extended his
arm to Angie. „If you will accompany me, I will show you my collection. The dagger is waiting to be
claimed.“
Angie accepted his arm, aware that Flynn was following close behind. Cardinal led the way back into
the villa and on into a windowless room that had been paneled in teak. When he opened the door to reveal
the collection of antique weapons, Angie thought she heard a soft exclamation from Flynn. Apparently
Cardinal did, too, because he dropped Angie’s arm and turned to watch his other guest with an amused and
understanding eye.
„What do you think, Mr. Sangrey?“
Flynn’s gaze moved from the pike hung on one wall to a handsomely worked bowie knife housed in a
glass case. „Very impressive.“ He walked over to another case and studied a sword that lay on black silk.
The pommel was done in deeply etched silver.
„From Toledo,“ Cardinal murmured.
„Yes.“ Flynn continued to gaze at the weapon. „Eighteenth century?“
„Probably earlier.“
Angie watched Flynn move on to a wall that was hung with wicked-looking two-edged swords. She
remembered her own comment the previous evening when she had wondered aloud how much Flynn would
have in common with Cardinal.
„My collection of rapiers is still growing,“ Cardinal remarked as he walked over to stand beside Flynn.
He reached up, took one off the wall and examined it lovingly for a moment. Then he handed it to Flynn.
„French. Sixteen hundreds.“
Angie moved uneasily. The roomful of weapons was reawakening the nervousness that Alexander
Cardinal had partially put to rest with his gracious hospitality. It wasn’t just the sight of the instruments of
war that was disturbing, it was the deep fascination they clearly held for Flynn and Cardinal. She began to
hope Haslett would show up soon to announce dinner.
„Ah, Miss Morgan, are we boring you?“ Cardinal looked politely concerned.
„No, of course not,“ she assured him quickly, not wanting to seem rude. Flynn didn’t look up from the
rapier he was holding. „It’s quite an interesting collection,“ she added, aware that the words sounded weak.
Cardinal smiled understandingly. „Perhaps you would find the object of your quest more interesting.“ He
moved soundlessly across the room to pick up a closed, black leather case. With a small bow he handed it
to Angie. „The Torres Dagger.“
Angie glanced down at the obviously new case and then back up to find Flynn watching her intently.
Wordlessly she unfastened the catch.
The case was lined with black velvet. The dagger lay sheathed in very old leather, its handle gleaming
faintly with the semiprecious stones that had been set in it. The weapon wasn’t very large, Angie thought.
The whole thing, handle and blade, was about a foot long. Slim, sleek, and deadly. Holding the case in one
hand, she touched the handle of the dagger with her free fingers. For a few seconds she was unable to look
away from the contents of the case. Without stopping to think, she closed her hand tightly around the handle
and lifted the sheathed blade out of the case.
The odd sensation of possessiveness was startling. She had never seen the Torres Dagger before in her
life. And she certainly didn’t believe all that mush about its importance to either the Torres or Challoner
family.
So why did she suddenly feel as if the dagger belonged to her?
Three
The launch and its near-silent pilot delivered Angie and Flynn to the hotel dock three hours later. The boat
roared off into the night as its two passengers started up the steps toward the resort. Angie didn’t bother to
wave goodbye.
„It seems to me, Mr. Cardinal could afford a more pleasant staff.“ Angie clutched the dagger case
under her arm as Flynn guided her back toward the lights of the lobby. She could hear the sounds of the
lounge combo drifting out over the hotel gardens.
„I have a hunch Cardinal has exactly the sort of staff he wants,“ Flynn said