He was taller than she’d realized, and she automatically stepped back so she didn’t have to tip her face up to keep an eye on him. The sun was streaming over his hair—a lot of thick, wavy brown hair with hints of chestnut. His hands were still clasping hers, firmly enough that she felt the ridge of callus on them.

“You sure you’re all right? Steady? You went down pretty hard.”

“I’m aware of that.” Painfully aware in the portion of her anatomy that had hit the sidewalk first. She crouched and began gathering what had spilled out of the box.

“I’ll get this stuff.” He crouched beside her, then stabbed a finger at the dog who was trying to inch his way toward them with the same stealth as an elephant tiptoeing across the African plain. “Stay, or there’s no treat for you.”

“Just get your dog. I don’t need any help here.” She snatched up her emergency cosmetic bag, tossed it in the box. And when she saw that she’d chipped a nail, she wanted to curl into a ball of self-pity and wail. Instead, she selected the temper button.

“You have no business being out on a public street with a dog of that size if you can’t control him. He’s just a dog, he doesn’t know any better, but you’re supposed to.”

“You’re right. You’re absolutely right. Um . . . this must be yours.”

He held out a strapless black bra.

Mortified, Malory grabbed it out of his hand, stuffed it in the box. “Go away now. Go very, very far away.”

“Listen, why don’t you let me carry that—”

“Carry your silly dog,” she snapped and, hefting the box, strode away with as much dignity as she could muster.

Flynn watched her go as Moe lumbered over to press his considerable weight against his master’s side. Absently, Flynn patted the massive head and enjoyed the indignant sway of feminine hips in a short skirt. He doubted that run in her stocking had been there before her encounter with Moe, but from his perspective it did nothing to detract from a pair of great legs.

“Pretty,” he said aloud as she slammed into a building halfway down the block. “And pretty steamed.” He glanced down at the hopefully grinning Moe. “Nice job, jerk-face.”

AFTER a hot shower, a change of clothes, and a medicinal bowl of cookie dough ice cream, Malory headed for the library. She hadn’t made any firm arrangements with her—she supposed they were her partners—the night before. As she was the first, she would have to be in charge.

They needed to have some sort of meeting, to go over the clue, to plot out a plan of action. She didn’t hold out any real hope of winning a million dollars, but she wasn’t going to shrug it off or go back on her word.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually been in the library. For some reason, going in made her feel like a student again, full of näıveté, hope, and an eagerness to learn.

The main area wasn’t large, and the tables were mostly unoccupied. She saw an older man reading the newspaper, a few people wandering the stacks, a woman with a toddler in tow at the checkout counter.

The place was so hushed, the ringing of a phone was like a shout. She glanced toward the sound, and the central island of counter. Dana sat there, a phone at her ear while her fingers clicked on a keyboard.

Pleased that she wouldn’t have to search the building to find her, Malory walked over. She wagged her fingers as Dana nodded at her and finished the call.

“I was hoping you’d come by. Didn’t expect you this soon.”

“I’m now a woman of leisure.”

“Oh.” Sympathy softened Dana’s face. “You got canned?”

“Canned, booted, axed, then knocked on my ass by an idiot and his dog on the way home. All in all, it’s been a lousy day, even with the expansion of my bank account.”

“I have to say, I didn’t believe it. Those two up on the Peak are certifiable.”

“Lucky for us. But still, we have to earn it. I’m first up, so I figure I need to get started. Somewhere.”

“I’m ahead of you. Jan? Will you take the desk?” As she rose, Dana gathered a stack of books from under the counter. “Come with me,” she told Malory. “There’s a nice table by the window where you can work.”

“Work at what?”

“Research. I’ve got several books on Celtic mythology, gods and goddesses, lore and legend. I’m going with the Celts since Rowena’s from Wales and Pitte’s Irish.”

“How do you know he’s Irish?”

“I don’t. He sounded Irish. At this point I know little or nothing about Celtic myths, and I figure it’s the same for you and Zoe.”

“I don’t have a clue.”

Dana set the books down with a muffled thud. “So, we need to get one. I’m off in a few hours, then I can give you a hand. And I can call Zoe in if you like.”

Malory stared at the stack of books. “Maybe that’s a good idea. I don’t know where to start.”

“Pick one. I’ll get you a notebook.”

After an hour Malory needed an aspirin as well. When Zoe rushed up to sit at the table beside her, she took off her glasses and rubbed her tired eyes. “Good. Reinforcements.” She shoved a book across the table.

“I’m sorry it took me so long. I was running errands. I bought Simon this video game he’s been wanting. I know I probably shouldn’t have spent the money, but I wanted to get him something, just for fun. I’ve never had so much money in my life,” she whispered. “I know I have to be careful with it, but if you can’t do a little something fun, what’s the point?”

“You don’t have to sell me. And after you’ve been at this for a while, you’ll know you earned it. Welcome to the wacky world of the Celts. Dana’s probably got another notebook.”

“I brought my own.” Out of an enormous bag, Zoe pulled a fresh notebook, thick as a brick, and a pack of pencils already sharpened to saber points. “It’s sort of like going back to school.”

Zoe’s eager optimism cut through Malory’s foul mood. “Want to pass notes and talk about boys?”

Zoe just grinned and opened a book. “We’re going to find that key. I just know it.”

By the time Dana joined them, Malory had written reams of notes in the modified shorthand she’d developed in college, had drained her pen and borrowed two of Zoe’s pencils.