itting beside Paris in the late-afternoon traffic on the way home from the café, Sloan felt as if the magic of the last few hours had spread its beauty over all of Palm Beach. Overhead, the sky was a brilliant blue, the clouds whiter, fluffier. The ocean was more majestic, the beach prettier. Colors were more vivid, sounds were soothing, and the sea air blowing against her face was a benediction, not just a breeze.

Yesterday, Paris and she had been strangers who thought of each other as adversaries; now they were sisters who thought of each other as allies. She glanced at Paris, and Paris's answering smile was filled with the same wonder and delight that Sloan felt.

"We didn't have time to talk about Paul and you," Paris said as they neared the house. "Are you serious about him?"

Sloan hesitated, struck by the sudden, unhappy realization that this wonderful, fragile new relationship with her sister was going to be jeopardized in the future by the lies she and Paul had perpetrated on Paris. If Paul found no evidence that incriminated Carter, then Paris could at least be spared the truth about their reason for coming to Palm Beach. In that event, Sloan would have to come up with some reason for having kept her job a secret. But if the evidence did turn up, then Paris would soon know the full extent of their deception, and Sloan was afraid of how she'd react.

Either way, Sloan was trapped. She couldn't say anything that might impede Paul's investigation, so she resolved to stick as closely to the truth as possible so that Paris would have fewer reasons to feel duped no matter what happened to Carter. "The truth is we're just friends. I was… uneasy… about coming here. Paul convinced me I should, and he… volunteered… to come with me."

"For moral support," Paris concluded. "He's so nice. He's someone you just know you can trust."

Sloan made a mental note never to rely on Paris's judgment of men. "What about Noah and you?" she said, eager to shift the focus away from herself. "Carter told me the two of you are practically engaged."

"Father is determined to make it happen. I've told him I don't want to marry Noah, but he just can't understand."

"Why not?"

Paris flashed her a winsome smile. "Probably because Noah is gorgeous, brilliant, and incredibly rich, and women make fools of themselves over him. However, Noah doesn't want to marry me either, and so we made a secret deal that solves the whole problem."

"What sort of deal?"

"Noah isn't going to propose," she said with a laugh as she turned into the driveway. The gates opened automatically, without Paris stopping to press the call button or using any kind of electronic opener. Sloan's attention switched to the house's security system out of concern for Paris's safety, and then because she realized the information might also be vital to Paul and her. "Aren't you ever afraid here?"

"Of what?"

"Thieves. Prowlers at night. This place is the size of a museum. If I were a thief, I'd figure there were lots of things inside it worth stealing."

"We're very safe," Paris assured her. "Besides the fence, we have infrared beams all around the perimeter of the property. They're turned on automatically with the alarm system at night. Also, there are ten cameras positioned around the property. Are you afraid here?"

"I—I guess I always think about security and safety," Sloan said, trying to stick as closely to the truth as possible for the sake of her future relationship with Paris.

"That's why you took a self-defense course," Paris concluded, and immediately tried to reassure her with more information. "If you get worried, you can turn on any television set in the house and see whatever the cameras are seeing. Tune to channel ninety, then go right on through to channel one hundred. That will show you all the camera views of the property. At least, I think those are the right channels, but Gary will know for sure. I'll ask him. Father had Gary arrange for the new security system."

"Thank you—" Sloan said lamely.

"Also, if you hear or see something that really scares you, you can pick up any desk-style phone in the house, press the pound key, and hold it down. But don't try that unless you really think there's a problem. I did it accidentally once when the system was first installed. I was trying to open the gates from the house, but I forgot to press the intercom button before I held down the pound key."

"What happens when you do that?"

"Everything," Paris said with a giggle. "An alarm goes directly to the police station, the sirens on the house start screaming, and all the lights on the property, inside and outside, turn on and start flashing."

Sloan thought that sounded rather like the integrated telephone-security setups that had caused Karen Althorp and Dr. Pembroke so much embarrassment in Bell Harbor.

Paris drove around the side of the house to a six-car garage, and one of the garage doors opened automatically. "I haven't seen you use a gate opener or a garage door opener," Sloan said.

"There's an electronic gadget hidden somewhere on our cars. When you drive up to the garage, the gadget on the car talks to the gadget on the correct garage door and opens it. The same gadget opened the gates for us when we turned into the drive just now."

"It sounds like no one who shouldn't be here can get in or out," Sloan observed as Paris parked the car in her garage stall.

"Anyone can get out once Nordstrom has let them in. There are sensors under the pavestones that open the gates when the weight of a car rolls over them. Otherwise, Nordstrom would have to be on hand to open the gates every time a delivery truck or servant needed to leave."

"You are truly part of the electronic age," Sloan told her with a smile.

"Father is extremely security conscious." Sloan was afraid he probably had more than one reason for that.