“They grilled me.”

“And you lied to them.”

He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and shrugged. “I have a family to protect now.”

“Look, it’s because you have a family that I’m hoping I can appeal to your sense of decency. You’ll notice I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt by assuming you’ve developed one.”

She studied him. He was still handsome, although his features were more hardened than she remembered, his attitude gruffer. She supposed prison could do that to a man, and she shivered.

Richard released her hand and slid his arm around her back.

“Who’s the suit?” Tony gestured to Richard.

Sharon squared her shoulders, meeting his gaze. If he was her blackmailer, he already knew that not only did she plan to marry Richard, but also that he was running for mayor. “My fiancé,” she said, still giving him some leeway.

“Well, I’ll tell you what I told your friends. I didn’t keep the photographs. The cops took them all and there’s no way you’re pinning any trouble you have now on me.”

Sharon hated herself for thinking it, but she almost believed him. The arrogant man she remembered was gone. In his place stood a beaten man who appeared content to live his life simply. He looked too scared of being connected to the photographs to have taken the risk again. Then again, he’d been a good liar once before.

“I hope you realize they’re harsher on repeat offenders if you’re lying,” Richard said.

“Hey, don’t make assumptions you can’t prove.”

Sharon glanced over. A muscle throbbed in Richard’s temple, a sure sign he was holding back his anger and disgust at Tony. This time she squeezed his hand to calm him down.

“Listen, all I want to know is how someone could have gotten ahold of one of the photos,” Richard asked in a controlled voice.

“And I’m telling you the police have them all.”

Sharon gripped the fence harder. “Tony, you have a family you want to protect. I understand that. But if I don’t find out who’s blackmailing me, I won’t ever have a family. Don’t I deserve that chance? Don’t you think you owe me at least that?” she asked, her voice rising.

Tony exhaled hard.

“Honey, don’t you think you should tell her?” The woman from the sandbox walked up beside him, holding the child in her arms.

Tony stiffened.

“Tell me what?”

The brunette put her hand on his shoulder. “A few months ago, Tony got an anonymous phone call.”

“What did they want?” Richard asked before Sharon could.

Tony groaned. “The same thing you do. The person wanted to know if I had copies of the pictures.”

“All the pictures?” Sharon asked. “Of all the women?”

He shook his head. “Just you.”

She winced. “And what did you say?”

He slung an arm over the fence. “Again, I told them what I told the rest of you. I have no damn photos. The cops took everything.”

“Why keep this to yourself?” Richard asked. “Why didn’t you just admit it to us when we asked?”

He rolled his eyes. “For one thing, I didn’t know those friends of yours from Adam, so I wasn’t telling them anything.”

“And me? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because…” He leaned closer to them, whispering the rest. “The person who called me was an ex-con I’d met in prison. He was trying to make a buck by getting his hands on those pictures for someone and selling them. I’m not supposed to have contact with anyone I met in the joint. And I don’t intend to violate my parole and screw up my life again.”

Richard nodded slowly, seemingly more satisfied with this answer. “What’s the guy’s name? The one you met in prison?”

Tony kicked at the dirt in front of him. Obviously he didn’t want to get any more involved than he already was.

“Stan. Stan Mancusi,” the woman beside him said softly.

“Calls himself Stan the Man,” Tony muttered. “He’s into petty shit. Anything to make a buck. And he’s local,” he added grudgingly. “You can probably find him in any one of the seedier bars on the docks in Salem.”

“Thank you,” Sharon said.

Tony shrugged. “Felicia’s right. I owe you,” he said without meeting her gaze.

Sharon glanced at the other woman. “I appreciate it.” And she hoped Tony would give Felicia the kind of life she deserved.

Sharon and Richard were silent on the way back to the car.

Once inside, Richard turned to her and asked, “Why did you say you might never have the family you want?”

“Because we obviously have a lot to discuss when this blackmail thing is over. If you have to drop out or if the picture or pictures are published, I’ll be responsible for ruining your career and your dreams. I don’t expect you to forgive me for that.”

He shook his head harshly and turned the key in the ignition. “Damn, you don’t give me enough credit. Or maybe you just judge all men by that dirtbag’s example and I never realized it until now. Do you think that whatever we have to discuss will stop us from getting married? Or that I would really hold something that happened to you against you?”

She didn’t answer. It seemed every time she tried to speak, she made things worse between them.

All Sharon could do now was throw herself into the search for her blackmailer…and see what happened between her and Richard when all was said and done.

DEREK DROPPED HOLLY OFF with his father for lunch. No sooner was she gone than he turned to Gabrielle. “What was in the note?” he asked. He’d been dying to know for the past half hour.

“A name.” She pulled the paper out of her bag. “Does the name Harry Winters mean anything to you?”

Derek narrowed his gaze. “That’s the guy who lives near my uncle Edward. His only neighbor. If anyone in town is as much of a loner as my uncle, it would be Harry Winters.”

Gabrielle leaned back in her seat. “Any idea why Mary Perkins’s former assistant thinks the name would be important to me?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. I’ll tell you on the way.” He shifted the SUV into Drive.

“On the way where?”

“To pay Mr. Winters a visit. I think we’re about to make the connection between who wants you out of town and why.”

Ten minutes later, Derek pulled onto the long road that led to his uncle’s house. He’d visited Edward on his arrival back home, but he hadn’t been here since. He had his reasons.

Gabrielle glanced out the car window at the trees lining the road. “Are those jujus?” she asked, incredulously staring at the items hanging from tree branches.

Derek nodded. “How the hell do you know about jujus?” He hadn’t known until his most recent visit.

Apparently his uncle had decided to do whatever he could to ward off the curse and any other impending evil by learning about New Orleans voodoo. He’d decided to obtain jujus-objects made from something that had once been alive, tree bark among other things-as protection.

“You’ve obviously never read one of my books!” she said, laughing and accusing him at the same time.

His face flushed hot. “Guilty. I’ve always been curious, but I don’t get a lot of time to read.”

She shook her head softly. “It’s okay,” she told him. “I’m just busting your chops. But you can’t conduct research on the paranormal and odd cultural beliefs without coming across at least one reference to jujus.”

They came to the end of the road where two lone houses came into view.

“Is that a totem pole?” She leaned forward in her seat.

He nodded and groaned. “You can get a better look up close. There are several of them. My uncle heard that they offered protection. He took it a little far,” Derek said wryly.

“You think?” Her sarcasm and amusement were clear.

He parked and turned her way. “I can’t leave my SUV in plain view and not stop in and say hello to my uncle. If he makes you uncomfortable, you can wait here. I won’t be long.” Derek started to get out of the vehicle.

“Wait!” Her eyes lit up unexpectedly. “I’d love to say hello to your uncle.”

“And get a look at his craziness firsthand?” He’d hoped to keep his ornery uncle and Gabrielle far apart. “He may be a recluse, but he isn’t so isolated that gossip doesn’t reach him. I’m sure he knows by now that you’re writing about the curse. You can see how far he’ll go to keep it from touching him. I doubt he’s pleased you’re stirring that pot.”

She unhooked her seat belt. “I really don’t mind if he’s a little gruff with me. I understand his point of view. But even your father softened enough toward me to take Holly so I could stay with you until things blow over. And we washed Fred together without incident. I’ll be nice to Uncle Edward. Take me with you, please?” She clasped her hands together in mock begging.

“You don’t know Uncle Edward,” he warned her.

She rolled her eyes. “I can handle him.” She’d already opened the car door and scrambled out.

Derek drew a deep breath and joined her.

They reached the front door and he rang the bell.

“Red dust,” she murmured, kneeling down to run her fingers over the dust at the entrance of the house.

“That I can’t explain.”

“I can,” Gabrielle said. “New Orleans tradition holds that if you clean the front steps with red brick dust, it protects the entrance and keeps bad energy and negative people away.”

“Figures.” He rang the doorbell once more.

The door opened no more than half an inch. “Who’s there?”

“It’s your nephew, Derek.” He shot Gabrielle an “I told you so” look.

Edward opened the door the rest of the way. “You aren’t alone.”

Derek shook his head. “No. Do you remember Gabrielle Donovan? I went to high school with her.”

“The one who’s writing about the curse that’s destroyed our family?”

Derek tipped his head toward her.

Gabrielle stepped forward. “Mr. Corwin, I’d love to talk to you if you’d let me in. I have nothing but the utmost respect for what you and your family have been through.”