"You two were completely alone in this room, weren't you?" Tara was saying. "The whole time… I could tell."

Myles shrugged a bit. "It's easier to concentrate on the music if you can block out your audience. That's all."

She slugged him on the shoulder, grinning. "Right. And you're going to tell me that you two weren't completely lost in each other. Nice try." Now she wrapped her arm around his and squeezed slightly. "It was absolutely breathtaking," she said softly. "Sam filled me in a little just before you started to play. This is what's wound you up every holiday season since I've known you, isn't it?"

"And then some," he replied. "I'm not sure now how I'm going to explain the change to the rest of the team. Someone's bound to notice. Even Lucy never knew about this. But I don't really want to go back to being 'Scrooge' all season now; would diminish what happened here tonight. Still, too much of a change all at once would raise a few eyebrows…"

Tara looked at him in gentle exasperation. "Why don't you just get over that Leland pride around the rest of us, who've considered you family all these years no matter how obnoxious you can get, and tell them the truth? It's not like it's going to destroy that carefully orchestrated 'image' of yours. Oh, I'm sure Bobby will give you a bit of grief over it, but you can live with that. It's not like he won't find something new ten minutes later."

Myles had to laugh. "True. Tell you what; I'll think about it."

"I can always crash his computer so he has other worries than razzing you," she quipped mischievously.

"That's okay," he grinned back. "Since you've more than proven I can trust you, I'll fill you in on something that I can distract him with." He whispered in her ear for a moment; she drew back, astonished. "Now, not a word," he admonished with a secretive smile. "You'll spoil all my fun."

Tara shook her head. "Too many more secrets, and I'm not even going to know you any more," she smiled. "But you have my word. I'll not tell a soul, and I'll even protect your Scrooge image so he still won't have a clue."

"Deal. Uh-oh," he said, looking over to where Sam and Elizabeth were just breaking free from a conversation with a young lady. Myles started chuckling before they even reached him and Tara.

Sam's face was utterly bewildered, and Elizabeth was trying and failing to hide a smirk.

"Uh, Myles?" Sam began, a little hesitantly. "Can you think of any reason why Miss… uh, Damien, I think her name was, would think that the fact we're twins would be… uh… 'positively luscious,' I think were her words?"

Tara started to laugh, too, which made Sam blush and look even more disconcerted.

Myles reigned in his chuckle with a bit of difficulty, and attempted to explain. "Lori Damien has been chasing me for about five years now. Fortunately, this is the only time I ever see her, and she's the main reason my home phone is unlisted. I'm sure she was utterly devastated to find that I'm engaged, so to discover that I have a twin…"

Sam didn't look much relieved. "Oh."

Tara giggled softly and took his arm. "You're spoken for, too, Sam; so she'll just have to give up."

The relief on his face was evident. "Can I tell her that?"

"Of course," Tara replied, glancing over his shoulder. "In fact, here's your chance right now."

He flinched, then turned to find the petite blonde weaving her way toward them; the girl was positively predatory until she saw Tara's arm firmly linked with Sam's. Myles unconsciously put an arm around Elizabeth's waist and pulled her a bit closer.

"Miss Damien," Myles said cordially, "How very nice to see you again."

The girl's brown eyes danced over him seductively. "Myles. I must say, that was absolutely beautiful tonight; how nice of your grandmother to finally find you a proper accompanist." Her gaze flickered to Elizabeth as if surveying a target. "And then to find that you have a twin brother; my evening is just getting better and better." The practiced smile and seductive gaze had Sam fidgeting a bit, and Tara fuming.

Elizabeth simply smiled. "How nice that you could be here for this performance, Miss Damien. But Margaret didn't 'find' me, and I think that Teresa deserves a medal for enduring all this for so long." When she saw the dark eyes go cold, the psychologist added, "I'm sorry; how rude of me. Dr. Elizabeth Dillingham, Myles' fiancée."

Propriety took over, all except in Lori's eyes. "Of course. How do you do?" She extended a hand. Then a sweetly practiced smile appeared, and they could almost hear the touch of venom in the soft voice. "Dillingham… from the Cambridge family, yes? Oh, that's right; you're the lady who was being targeted by that awful Black Rose killer."

Elizabeth felt Myles stir next to her, and saw Tara start to take a step, but she stilled them both with a slight motion of her hand. She knew exactly where Miss Damien was going with this, and she wasn't about to give her the satisfaction. "That's right," she replied smoothly.

"How dreadful. All those poor girls…" Now Lori looked Elizabeth straight in the eye, and the false sympathy was enough that it should have choked her on the spot. "How must it feel to know that eight people are dead because of you?"

Sam was ready to strangle her as well at this point, but the psychologist stopped him also. She took a single step forward and faced Lori alone. Her voice lowered to almost a whisper, but it developed the same syrupy quality she was getting form the socialite. "You should be grateful, Lori. His victims were random, except for their initials. My goodness," she said, as if the thought had just occurred to her, "if Evan Graham hadn't discovered my friendship with Rachel DeLacy, he could have just as easily chosen you as victim number eight. Since we share the same last initial."

Now she narrowed the gap even further, watching the younger woman's face pale. "I didn't cause those deaths. Those lives were taken by a killer's choice, not mine. And dragging up the past isn't going to snag you a gentleman you've been chasing in vain for five years. So you may as well give it up." Her voice stayed even, but there was no doubt that she meant every word.

Lori's eyes narrowed, even as she kept up the polished mask. "Well, then," she replied sweetly, "perhaps I can charm the newest Leland brother to enchant this soirée." She turned toward Sam, only to find Tara between them.

"Tara Williams," the petite agent said by way of introduction. "And I think you'll find I'm not nearly as refined as the rest of the group here. Sam's spoken for as well, so you can pull in your manicured claws, Miss Kitten."

Lori's gaze flickered to Sam, but he simply put his arms around Tara from behind and shrugged, a twinkle forming in his eye all the same. "Sorry, Miss Damien," he said politely, "I saw her first."

The brown eyes blazed, but she did make one last attempt. "Well, perhaps you simply need an opportunity to sample 'the field' as it were, Mr. Leland. I don't see a ring on Miss Williams' finger. There's always hope." The smile she turned on him was designed to melt even the most dedicated man.

"Don't think so," Sam replied with a grin, dropping the "society face," "Somehow, I don't think you could beat her at Super MarioKart, and that's the only criteria I'm interested in."

Lori's face crumpled in confusion, and Sam's grin just got wider. "You mean, you don't know the story of the long-lost Leland twin who's off his rocker and totally caught up in a world of video games?" He cast a mock-glare at his twin. "Myles, I'm hurt."

Myles shrugged. "Hey, Grandmother wanted it kept a secret from her society crowd; I just obliged." But he grinned at the look of horror on Lori's face. "You're just not having such a good evening after all, are you Lori? It was very nice to see you again, but if you'll excuse us, I think we've had enough frivolity for one evening."


x


As they gathered their coats and made their way over toward Reginald to say goodbye, Margaret Effingham approached the foursome. "Myles, may I have a word with you? In private?"

Her eyes were unreadable, and Myles exchanged a glance with Elizabeth, then with Sam. He got a pair of identical shrugs in response.

"I suppose that would be all right," he said, a bit warily. "Sweetheart, guys, I guess I'll meet you in a few minutes."

His grandmother led him into the room where earlier she'd had the conversation with her husband. She motioned Myles into a chair, and sat down on the velvet loveseat nearby; only the deep burgundy color and the dark walnut finish kept the piece from being overly pretentious.

He watched her carefully, looking for any minute signs of what she was thinking; Ten-plus years of surveillance and behavioral training, and I still can't figure her out, he thought, This could be anything from a guilt trip to an apology, neither of which is really her style. After a moment, he simply gave up and sat back, folding his hands in his lap. Or, it could be an opportunity to say something I've wanted to say for years…

Margaret toyed with the fringe on a gold pillow for a moment, then looked up at him. "Why didn't you ever say anything?" she asked. "I mean, I can understand when you were a teenager… but all these years…"

Myles met her eyes solemnly. "I could ask you the same thing, Grandmother," he replied. "You had to have known that Teresa, at the very least, was miserable. Yet you insisted, year after year, and made her a laughingstock to your 'circle.' It was cruel."

She blinked, taken aback by his candor; then her eyes dropped. "I realize that now. And I certainly didn't realize what I was doing to you, either. The fact that you always showed up without a word made me think that you found some peace in it during the rest of the year. I never knew that this was the only time your own violin ever came out of its case." Now she looked up at him again, and the polished mask was gone. "Can you forgive me?"

He gazed at her for a long time. The opportunity presents itself… His voice was soft but firm when he finally spoke. "I can; but I think there's someone else to whom you owe an apology far greater than this one."

She looked confused. "I've already apologized to Teresa."

"I'm not talking about Aunt Teresa, Grandmother." Now he stood, gearing up for what he needed to say. "Even with as much as you put me through, at least you acknowledged my existence. Sam wasn't so lucky."

Her eyes widened, but he didn't give her a chance to comment. "To have gone through what he did was bad enough; but to have his family reject him so completely when he got home was inexcusable. Mom and Dad at least tried; even Grandfather tried. But not you; you turned your back on him and pretended he never was. Even tonight; if he hadn't pushed the issue, and simply blended in with your other guests, you'd have never even acknowledged that he was here." His blue-grey eyes bored through her. "Would you?"

"I—" Her voice caught in her throat. She paused for a moment, then rose gracefully to her feet, meeting his gaze. "I don't suppose I would have. I do owe him an apology as well, then. It does sound as if he's doing well now."

"He's been through a lot this year, Grandmother. He's got a ways to go. But he'll do better if he has a little support. And I don't just mean by inviting him to your parties."

She nodded, and took him by the arm. "Then I guess I'd best go make an apology, and deliver you to your grandfather. He has something for you, I'm sure you know by now. And, by the way, your performance tonight was wonderful. I hope that perhaps you and Elizabeth would be willing to do it again next year?" She raised a hand at his reaction. "There's time enough to discuss it later. It's not a demand this time; merely an invitation."

He nodded, and kissed her cheek. "I'll ask her. That's all I can promise."


x


Leland Residence, Columbia Heights

Saturday, 11 p.m.

"What did you say to her?" Sam demanded as he stepped into the house after taking Tara home.

Myles turned from thumbing through the mail on the kitchen counter. "What did I say to whom?"

His twin perched on a stool. "Grandmother, that's who, and you know it. What did you say to her?" He leaned his arms on the counter and bored a gaze at Myles. "She was as contrite and apologetic as I've ever seen her, and that's saying a lot, considering. I assume she called you into private conference to sing your praises?"

The Harvard grad shrugged. "Actually, she wanted to know why I'd never said anything."

Sam laughed. "I don't believe this; the three of you— no, four, if you count Aunt Teresa— waltzing around each other all these years, and all you had to do was show a little backbone and tell her off. So, will you be performing next year?"

Myles shrugged again. "I honestly don't know, Sam. She invited us, made sure I knew it was simply an invitation this time, but after all these years… I don't know yet. I'll have to talk it over with Elizabeth."

Sam ran his hand over the Stradivarius case, which was lying on the counter. "Bet this one won't stay locked in the cabinet, huh? That was… tonight… I mean, you've tried to describe the tone of the Strad to me, but nothing comes close to actually hearing it…"

The agent sat down on the other stool and leaned on the counter as well, absently staring at the violin. "No, I suspect that this will get used. If for no other reason than Grandfather expects it, and Elizabeth likely won't let me walk away from it after tonight."

"Right," Sam grinned. "And that gleam in your eye has absolutely nothing to do with it."

Myles looked up at him, and knew it was useless. "You think I can get a good deal on a piano before Christmas? And find a place here for it?"

Sam smiled. "Only want to move it once, do you? You, dear twin, have a bit of a lazy streak. But I think you can probably fit a spinet in the dining room. I'm sure you'd rather surprise her with a baby grand, but I don't think you have quite that much room." He stood and stretched. "We can go look for one tomorrow, if you'd like. Well, I gotta get to bed.. you know early bird gets the worm... all that jazz."

"Good night, then."

As Sam headed for the guest room, he paused at the top of the stairs, looking back at his brother and wondering if perhaps he should have shared something that Margaret had said while they were talking. No, he thought after a moment. I explained their reasoning to her. No sense in getting him worked up. She wouldn't…

He shrugged and headed for his room.