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He snapped his head back, but he smiled again. "Sooo, what are you doin' in here?" He gazed at the canvas. "You can't draw or paint. You're the sista without talent, remember?" He laughed sharply and steadied himself by taking hold of the back of a chair.

"I remember how much I despised you," I said. "You were like a leech, swimming in here when my father died and attaching yourself to the family to suck whatever you could out of it. But that's all over now, and nothing you say, no matter how outrageous it might seem, will get you back. Now, go before Beau returns."

His smile widened and some drool leaked out of the corners of his mouth. "You weren't always so eager to send me away," he said, moving closer. I stepped to the side, the paintbrush still in my hand. I was holding it like a sword between us. He stared at me a moment, his eyes opening and closing with his attempts to focus sharply. And then he looked at the canvas again.

"You don't sheem too upset 'bout your sista bein' in a bad way," he said.

"Why should I? Would she be upset if it was me in the hospital?"

"You know she would," he replied softly, and closed his eyes for a moment. Then he snapped them open as if a thought had just made its way into his clogged brain. "Ya don't sound like yourself either." He looked at the canvas again. "Thass too good for you ta have done. Was it here before?"

"Yes."

"I thawt show. I mean, I thought so." He smiled again and then he grew as serious as he could, trying to straighten his tie as he corrected his posture. "I want you ta help me convince Beau he should be a little more reasonable about this family fortune. I know some of the shady tax schemes Daphne did and I'm willing ta go to the government and expose them," he threatened.

"So go. You didn't have your hands clean either, did you? You'd only be exposing yourself for what you were and what you probably still are."

He smiled with confidence and more sobriety. "Yeah, but you know how it is when someone turns state's evidence. He gets leniency. I can see to it that this estate gets some terrific fines. How would you and your high-society husband do then, huh?"

"We'll be all right. Get out, Bruce, before I have Aubrey call the police."

He raked his eyes over me scornfully. "What if I told your husband about the time I came to see you while you were taking your bubble bath? Remember how I washed your back and gave you that massage and then--"

"I've already told him," I blurted.

He stared at me a moment. "I don't believe you."

"So don't. I don't care. Just get out."

My determination and lack of fear annoyed and confused him. "I took some papers out of here. I'm warning you two. I can prove my accusations."

"Then go prove them."

"You're crazy. Both of you are crazy." He stared at me a moment longer and then looked at the canvas again. One of his eyebrows jerked up quizzically. My resistance had sobered him quickly and gotten him thinking.

"That's not an old picture. The paint's still wet. How did you do that? You can't do that." His eyes narrowed into slits that reminded me of snake's eyes. "Something's not right here." His words had the impact of bullets.

"Get out!" I screamed. "Get out!"

His eyes brightened with a possibility. "La Ruby," he said. "You're La Ruby. What's going on?"

"Get out!" I charged at him and he put his arms up. Just then, Beau appeared in the doorway. He lunged into the room and seized Bruce by the back of the neck and turned him roughly toward the door.

"What are you doing in our house! I told you not to come here, didn't I?" He pushed him toward the door. Bruce regained his balance and looked back at us. His face was magenta with rage.

"What are you two up to, huh? This isn't Gisselle. I know Gisselle. She has a harder look in her eyes."

"You're ridiculous," Beau said, but not with enough confidence. Bruce was buoyed. He smiled.

"This is some sort of scam to get you two more money or something, isn't it? tell everyone."

"Go ahead," Beau said. "Everyone will believe the words of a drunken, pathetic gambler. The whole city's talking about you and the way you've degenerated. You have as much credibility as a convicted serial killer."

Bruce nodded. "All right. I'll get proof, that's what I'll do. Unless you two get sensible and cut me in on what is rightly mine anyway. I'll call you in a couple of days and see if you want to be smart or greedy," he said.

"Get out of here before I break your neck," Beau said, moving toward him. Bruce backed away and started down the corridor. Beau followed him all the way to the front entrance, opening it and pushing him out. Bruce voiced one final threat before the doors closed.

"The whole city is going to know what you're up to!" he cried, shaking his fist.