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Robbie?”
    “Well…” I had no rebuttal.
    We sat down to eat, Michael’s eyes burning a hole in my chest.
    “Look,” he began. “I know you’ve always been a charmer, but is it possible she’s a gold digger? We have a well-known family name, money. Do you think that—”
    “No!” I interrupted. “She’s due to inherit a fortune. She doesn’t need my money. And she didn’t even know me until two days ago.”
    “Okay, maybe she’s a tease, a girl who decided to screw up your life just for kicks. There are girls who enjoy that kind of thing.”
    “Hell, Mike, I know that stuff happens, but I can’t buy that either. She’s more confused and frustrated about what’s going on than me.”
    “All right, option three—the hard one. What you’re feeling is real, just what you say it is.”
    “Okay. Where does that leave us?” I asked. The juicy tenderloins remained untouched. I looked at him. He looked back, shaking his head.
    “Shit, Robbie, how do I know?” He exhaled.
    I paused, wondering whether to show him the envelope. Why not? He already thought I had punched a one-way ticket for the nearest asylum.
    “There’s something else.”
    “What more can there be?”
    I left the table and went outside, stumbling down the long staircase. When I got to the Jag, I took the envelope and came back inside.
    “This. Someone slipped it under my door today.”
    “Someone did what?” Michael asked as he spread the contents on the table. He scanned the articles, looking up as he did. Mike was the role model for the term “quick study.” After being badly wounded on D-Day, he’d been a superb intelligence analyst. My brother scanned the pieces. I stood and paced. When he was done, he pushed back, balancing himself on two rough-hewn chair legs.
    “Whoa.” He cleared his throat. His expression had changed. He rubbed his forehead. “Someone’s trying to tell you something. Maybe warn you. What do you know about this girl you haven’t told me?”
    “I’ve told you everything. Well, almost. I think Jonathan put that stuff in my room. He doesn’t like Courtney.”
    “He doesn’t like Courtney,” he repeated soberly, shaking his head. “Let’s back up to the ‘almost’ part of the conversation, Robert.” He stood and pushed me toward one of the overstuffed chairs in the living room.
    “Well, she can communicate with animals and wears this real strange necklace and talks about being a witch and I swear she can read my mind.”
    He stared at me, shaking his head. “Have you read this stuff?”
    I nodded.
    “Come on. People die mysteriously and Courtney happens to be the only witness. Signs of witchcraft. And you told me her father sent her away after her mother died in a riding accident? Jesus. Rob, I’ve served over there. You and I may think this is something out of a dime novel, but I have to tell you, a lot of those folks believe in…” He let his words die as he shook his head again. After a short silence he stood and laughed out loud. “So, my younger brother is involved with a witch.”
    “Come on. You don’t believe in witchcraft, Michael. And if she was involved with those deaths the police would have…”
    “Look, Robbie, you’re my younger brother and you know I love you. But you have to admit, there’s some crazy shit going on here.”
    Staring at him, I had an epiphany.
    “Can you do something for me, Michael?” I begged.
    “Hell, for my baby brother, I’ll try. What?” A frown spoiled his face.
    “You know people over there. In Special Branch and DMI. Don’t they call it MI-5 now? Could you talk to them? They may know something, maybe play detective for an old buddy?” I was asking more than I had a right to. But if there was any chance to get to the truth, I had to take it. “If something is out of line, I’ll walk away,” I promised, knowing I could no more do that than fly the Jaguar across the English Channel. “But if this is what it looks like—smoke and