“How dare you imply that we would do something like that?” Lillian was furious now. “We didn’t come here to blackmail Marilyn.”

Anderson paid no attention to her. “Just tell me what you want, Madison, and I’ll see to it that you get it, provided that you destroy those photos.”

“What we want,” Gabe said evenly, “are some answers.”

Anderson’s brows came together in a puzzled scowl. “Answers to what?”

“Did you break into Lillian’s apartment in Portland?”

For an instant Anderson appeared frozen in place. Then he came up out of the chair. He was practically vibrating with outrage.

“Are you out of your mind?” he hissed. “Why would I do such a thing?”

“To look for her computer program,” Gabe said. “You can save the act. It’s good but it’s not that good.”

“I did not break into her apartment.” Each word was pronounced with unnatural precision.

“And what about her cottage here in Eclipse Bay?” Gabe said. “I assume that was you, too, but I’ll admit that incident is a little confusing because of the assault on Arizona Snow.”

“I don’t even know anyone named Arizona Snow,” Anderson gritted.

“Maybe that was an unrelated event, after all,” Lillian said to Gabe.

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I can’t get past the coincidence thing.”

“Coincidences happen,” she pointed out.

Anderson swung around to face her. “Stop it. Both of you. You can’t make false accusations like this. You can’t prove a damn thing.”

“You’re right about not being able to prove anything,” Gabe said.

Anderson settled himself, relieved. “I knew it.”

“That’s why we came here instead of going to the cops. Of course, if you’d rather we went to Marilyn, we can do that. She might be interested to hear about your legal problems back in the days when you were selling online investments.”

Shock flashed on Anderson’s face. “Marilyn would never listen to you.”

“Don’t bank on it,” Lillian responded. “She and Gabe have a history. They go back a long way, I think Marilyn would listen to him if he told her that he didn’t believe that you were a good choice for campaign manager.”

“You can’t do that,” Anderson stammered. “You have no right. Nothing was ever proven.”

“All we want is confirmation that you went through Lillian’s things looking for her matchmaking program,” Gabe demanded.

Anderson abruptly turned away toward the window. He gazed bleakly out at the motel parking lot.

“I did not break into Lillian’s apartment or the cottage,” he said eventually, again enunciating each word with care.

“Let’s not quibble over the details.” Gabe watched him closely. “Maybe you didn’tbreak into her apartment. Maybe you let yourself inside with keys that you either duplicated from her key ring or conned out of the housekeeping staff or the manager.”

Lillian flashed him a startled look. Her mouth opened but she closed it quickly without saying a word.

“The cottage was a problem,” Gabe went on, “because you didn’t have a key so you had to pry open the door. The second time you smashed a window. By then you had heard about our theory that Lillian was being stalked. Word of that kind of thing gets around fast in a small town. You trashed her studio hoping to keep us looking in that direction. You didn’t want us thinking there might be another motive for the break-ins.”

“I am not a stalker.”

“I didn’t say you were,” Gabe said. “But I think it’s pretty clear that Marilyn can’t afford to be connected to a campaign manager who goes around imitating stalkers. Or one who breaks into apartments and cottages, for that matter. Bad for the image, you know.”

“It’s a lie. I didn’t trash Lillian’s studio. You can’t do this to me.”

“All we want is the truth,” Gabe said.

“Damn it, I won’t let you ruin this for me.”

Without warning, Anderson spun away from the window and flung himself at Gabe.

“Anderson, no,” Lillian called. “Stop. This won’t solve anything.”

But Anderson was beyond reason. Gabe managed to sidestep the initial charge but Anderson wheeled with startling speed and came at him again. This time Gabe found himself trapped in the corner, the television set on one side, a lamp on the other.

He took the only way out, going low to duck Anderson’s swinging fist. Anderson’s hand struck the wall where Gabe had been standing a second earlier. A shuddering jolt went through him. Gabe heard him suck in an anguished breath.

He caught Anderson by the legs and shoved hard. The momentum toppled both of them to the rug. They went down with a stunning thud, Anderson on the bottom. He struggled wildly, fighting back with a reckless fury, completely out of control. He hammered the floor with his heels and managed to slam a fist into Gabe’s ribs. He twisted violently, trying to lurch free.

Gabe finally pinned him to the rug, using his weight to force him to lie still.

Trapped, Anderson stared up at him. Gabe felt him go limp as the hurricane of violence dissipated as suddenly as it had appeared.

“I don’t want her hurt, do you understand?” Anderson’s voice was ragged. “I’ll do whatever you want-just don’t hurt her.”

“Listen to me, Anderson, no one wants to hurt Marilyn. We just want the truth.” Gabe tightened his hands on Anderson’s shoulders. “Tell me about the break-ins.”

“All right. Okay. I did go into Lillian’s apartment. But I didn’t break in, damn it. I went in with the cleaning people.”

“It was that easy?”

Anderson nodded. “It was that easy. Just told them I was there to check out some electrical problems. People trust you when you wear a uniform with your name on it.”

Lillian moved closer. Gabe sensed the shock that gripped her. He caught a glimpse of her hands. They were clenched so tightly that her knuckles were white. But her voice was surprisingly steady.

“Did you want the matchmaking program that badly, Anderson?” she asked. “I told you, it wasn’t magic. Just a standard personality inventory analysis program that I used together with a dose of common sense.”

Anderson looked up at her. “It wasn’t the damned matchmaking program I wanted, you little fool. It was the data on your clients.”

“Myclients.”

“Don’t you get it?” He made a disgusted sound. “Hell, you really don’t know what you’ve got, do you? Don’t you have any concept of what that client database is worth? You’ve got detailed background information on some of the wealthiest, most successful, most powerful people in the city. Hell, in the whole damn state.”

“But what would you do with it?”

“Why don’t you ask your boyfriend, here. I’m sure he understands what that kind of information is worth these days.”

“A fortune.” Gabe released Anderson and got to his feet. “Good client data is one of the most valuable commodities on the market today. Businesses, investors, politicians, charitable organizations, you name it, they all want it. They’ll all pay big bucks for solid background on people who have a lot of money to spend.”

Lillian looked at Anderson. “You never were interested in collaborating on a book, were you? You were after my client roster all along. Who did you plan to sell my files to?”

He sat up slowly, wincing. “I hadn’t finalized my list of prospects. I was still working on it when you announced that you intended to close down Private Arrangements. When I realized you were serious, my first thought was to salvage the data. I offered to buy your program, thinking I’d get the client list with it. But you refused to sell.”

“So you tried to steal it.”

“I didn’t intend to steal the damned files.” Anderson actually looked offended. “I just wanted to take a copy for myself.”

“You don’t call that theft?” Lillian asked.

His jaw clenched. “It wasn’t like you had any use for that data.”

“When you didn’t find her files in Portland, you followed her here to Eclipse Bay,” Gabe said. “That night in the restaurant you encountered the perfect prospect for the client info. Marilyn Thornley. A politician badly in need of a rich donor list.”