She didn't like it. She didn't like it one damn bit, but she downshifted and started up the narrow, bumpy lane to Sebastian's house. Not for a minute did she believe he'd dreamed the plate number—or whatever term he would use—but, since he'd given her the tip, she felt obliged to do a follow-up.

When she reached the top of his lane, she was torn between elation at the progress she'd made and irritation at having to deal with him again. She'd be professional, she promised herself as she pulled between a muscular-looking Harley and a late-model minivan.

After climbing the steps, she gave a brisk knock on the door. The knocker she used was a brass figure of a snarling wolf. Intrigued, Mel played with it for a moment while she waited. When there was no response, Mel did what came naturally. She peeked in the windows.

She saw no one, only the lofty living room on one side and a very impressive library on the other. If her conscience had allowed, she would have turned away and gone home. But to do so would be both cowardly and petty. Instead, she went back down the steps and started around the house.

Mel spotted him standing inside a paddock, his arm intimately around a slim blonde in snug jeans. They were laughing, and the sound they made together was as intimate as their stance.

The quick bolt of heat baffled her. She didn't give a hang if he had a lady. She didn't care if he had a bloody harem. This was business.

But the fact that he would kiss a woman senseless one day and be snuggled up to another the next told Mel just what kind of a man Sebastian Donovan was.

A creep.

Despite it, she would be professional. Digging her hands into her pockets, she strode across the lawn toward the weathered fence.

"Hey, Donovan."

They both turned, man and woman. Mel could see that the female was not only slim and blond, but lovely, too. Absolutely lovely, with calm gray eyes and a soft, full mouth that was already curved in a half smile.

Mel felt like a big mongrel dog faced with a glossy purebred.

As she scowled, Mel saw him murmur something to the woman, kiss her smooth temple, then come over to lean against the fence.

"How you doing, Sutherland?"

"I got your message."

"I assumed you did. Ana, this is Mel Sutherland, a private investigator. Mel, Anastasia Donovan. My cousin."

"It's nice to meet you." Ana held out a hand as Mel approached the fence. "Sebastian's told me about the case you're working on. I hope you find the child quickly."

"Thanks." Mel accepted the hand. There was something so soothing about the voice, about the touch, that she felt half of her tension dissolve. "I'm making some progress."

"The boy's parents must be frantic."

"They're scared, but they're holding up."

"I'm sure it helps them, having someone who cares so much trying to help."

Anastasia stepped back, wishing she could do something to help. But, like Sebastian, she had learned she couldn't be all things to all people.

"I'm sure you have business," she continued.

"I don't want to interrupt." Mel flicked a glance at Sebastian, then looked over his shoulder to where the horses stood. The quick pleasure showed in her face before she looked away again. "I only need a minute."

"No, take your time." Graceful as a doe, Ana vaulted over the fence. "I was just leaving. Will you make the movies tomorrow night, Sebastian?"

"Whose turn is it?"

"It's Morgana's. She said she felt like murder, so we're going to see a thriller."

"I'll meet you." He leaned over the fence to give her another kiss. "Thanks for the tansy."

"My pleasure. Welcome home. Nice to meet you, Mel."

"Yeah. Nice to meet you." Mel pushed her hair out of her eyes and watched Anastasia cross the lawn.

"Yes, she is lovely, isn't she?" Sebastian said lightly. "And as lovely inside as out."

"You seemed pretty close, for cousins."

His lips curved. "Yes, we are. Ana, Morgana and I spent a great deal of our childhood together, here and in Ireland. And, of course, when you have something in common, something that separates you from what's termed the norm, you tend to stick together."

Lifting a brow, Mel turned back to him. "You want me to believe she's psychic, too?"

"Not precisely. Ana has a different talent." He reached out to brush at Mel's bangs himself. "But you didn't come here to talk about my family."

"No." She shifted slightly, just out of reach, and tried to decide on the least humiliating way to thank him. "I checked out the plate. I already had half of it myself when I got the message."

"Oh?"

"I turned up a witness." No way was she going to admit how hard she'd worked to come up with those three little letters. "So anyway, I called my contact at the DMV, had it checked out."

"And?"

"And the car's registered to a James T. Parkland. The address is in Jamesburg." Propping one booted foot on a low rail, she leaned on the fence while the breeze ruffled her hair. She liked the smell of horses. Just watching them relaxed her. "I took a ride down there. He'd skipped. Landlady was pretty talkative, since he'd ducked two months' rent."

The mare walked over to the fence and bumped Mel's shoulder. Automatically she lifted a hand to stroke down the smooth white cheek. "I got an earful on Jimmy. He was the kind of guy who just invited trouble. Not a bad-looking boy—and I quote—but always had his pockets turned out. Always seemed to scrape up enough for a six-pack, though. The landlady claims to have taken a… motherly interest in him… but I have a hunch it wasn't quite so platonic. Otherwise she wouldn't be so steamed."

"Two months' rent," Sebastian reminded her, watching the way Mel's hand rubbed over the horse.

"Uh-uh. This was personal. She had that bitter tone a woman gets when she's been dumped."

Sebastian tilted his head, trusting Mel's intuition. "Which made her more talkative—to a sympathetic ear."

"You bet. She said he liked to gamble. Mostly on sports, but any game would do. He'd gotten in pretty deep over the last few months, started having visitors." She flicked Sebastian a glance. "The kind who have broken noses and lumps under their suit coats where their guns ruin the line. He tried to hit her for some quick cash, but she claimed she was tapped out. Then he said how he had a line on how to get himself out of it, once and for all. Last few days he was there, he was real nervous, jumpy, hyped up. Then he split. The last time she saw him was a week before David's kidnapping."