Diana Palmer - Emmett

T he office was in chaos. Melody Cartman eyed the window ledge with keen speculation and wondered if standing out there might get her a few minutes reprieve. She glanced toward her newly married third cousin, Logan Deverell, and his beaming wife, Kit, and decided that she couldnt spoil their honeymoon.

Youll cope, Kit promised in a whisper. Just tell everyone hell be back in touch with them next week and that Tom Walker is handling all his accounts until he returns.

Has he told Mr. Walker that? Melody asked, acutely aware of Mr. Walkers temper. Tom had started out in New York City, but circumstances had brought him to Houston. Texas, hed once said, reminded him a little of his native South Dakota. Melody had often wondered if hed been brought up by a mountain lion there, because on occasion he could give a pretty good imitation of one.

Honest. Kit put her hand over her heart. I swear Logan spoke to him first this time. I heard him with my own ears.

Thats all right then. Honestly he seemed like such a nice man when I first met him. But I took him that client of Mr. Deverells and found him involved in giving another client the bums rush out the door. Our client and the other client both ran for it, and I was left to face the music. He never used a bad word or the same word twice, but I was three inches shorter when I escaped from his office.

Logan is your third cousin. Cant you call him Logan?

Melody glanced toward the big, dark man on the telephone in his office. Not without a head start, she said finally.

Anyway, he didnt volunteer Tom without mentioning it to him this time, so you wont get your ears burned. Think you can handle everything for a week?

If I cant cope by now, Ill never be able to, Melody said, and her brave smile made her look almost pretty. She was a tall woman, very country-looking in some ways, with freckles and a softly rounded face that was framed by long, blond-streaked light brown hair. Her eyes were brown, with tiny flecks of gold in them. If she took the time, she could look very attractive, Kit thought. But Melody wore jumpers with long-sleeved blouses, or tailored suits, and always in colors that were much better suited to the coloring of someone with dark hair and an equally dark complexion.

Youd like Tom if you got to know him, Kit told her. He knocked that man out the door for some pretty blatant sexual harassment of his secretary. Hes only bad tempered when he needs to be, and hes all alone except for a married sister back home and a nephew. He doesnt even go out with women.

I can see why!

Not nice, Kit chided. Hes a good-looking, intelligent man, and hes rich.

I can think of at least one ax murderer with the same description. I read about him in there. She gestured toward one of the supermarket tabloids.

Kits eyes fell to the tabloid on Melodys desk, its cover carrying color photos of a particularly gruesome murder. Do you actually read this stuff? Kit asked with a grimace. These photos are terrible!

I thought you were a detective, Melody said. Arent detectives supposed to be used to stuff like that?

Kit smiled sheepishly. Well, I dont detect those sort of cases.

I dont blame you. Actually I didnt buy it for the grisly pictures. I bought it for this nifty reducing diet. Doesnt it look interesting? You dont give up any foods, you simply cut down and cut out sweets.

You arent fat, Melody, the other woman pointed out.

No, Im just big. I do wish I were slender and willowy, she said wistfully.

There isnt a thing wrong with the way you are.

Thats what you think! Actually I

A sudden commotion in the hall cut her off. She and Kit turned just as Emmett Deverell and his three children walked in. The kids were wearing costumes left over from their Thanksgiving Day play last month Indian costumes.