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realise that,’ Steve continued to face the man levelly. ‘That’s why I didn’t go outside our present organisation.’
    ‘I wasn’t aware that your sister was on our payroll.’ Brad’s eyes travelled over her body as if memorising every detail for future reference. Sara shifted uncomfortably but stood her ground.
    ‘She isn’t. Like I said before, you would have recognised one of my regulars, just as you recognised Sam.’
    ‘So you sent a novice, and she not only nearly got herself caught but was almost killed,’ he scowled.
    A look of remorse spread over Steve’s features as he directed his attention towards Sara. ‘I heard about the railing. I’m sorry, Sis.’
    ‘It’s all right,’ she assured him. ‘But don’t ask for any more favours!’
    A flash of camaraderie passed between the brother and sister, and Steve threw her a wink.
    Brad had watched the interplay, his expression remaining cool. ‘I suppose no harm has been done. But I don’t want a replay of this. If I’d known you could be taken in by ghost stories and rumours I would have thought twice about hiring you, Manderly.’
    ‘It’s not the ghost stories. It’s the facts,’ Steve defended himself, his manner businesslike and firm. ‘Two people have tried to buy Cyprus Point and both of them are dead.’
    ‘One was an old woman with a serious heart condition who should have died years earlier and the other was an alcoholic who ran his car off of a cliff while driving under the influence. It was merely a coincidence that both were trying to purchase Cyprus Point.’
    ‘Possibly ... probably,’ Steve admitted. ‘But I had a gut instinct about the ball tonight. Not only have you lived in Charleston for less than six years but you’re a Yankee. For most of us common Southerners, being from north of the Mason-Dixon line is not considered a sin, but when mixing with those who consider themselves a part of the old Southern aristocracy, the origin of your birth is a different matter. That bunch is so closed, a whole family has to die out before they let a new one in, and then it has to be a family whose members have been Southerners for a century or better. For you to have been invited to one of their gatherings was totally out of character.’
    ‘For Pete’s sake, is that what you were basing your suspicions on?’ Sara demanded, her hands coming up to rest on her hips as she shook her head in disgust. ‘He was invited because Monica Fallon has set her sights on having him for a husband.’ Monica’s name came out sounding slightly sour, bringing a flush to Sara’s cheeks, since she had meant merely to state a fact and not offer a hint of an opinion.
    ‘No kidding?’ Steve glanced questioningly at Brad, a half smile on his face, while Brad raised a noncommittal eyebrow.
    In that moment Sara realised that, in spite of their heated exchange, the two men liked and respected one another.
    Suddenly the sound of knocking again filled the air. This time it came from the door which opened on to the staircase leading to the downstairs portion of the house, and Sara groaned. A visit from Mrs Wynn was the last thing she needed tonight. The knocking sounded again, more insistent this time, and she opened the door to find her landlady standing there with a look of triumph on her face.
    ‘I refuse to put up with any more cars careening in and out of my driveway or coming to screeching halts in front of my house or the men clopping around up here at all hours of the day and night! Tonight has been the final straw! Either you agree to be out of here by the end of the week or I’ll call the police and have you arrested for disturbing the peace!'
    Knowing that the woman would carry through with her threat, Sara sighed resignedly. ‘All right, I’ll move.'
    ‘By the end of the week,' Mrs Wynn repeated her stipulation firmly.
    ‘By the end of the week,' Sara confirmed coolly.
    Nodding her approval, the woman then left, slamming the door behind