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stuff, after all?”
    “No, it doesn't. I plan to go ahead with the catalog business, Blade, but it looks like I'll have to find another start-up consultant. Mr. Ventress decided I wasn't a suitable client. Apparently, I didn't meet his high standards.”
    Blade was silent for a long time while he considered that information. “He give you a bad time?”
    “Ah, no,” Serenity said hastily. “No, he didn't. It was just a business decision on his part.”
    “You want me to go see him? Talk to him for you?”
    Serenity could imagine all too clearly what Blade's notion of a conversation with Caleb would be like. She would no doubt wind up being sued. Still, it was sweet of Blade to make the offer. She was touched. Blade never left Witt's End if he could avoid it. He didn't function well in the outside world.
    “No, really, it's okay, Blade. The decision was mutual. I decided I don't particularly care to do business with Mr. Ventress any more than he wants to do business with me.”
    “You're sure?”
    “I'm sure.” Serenity smiled with rueful affection. “But thanks, anyway.”
    “Where you headed?”
    “I'm going to Ambrose's cabin. I want to talk to him.”
    Blade nodded once. “Right. Sure you won't get lost in this fog?”
    “It's not that bad. I'll be all right.”
    “Guess me and the dogs better be movin' along, then.” Blade studied the gray mist with a speculative gleam in his steel-blue eyes. “Just don't like the feel of things today.”
    “I understand. But don't you think it's a little too foggy for a successful clandestine operation?”
    “Can't be too careful.” Blade summoned the silent rottweilers with a movement of his hand. “No tellin' when they'll make their move.”
    “True.”
    He touched the peaked bill of his cap. “Have a nice day.”
    “Thanks. You, too.” Serenity stood with her hands tucked into her pockets and watched as Blade and the rottweilers disappeared into the gray mists. When they were gone, she turned and started once more toward Ambrose's cabin.
    It occurred to her that it would have been interesting to see the expression on Caleb's face had Blade actually turned up to confront him in his office. She sighed with regret, knowing that there was nothing to be gained from dreams of revenge. She had to think about the future. There were new plans to be made. For starters, she would have to find a new consultant.
    A few minutes later Serenity emerged from the trees into the small clearing that surrounded Ambrose's log cabin. She studied the windows curiously and wondered why there were no lights showing. On a foggy day like this, it would be quite dark inside the cabin.
    There was no sign of smoke from the chimney, either, she noticed. She hoped Ambrose had not passed out drunk, as he was occasionally prone to do. She had a few questions to ask him, and she wanted some answers.
    She determinedly approached the front steps of the cabin. The deal with Caleb had been shot down in flames and there was no saving it, but she intended to find out who had pulled the trigger.
    She could not believe that Ambrose had been the person behind the blackmail scheme, but of one thing she was certain: whoever had sent her those photos had to have gotten them from him. Ambrose was the man who possessed the negatives and the only person, so far as she knew, who had a set of the pictures.
    Serenity climbed the steps to Ambrose's door and knocked loudly. There was no immediate response.
    “Ambrose, I know you're in there. Open the door. I want to talk to you.”
    The answering silence began to make her uneasy. “Ambrose?”
    Serenity tried the doorknob. It turned readily enough, as did most doorknobs in Witt's End. Nobody bothered to lock their doors in this neck of the woods. There had never been any need to take such precautions.
    She opened the cabin door cautiously and peered into the gloom.
    The sense of wrongness hit her in a cold wave. Serenity stood very still on the