Shadow Game
meant. What was she supposed to set right? And what had he been doing in his private laboratory? And Peter's last wish was for her to set Ryland Miller and his men free. What in the world had he meant about finding the others? What others?
    "Lily?" John Brimslow pushed open the door and stuck his head in. "I've paged your father several times but there's no answer. Rosa checked Donovans. He signed out late in the afternoon." There was a worried note in his voice. "Was there a fundraiser or somewhere your father was giving a speech?"
    Lily forced a thoughtful frown, though she wanted to burst into tears again and fling herself into his arms for comfort. She dared not look him fully in the eye. He knew her so well. Even with the poor lighting, he would notice her tear-streaked face.
    She shook her head. "He was supposed to meet me for dinner at Antonio's. I waited over an hour but he didn't show up. I left the standard message with Antonio should he wander in, that I had given up and come home, but there was nothing else. Did they say if he left with anyone? Maybe he went to dinner with someone from the lab."
    "I don't think Rosa asked that."
    "Did you look at the planner on his desk?" Her throat ached, raw and painful.
    John snorted. "Please, Lily, no one can find anything on your father's desk and if we did, it wouldn't make sense. He has that weird shorthand code he writes in. You're the only one who's going to make sense out of anything on his calendar."
    "I'll go look, John. He probably went back to the labs and just isn't picking up. Call the desk and ask if he signed back in." She was proud of herself for sounding so practical. So in control. Not really worried yet, but slightly amused at her father's continual absentmindedness. "And if not, ask if he left with anyone. And you might have them check on that ridiculous car he insists on driving."
    Deep inside, she heard weeping and she knew it was her own voice. The sound was frightening in its intensity and she had no idea how she was making it when she was talking with John so naturally.
    For one moment she felt the warmth pouring into her again. Surrounding her, caressing her. There were no words, but the feeling was strong. Unity. Comfort. Her emotions were too strong and they were spilling out in spite of her protections.
    As she neared the doorway and the chauffeur, Lily deliberately twisted her foot on the priceless Oriental rug on the floor and stumbled. She caught at John Brimslow's jacket to save herself, falling hard enough against him to shake them both.
    John steadied her, helping her back to her feet. Lily longed for a flood of information so she could be absolutely certain John was innocent and she would have an ally, but there was nothing whatsoever. John's mind was, as always, even with her trying to read him, protected from the intrusion of hers.
    "Are you all right, Lily?"
    "I'm just tired. You know how clumsy I can be when I'm tired. Either that or Dad's Oriental rug will have to go." Hard as she tried, she couldn't pull off a smile. She didn't want to think that John could have betrayed her father. She didn't want to think of her father lying at the bottom of the ocean.
    The only thing enabling her to walk toward her father's office was that warmth spreading inside of her. Aid from the very stranger who might wish her father dead. She sat at her father's desk and stared at the multitude of papers and the stacks of books without really seeing them. She was holding on to the warmth and courage pouring into her body from that unexpected and unwanted source. Ryland Miller. Was he her enemy? If she hadn't been so carefully protecting herself, she might have learned earlier that her father was in danger. Whoever had planned to kill him may have been in the very room. Whoever had betrayed him lived in her home.
     
    RYLAN D Miller sat down heavily in the one decent chair provided for him. Lily Whitney's grief swamped him, weighed him down like a heavy stone

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