HER FIRST CHALLENGE in that area occurred early the next morning. Exhaustion had finally permitted her to drift off, but she couldn’t have been asleep more than a few hours when she was roused by the insistent ringing of her doorbell.

Disoriented, it took her several moments to struggle out of bed and into her robe. By the time she groped her way down the stairs, the ringing sounded so urgent that her heart was in her throat. All she could think of was that the police were here to report the worst.

She didn’t know whether to be relieved or angry when she arrived in the kitchen and saw Devlin at the door, signaling through the glass to be let in. Still groggy, she fumbled with the lock and opened the door.

“What is it?” she demanded. “Is something wrong?”

“Not unless the coffee gets cold.” He held up a bulging paper bag. “I brought breakfast.”

“You scared me to death!”

“Sorry.” He pushed past her into the kitchen.

When she closed the door and turned to confront him again, he was already busy at the counter unpacking the bag, lifting out juice, two containers of coffee and a selection of Danish. The sight of him fully awake, with a brisk, take-charge attitude and wearing a pair of crisp tan slacks and a fresh oxford shirt that managed to emphasize his rugged good looks, irritated her. She was conscious of looking less than human herself in her wrinkled robe and with her auburn hair uncombed.

“What are you doing here at this ungodly hour?” she accused him. “The bank doesn’t open until nine.”

“We’ve got other errands before then. I want to get inside Ramey’s office and look at his records. That is, if you know where to lay your hands on a key.”

“There’s a spare one in his desk here, providing he didn’t take it with him.”

“Good. And along the way, I’d like to stop off and turn in my car. No point in paying rent on it when we’ve got yours.”

“I see,” she said dryly. “Anything else?”

“Yeah, how do you like your Danish? Warm or cold?”

“Neither until I’ve showered and dressed. And while I’m doing that, you can make yourself useful.” She slapped a phone book in front of him. “You’ll find the air-conditioning service listed at the back. See what you can do about arranging for a repair. Bonnie Wodeski’s number is there, too. Maybe you’ll have better luck reaching her. All I get is her answering machine.”

Devlin had made himself at home and was removing the Danish from the microwave when she returned to the kitchen fifteen minutes later in a summer top and matching cotton pants.

“Looks like we won’t have to break in,” he said, eyeing the key to Michael’s office that dangled from her hand. “Air-conditioning people will be out this afternoon, and the machine is still answering at Bonnie Wodeski’s apartment. Sit down to your breakfast and tell me what she looks like.”

Karen seated herself and reached for the juice that was waiting for her. “Bonnie is a bottle-blonde and a bit on the flashy side. Why are you asking?”

“Because that juice you’re drinking, along with the coffee and Danish here, came from a cafe near Michael Ramey’s office.”

“You have been out and busy, haven’t you?”

“That’s right. I was checking the neighborhood there, asking a few questions. The man behind the counter in this little cafe is the talkative type. He said Ramey came in there all the time for lunch. And guess what? On more than one occasion he was accompanied by a blond woman. The guy said the two of them were very cozy.”

Karen stared at him. “If you’re saying Michael was having an affair with Bonnie and the two of them have run off together, I don’t believe it. She simply isn’t his type.”

“Look, I’m not saying it’s true, but it is another possibility we have to consider.”

Devlin offered no further argument, but Karen knew what he must be thinking. Bonnie wasn’t answering her phone. Could that mean she, too, was missing? Maybe their visit to Michael’s office would provide an explanation.

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