“Actually, I’ll leave it for now.” I hastily back away. “But, you know…fab pots. Thanks so much for showing them to me. And good luck with the black and morbid human urges!” I add brightly, as I swivel on my heel.

Crikey. I had no idea pottery was so deep and depressing. I thought it was, you know, just clay and stuff. But on the plus side, a bright idea came to me while we were talking. I’ll read Raymond’s entry in the booklet about the artists and see if any clues come up.

I retreat to the side of the tent, perch myself on a handy stool, and flick through until I find him. Raymond Earle, Local Artist.

Born in Flagstaff, Raymond Earle…blah blah…career in industrial design…blah blah…local philanthropist and supporter of the arts…blah…love of nature…blah…greatly inspired by Pauline Audette…has for many years corresponded with Pauline Audette…would like to dedicate this exhibition to Pauline Audette…

I turn the page and nearly fall off my stool in shock.

No way. No way.

That can’t be—

I mean…Seriously?

As I stare at the page, I suddenly find myself laughing out loud. It’s too extraordinary. It’s too weird! But can we use this?

Of course we can, I tell myself firmly. It’s too good a chance. We have to use it.

A couple nearby is eyeing me oddly, and I beam at them.

“Sorry. I just saw something quite interesting. It’s a great read!” I wave the booklet at them. “You should get one!”

As they move away, I stay perched on my stool, glancing down at the booklet every so often, my mind spinning with ideas. I’m making plans upon plans. I’m getting little adrenaline rushes. And for the first time in ages, I’m feeling a kind of excitement. A determination. A positive spirit.

—

I stay in the tent for a while longer, till Mum and Janice come back. As I see them making their way through the mêlée, I can’t help blinking in astonishment. Mum is wearing a pink Stetson and a matching belt with silver studs all over it. Janice is lugging a banjo and wearing a fringed leather waistcoat. Both are flushed in the face, although I can’t tell if that’s from sunburn or rushing about or too much bourbon-laced iced tea.

“Any sign?” demands Mum as soon as she sees me.

“No.”

“It’s nearly seven!” Mum looks fretfully at her watch. “The day’s almost gone!”

“He might come along at the end of the exhibition,” I say. “You never know.”

“I suppose so.” Mum sighs. “Well, we’ll take over till it closes. Where are you going to go now?”

“I’ve got to shoot off and—” I stop myself mid-sentence. I can’t say, I’ve got to support Suze while she confronts her blackmailing former lover. I mean, Suze and my mum are close, but not that close.

“I’m going to see Suze,” I say at length. “I’ll catch up with you later, OK?” I smile at Mum, but she doesn’t see. She’s looking round the tent bleakly.

“What if we don’t find this Raymond?” As she turns back, her face has sagged into little creases of dejection. “Are we going to give up? Go home?”

“Actually, Mum, I’ve got a bit of a plan,” I say encouragingly. “I’ll tell you later. But now you should have a nice sit-down and relax.” I drag a couple of spare chairs from the side of the tent. “There we are. Why don’t I buy you each a lovely cool drink? Janice, is that a banjo?”

“I’m going to teach myself, love,” says Janice enthusiastically as she sits down. “I’ve always wanted to play the banjo. We can have a nice sing-along in the RV!”

If I had to picture the one thing most likely to get on Luke’s nerves as he’s driving, it’s a sing-along with a banjo.

“Er…great!” I say. “Sounds perfect. I’ll just get you both an iced tea.”

I quickly buy a pair of peach iced teas from the refreshment stand, give them to Mum and Janice, and then dash away. It’s very nearly seven, and I’m starting to feel horrible jitters in my stomach, so God only knows what Suze is feeling.

We’d agreed to meet at the hog-roast tent and then head together to the meeting spot. But as I round the corner of the tent, I receive a shock. Alicia is standing with Suze. Why is Alicia standing with Suze?

“Oh, hi, Alicia,” I say, trying to sound friendly. “I thought you had a meeting in Tucson.”

Meeting in Tucson. Honestly. It sounds less and less likely, the more I say it.

“I thought I’d come on afterward and meet you,” says Alicia in sober tones. “And a good thing I did. This is unbelievable.”

“I’ve told Alicia,” says Suze tremulously.

“You mustn’t feel guilty, Suze.” Alicia puts a hand on Suze’s elbow. “Bryce is poison.”

I shoot Alicia a look of dislike. I hate people who say, You mustn’t feel guilty. What they really mean is: I’m just reminding you that you should feel guilty.

“Everyone makes mistakes,” I say briskly. “The important thing is to get rid of Bryce, once and for all. So we’d better go.”

“Alicia’s going to come for moral support too,” says Suze—and is it my imagination or is there an apologetic tone to her voice?

“Oh, right.” I force myself to smile. “Great! So you’re all set?” I look at Suze. “You know what you’re going to say?”

“I think so.” Suze nods.

“Hey, you guys! Here you are!” Danny’s voice hails us. We all swivel round to see him carrying a stick of cotton candy in one hand and an iced tea in the other, his portfolio wedged awkwardly under one arm. He comes to a halt and surveys us more closely. “Hey, what’s going on?”

If Suze can tell Alicia, then I can tell Danny, I decide. And he’ll find out, anyway.

“Bryce is here,” I say succinctly. “Suze is going to confront him. He’s been trying to blackmail her. Long story.”

“I knew it!” exclaims Danny. “I said that all along.”

“No, you didn’t!” I protest.

“I suspected it.” He turns to Suze. “You slept with him, right?”

“Wrong,” snaps Suze.

“But you fooled around. Does Tarkie know?”

“Yes. I’ve told him everything.”

“Oh, wow.” Danny raises his eyebrows, nibbling his cotton candy. “Kudos to you, Suze.”

“Thank you,” says Suze in dignified tones.

“But…wait.” I can see Danny’s mind working hard. “I thought Bryce was trying to rip off Tarkie for his new yoga center. You mean he’s trying to rip you off too? Husband and wife?”

“Apparently,” continues Suze frostily.

“He’s good,” says Danny with feeling. “Hey, Alicia, what do you make of all this? Looks like Bryce might just build that center. Ready for the competition?”

Danny’s so wicked. I know he’s just trying to wind Alicia up.

“He will not,” says Alicia coolly. “There is absolutely no way that character is going to threaten Golden Peace with some second-rate rival outfit. Believe me, Wilton will not let it happen.” She looks at her watch. “We should go.”

“Yes, we should,” Suze agrees.

“Let’s do it.” Danny nods.

“You’re not coming,” insists Suze.

“Sure I am,” says Danny, unfazed. “You can’t have too much moral support. You want an iced tea?” He hands her his plastic glass. “It’s practically a hundred percent bourbon.”

“Thanks,” says Suze reluctantly, and takes a sip. “Bloody hell!” she splutters.

“Told you.” Danny grins. “Want some more?”

“No, thanks.” Suze lifts her chin in determination. “I’m ready.”

—

As we march toward the meeting place, no one says anything. We’re a posse, flanking Suze, ready to defend her. And we’re not going to take any shit from Bryce. We’re going to stand firm, and resolute, and not get distracted by his looks—

Oh God, there he is. He’s leaning casually against a closed-up coffee stand, his skin all burnished and golden, with denim-blue eyes focused on something in the distance. He looks like a Calvin Klein model. Mmmm shoots through my brain before I can stop it. Argh. Bad, bad brain…

And then his eyes snap to, and his personality rushes into his face, and my Mmmm instantly withers. I can’t believe I ever saw him as anything but odious.

“Suze.” He seems taken aback to see all of us. “You brought reinforcements, huh?”

“Bryce, I have something to say to you,” Suze says, her voice trembling and her eyes fixed past his shoulder, just like I told her. “You can’t blackmail me. I’m not giving you any money, and I request that you leave my husband and me alone. There is nothing you can tell him that will damage me. I have been utterly frank and open with him. You have no power over me, and I request that you desist from contacting me.”

“Desist” was my word. I think it sounds nice and legal.

I squeeze Suze’s hand encouragingly and whisper, “Brilliant!” She’s still staring fixedly into the middle distance, so I take the opportunity to sneak a quick look at Bryce. His face is calm, but I can tell from his eyes that he’s thinking.

“Blackmail?” he says at last, and breaks into a hearty laugh. “Now, that’s an extreme word. I ask you for a donation to a worthy cause and you call it blackmail?”

“A worthy cause?” echoes Suze in disbelief.

“A worthy cause?” exclaims Alicia, who seems more outraged than anybody. “How dare you! I’ve heard what you’re up to, Bryce, and, believe me, you will never succeed.” She takes a step forward, her chin thrust out aggressively. “You will never have our resources. You will never have our power. My husband will crush your paltry efforts to rival us. I’ve already informed him of your plan, and it won’t even see the light of day. And by the time Wilton has finished with you, Bryce…” She pauses. “You’ll wish you’d never even thought of it.”