than he wanted her to know.
    Two could play at that game, she thought.
    Which meant they had a standoff.
    She made one last stab at warding off the inevitable. "Tabitha, you can't possibly expect me to work under these conditions."
    "Nonsense." Tabitha's shrewd eyes burned with the fires of excitement. "Where's your sense of adventure? Why, if I didn't have so many commitments here in Seattle during the next few weeks, I'd be tempted to go in your place."
    Not a chance, Eugenia vowed silently. She had no intention of allowing anyone, not even Tabitha Leabrook, to go to Frog Cove Island in her stead. But she needed to be free to pursue her own plans, and that meant she had to be in charge of the situation. From what little she had seen, Colfax did not appear to be the easily managed type.
    She picked up the plump, 1930s-era fountain pen she used to sign official correspondence and lounged back in her chair. "What happens if I simply refuse to cooperate in this fiasco?"
    "Easy." Cyrus shoved his hands into his pockets and smiled benignly. "I tell the Daventry estate folks that you won't assist the investigation."
    She waited for the other shoe to drop. When Cyrus did not say anything else, she rolled the fat pen between her palms.
    "That's it?" she asked.
    "Well, not quite," Cyrus said slowly. "After I tell the estate executors that the Leabrook was uncooperative, they will probably instruct their lawyers to tie up the assets of the Daventry estate as long as possible."
    Eugenia closed her eyes.
    "I figure that a good legal team could probably arrange to keep the Daventry glass collection out of the hands of the Leabrook for four or five years," Cyrus continued. "Maybe longer."
    A cold chill went through Eugenia. She opened her eyes and sat very still.
    Tabitha's mouth dropped open in shock. "My God, we can't risk that. We must have that glass. It's an incredible collection."
    Eugenia watched Cyrus closely. "He's bluffing, Tabitha."
    Cyrus raised his brows.
    He was not bluffing, Eugenia thought. If she did not cooperate, he would convince the executors to tie up the estate. The Leabrook could wind up spending a fortune fighting for the bequest in court.
    "That's blackmail," she said.
    "Eugenia, really, that's going much too far," Tabitha chided. "Mr. Colfax is not issuing a threat. He's merely telling us what the executors' reaction will be if he isn't allowed to conduct his investigation."
    "Like heck he is. He's threatening us, Tabitha."
    Tabitha made a tut-tutting sound. "You're overreacting, my dear. And it's all moot in any case. I've already agreed to assist him, and not just because it will please the Daventry estate."
    "I know, I know," Eugenia said wearily. "You're worried about me."
    "I'm being cautious." Tabitha's expression turned serious. "If there is a possibility that Adam Daventry was murdered, the motive might very well have had something to do with his art collection. I do not want you staying alone with all that valuable glass and only that caretaker person for protection."
    Eugenia knew when she was beaten. "All right, Tabitha, if you insist, I'll go along with this idiotic scheme."
    Tabitha beamed. "Thank you, my dear. It will be a tremendous load off my mind to know that you'll have Mr. Colfax with you at Glass House."
    "There is one small stipulation," Eugenia added gently.
    Cyrus's gaze sharpened fractionally. "What's that?"
    "I get to choose the cover story we use," Eugenia said briskly. "Given the extremely limited range of options, I'll have to settle for the one in which you pose as my assistant."
    There was a beat of silence.
    "Don't think that one will work real well," Cyrus said.
    "Too bad." She glared at him. "It's the only one I'm prepared to consider."
    Cyrus nodded. "Mind if I ask why you chose that one instead of the one in which we pose as a couple on vacation?"
    She eyed his shirt. "I would have thought it was obvious. It's going to be difficult enough to pass you off