up her coffee cup.
They were sitting on the patio of a café in the heart of Burning Cove’s picturesque shopping district. In addition to the coffee there was a tray of delicate sandwiches and scones on the table.
It was another golden day in Burning Cove, Lyra reflected. Palms shaded the streets. People strolled the sidewalks, glancing into windows filled with fashionable clothes. Art galleries were scattered about. One of them, the Ashwood Gallery, had the latest photograph from Vivian’s Men series displayed in the window. A bowl of flowers had been discreetly arranged in front of the more revealing portions of the nude male in the picture. The price tag was also concealed, because the figure was quite high. If you have to ask, Lyra thought, smiling to herself. Vivian was a swiftly rising star in the world of art photography.
Simon and Vivian’s new husband, Nick, were in a nearby hardware store, shopping for whatever oddities men somehow never failed to discover in hardware stores. Nick’s impressively dangerous-looking dog, Rex, was with them.
“I can tell from the way he looks at you that Simon really cares for you,” Vivian said. “I think Mom and Dad will like him but I must admit I’m sorry Dad won’t be gaining the son-in-law he hoped for, the man who would take over Brazier Shipping. Still, it’s his own fault. He should have made you the heir to his business. I suppose that when he’s ready to retire he’ll have to sell the company.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan to keep Brazier Shipping in the family,” Lyra said.
Vivian had been about to take another sip of coffee. She put the cup down, startled. “I thought you liked your new career as a private investigator.”
“I do. One of these days I’m hoping Raina will make me a full partner in the firm. She says I am no longer an apprentice. I am now a full-fledged investigator.”
“How is that going to keep Brazier Shipping in the family?”
Lyra smiled, pleased with her own brilliance. “Dad is in his early fifties, and he’s in excellent health. I’m sure he will be running Brazier Shipping for the next couple of decades, by which time both of us will have no doubt provided him with a few potential heirs to the throne. He can take his pick.”
Vivian stared at her. “Grandchildren? How do you know—?”
“That you and I will both have children?” Lyra winked. “Call me psychic.”
Vivian started to laugh. Lyra joined her.
Simon and Nick appeared and pulled up chairs. Rex greeted Vivian and Lyra with lavish enthusiasm and then took up a position under the table, where he waited expectantly for food to magically appear.
Nick eyed Lyra warily and then switched his attention to Vivian. “Are we missing something?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Lyra said. “Just a little sisterly chat.”
Nick looked skeptical. “Uh-huh.”
“Lyra has a plan to keep Brazier Shipping in the family,” Vivian explained.
“How?” Nick asked.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Simon said. He popped a tiny sandwich into his mouth. “Grandchildren. That’s where you and I come in. I suspect it’s been her master plan all along.”
Lyra had just taken a sip of coffee. She tried to swallow and failed. She sputtered, spewed some coffee, grabbed her napkin, and went into a violent coughing fit.
Simon leaned over and thumped her lightly on the back. He smiled at the others. “She has an answer for everything.”
Chapter 51
Simon brought the speedster to a stop at the front entrance of the Hidden Beach Inn. He contemplated the mansion with a sense of doom. Just call me psychic.
“This is not a good idea,” he said.
Half an hour ago he had been blissfully savoring a cup of coffee and the scrambled eggs he had prepared in the cast iron skillet that Lyra claimed she had no idea how to use. It had been amusing trying to teach her how to cook eggs.
Lyra had answered the phone. The instant he saw her eyes light up with the all-too-familiar gleam of curiosity, he had known trouble was coming.
“It’s for you,” she said, holding out the phone. “Dr. Otto Tinsley. He says he’s here in Burning Cove.”
It was the perfect way to ruin what had been the start of a perfect day.
“You should not come in with me,” he said. “It would be better if I deal with Otto alone.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting him,” Lyra said. “I’ve never met a professional psychic researcher.”
“He’s a con artist, Lyra. A fraud.”
“Wouldn’t you say he’s more of a showman?”
“No. I would