The Edge of Doom by Amanda Cross Page B

a feckless, unreliable, generally disgraceful husband. Our mother did not. All the same, I just want to point out that this sort of thing can happen in the best of families. The very best.”
    She sat back, looking apologetic.
    “Why the hell are we discussing Edith Wharton?” William shouted.
    “The point we want to make here,” Laurence said, ignoring William and looking at Reed, “is our desire, certainly justified, to know more about this man, this person. He says he’s an architect, but is he? I know his motives may not be sinister, but I, we, would all feel better knowing more about him. Don’t you agree, Reed?”
    “Of course we both agree,” Reed said, taking Kate’s hand, whether in sympathy or to shut her up she was not sure. “Did you want me to undertake an investigation? I would of course report all findings to you.”
    “No need for that,” Laurence said, rising. “I just wanted to be sure we saw eye to eye on the matter, at least to that extent.” The other two rose also. Reed and Kate took rather longer to extricate themselves from the deep leather couch. When they were all on their feet, a slightly more amiable atmosphere could be felt.
    “We didn’t intend to blame you, Kate,” William said. “Of course you know that.”
    “Of course,” Kate agreed. She believed that in recent years, certainly since her brothers had all become responsible adults, married and with families, more and more established, richer and richer, they had resented her for a good deal, not least for keeping her name, Fansler, instead of taking Reed’s name when, far later than they considered appropriate, she had married him. Kate’s carryings-on under the name of Fansler had caused them all embarrassment, and, in addition to rebuking her, they would, if they could, have gladly banished her to the outer Hebrides. And if they had always blamed her in a general way, they now knew how right they had been: even the circumstances of her birth had turned out to be a disaster.
    “We must do our best to shut this man up,” David said, and Reed feared the whole discussion might begin all over again. The Fansler men could not believe that Jay did not have a menacing motive. Reed took a firmer grip on Kate’s hand and pulled her from the room. Kate waved goodbye as they went.

    Reed and Kate began walking uptown, each of them pondering what to make of the Fansler brothers’ fears and comments. Kate held Reed’s arm, wanting to feel close to him, partly as comfort after the unsettling feelings her brothers always evoked in her, partly because his wonderful good sense compared to them filled her with gratitude. Reed carried her briefcase in his other hand. She knew he was going to speak about the meeting they had just left, and waited for his words.
    “They’re certain to hire an investigator,” Reed said. “No doubt of that. They all but said so.”
    “Did they? I always hear threats, but nothing definitive about the form the threats will take, if any. I understand the fury in their words, but not the words, as Desdemona more or less put it.”
    “Desdemona denied her father, and you found yours. Well, I can hardly blame your brothers,” Reed said. “I wanted to investigate the man myself. I think it’s a way we feel we can get some control in a situation that was so unexpected and startling. Probably it’s rational to be suspicious, at least to some degree. What strikes me as intriguing is that you seem the least curious about him, when you might be the most curious.”
    “I know. I seem more to worry about what difference knowing he’s my father makes than about what he’s been doing between my birth and now. Which doesn’t make much sense, since what he’s been doing would tell me what sort of person he is.”
    “Your brothers,” Reed said, squeezing her arm against his body in acknowledgment of her words, “can call upon a lot of influence. I suspect that the investigator they hire may be very well