"It isn't natural," Jonah said, finally.  "That boy isn't the least bit interested in our girls."

Libby laughed.  "So?  Maybe he's interested in someone else.  Or maybe he's passed through the dazzled stage and is now behaving sensibly.  Or maybe he just had more sense than most men right from the start."

Jonah shook his head.  In his experience men didn't get over wanting beautiful women just because they found some sense.  Sense and lust were two mutually exclusive states for most men; and a lot of women too, he reminded himself.  "You're worried about her aren't you Libby?" he said.

Her eyes, clouded with concern, met his and then dropped to the table.  "They're grown now, Jonah.  She won't thank you for interfering."

"And I won't have her upsetting you over a man who should know better."  He reached for her hand and raised it to his lips, pressing a kiss into the palm and then curling her fingers over it.   He smiled at the shiver that went through her and cupped her cheek with his other hand.  "My love, it's what fathers do when they have daughters.  They defend them and protect them until they give them away to their husbands.  Or so your father told me when he was jabbing a shotgun in my belly because I'd kept you out later than he thought proper."

"No, it was the kissing in the car he was objecting to, Jonah.  Not the hour," she said, giggling.  She pressed her hand over his and moving it to her lips.  Then she smiled.  "They'll work it out love, one way or another.  If he's the right sort of man he'll come around and if he isn't, better it ends."

He made a rude noise and finished his coffee.

Libby studied his expression for a moment.  "You know him don't you?" she said, her lips pressing together on the words.

Jonah nodded.  "I think so, for a long time ago, before I met you."

"And?"

"And what, Libby?"  Jonah said defensively.  "I knew him.  I can't say I know him now."

"People don't change all that much," she pointed out.

He sighed.  A mother hen and her chicks, he thought.  It would have been so much easier if she'd cooperated and given him sons instead of daughters to plague him to death.  You didn't worry about boys the way you had to worry about girls.  "Libby, he's a mage.  He's powerful and intelligent.  He's a widower and has, or had a grown daughter.  He's proud as bedamned.  And he's not a nice man at all."

Libby shrugged at the last.  "So?  They're like me.  They aren't interested in nice men.  They get bored with nice.  There's no excitement with nice men, you don't get that flip in the stomach when they look at you a certain way.  There's no surprises, no challenges and no thrills.  Nice men," she concluded, "Have trouble getting past the missionary position...always figuratively and often literally."

Jonah heard the complacency in her voice, the utter unconcern over it and shook his head.  He'd never understand women, not as long as he lived. Then he laughed.  "So it's the frisson of excitement you crave, is it darlin'?" he asked.  "You want a little challenge, a bit of a thrill?  I'll have to see what I can do about that, when this is done.  I certainly don't want you thinking I'm boring."

"Never, darling.  Now why don't you watch the tape while I do the dishes?  That nice young man will be back soon and I should start another pot of coffee."

Jonah leaned over and kissed her and then let her go, reluctance in his eyes.  He put the tape in the player and settled back to watch it.  As he suspected Blakesley began by sorting through the objects, setting several aside and focusing on the four he'd picked out and a fifth he'd rejected, an amulet.  Blakesley eventually set the amulet aside and turned his attention to other four pieces, all of which from the pictures Jonah had seen had one thing in common...they were designed for or could lend themselves to the summoning and control of spirits.  In other words, what some people referred to as black magic.

A object from the middle east and another, much younger from China.  Blakesley photographed all four objects in great detail, especially the inscriptions on the bowl and the carving on the cage.  Then he spent some time just holding each object, sitting in what appeared to be a light trance, his eyes closed and his body totally still.  Blakesley spent the longest time on the cage that had been carved from coal and the demon bowl.  After that he left.  Nothing earth shattering, but some of it highly suggestive.

Jonah replayed the tape concentrating this time on every shot of the artifacts, stopping it frequently to get a longer look.  He was just finishing up when Leroy reappeared with Melly.  He turned the TV off and stood, his eyes moving over Melly with obvious appreciation while Libby came in from the kitchen.  "I'm Jonah DuBois," he said to Melly, his smile conveying his delight in her appearance.  "It's always a pleasure to meet such a lovely young woman."

Melly laughed and shook his hand.  "And you must be Mrs. DuBois," she said, turning to Libby.  "It's nice to meet you both."

"It's our pleasure, dear," Libby said.  "Please, have a seat.  Can I get you some coffee?  Or a piece of pie?  I made a lemon meringue and a banana cream this morning.  I don't often get a chance to cook for my girls anymore," she said with a wink.

Melly took a seat at the table, setting her folder down and nodded happily.  "Oh please.  I love banana cream."

"How about you Leroy?" Libby said.

"I wouldn't turn down home-made pie," Leroy replied with a grin. "My mama wasn't much of a cook, but my gran was."  Then, looking over at Jonah he asked, "So. Did the tape provide any surprises?"

"Not really," Jonah said.  "He likes the cage and the bowl.  Still knowing what he was interested in is a step forward."  He smiled at Libby as she gave him a fresh cup of coffee and served the others the pie.  "Thanks, love."

"Do you think Melly would find something helpful looking at the tape? Or just the digital photos?  She's pretty eager, ain't you Melly?"

"Sure, she can see the tape," he said.  "Why don't both of you pull your chairs around and take a look."

Both of them did watch the tape, but Leroy spent a lot of the time watching Melly rather than the tape. "If he was gonna steal 'em, why didn't he just take off with 'em then?" Leroy commented as the tape ended.

"'Cause they'd know he took 'em," Jonah said.  "He could have copied them and taken the originals.  But he didn't do that either."

Leroy frowned. "He doesn't strike me as the sort who'd give a damn if someone knew he took them if he wanted them that bad.  On the other hand, as I've said, he doesn't strike me as the type who'd break an agreement without good reason. And he did come to an agreement with Rimes.  So what do I know."

"Well not giving a damn and being blatantly obvious are different things," Melly said.

"Are they? I rather think he enjoys sticking a finger in other people's eyes," Leroy replied. "This pie is great, Miz DuBois."

"Thank you, Leroy," Libby said.

"Maybe," Melly said.  "You know him better than I do.  But he doesn't strike me as a fool."

"No, that he's definitely not. Betty Jo wouldn't give him the time of day if he were."

Jonah grinned at Leroy.  "That's very true, son.  She's smitten but she's got her mother's brains."

They produced the copies of the digital photos and laid them out for Melly.   "Think you can at least get an idea of what's going on?" Leroy asked.

Melly nodded.  "Ian dropped copies off with me a couple of days ago.  The inscription's in an old Babylonian dialect.  From what I can tell so far it's some sort of spell and prayer."

"About demons? Didn't he say this was a.. a Babylonian demon bowl?  And a miniature cage.  Weird stuff."

"No actually they fit together.  One to call the demon or spirit and the other to contain it," Jonah said.

"And then you need something to make it do what you want it to?" Leroy asked. "I'd think they'd be like the stories about genies. Always doing things not quite the way you want them to do them, and screwing you in the end. Oh, sorry Miz Dubois. My mama woulda washed out my mouth with soap."

Libby laughed.  "Don't worry about it Leroy.  I'm not bothered.  And please, call me Libby."

Jonah was nodding sagely.  "Of course.  That's why most mages are very reluctant to start messing around with them."

"So is there anything we can do to help you, Melly?" Leroy asked. "I mean as far as anything beyond the tapes or the digital photos?  Any bright ideas about handling Ian? I tried to find out if he had an alibi but he refused to tell me if he did."

"Did you run his credit cards?" Melly asked.

"Hmmm. Good idea. I'll try that."

"And we still have to talk to Hermione.  Otherwise I'd leave Blakesley alone for right now.  If he didn't steal them he's looking for them.  I'm guessing if he is looking for them then we'll pick up traces of that eventually," Jonah said, ejecting the tape and giving it Melly.  "Take care of that, darlin'.  We don't want anything to happen to it."

Melly smiled.  "Trust me, Mr. DuBois."

"Jonah darlin', call me Jonah."

Melly laughed.  "Okay."

"Okay, I'll get Melly back to the Refuge and see what I can do about running Ian's credit cards. Let me know if you need me, Jonah. Say hey to the girls for me, too."

"You're coming back for dinner, right Leroy?" Libby asked.

"He better be," Jonah said.  "'Cause afterwards we're going to see some friends of mine."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Leroy promised.

Libby set the platter of fried chicken on the table, cast a quick glance around and nodded to herself in satisfaction.  Mashed potatoes, pan gravy, corn on the cob, greens and biscuits.  She smiled and took a seat.  "Enjoy," she said, passing the potatoes to Jonah.  For a few moments after that the only sounds were those associated with passing dishes and eating food.  When she'd judged the first flush had passed she looked around again.  "So," she said, wiping her fingers on her napkin, "how was your day Mr. Saunders?"

"Leroy," he protested. "Call me Leroy. Your chicken's to die for, you know?  Let's see. I ran Ian's credit cards. Nothing really helpful, dang it."

"Why thank you Leroy.  I'm glad you like it."

"Mama's a wonderful cook," Billie Jo said.   Her sisters nodded in agreement.  "So nothing on the cards huh?  Too bad," she went on.  "But it would have been too easy, you know?"

Leroy nodded. "And I'm thinkin' if he wanted to fool someone he'd have had no trouble at all creating a false trail, so even if I had found something..."

Betty Jo smiled sadly and nodded.  Bobbie Jo patted her hand under the table and whispered, "Don't worry sweetie, he'll call."

"What was that," Jonah demanded.  "Who'll call?  You waiting for him to call you?"

"It's nothing daddy," Billie Jo said hastily.  "Honestly."

"Doesn't sound like it," Jonah said, his face setting.

"Jonah," Libby said softly from the other end of the table.

He looked at her and started to say something.  When she raised her eyebrow he subsided.  "We'll discuss it later," he said.

Leroy, looking from mama, to daddy and then to Betty Jo said, "Uhm, he's not exactly the sort to want to explain himself. I don't think it has anything to do with not caring about her. Probably more to do with him caring too much, you know?"

Betty Jo nodded.  "Thanks."

"He's crazy about you, you know. Anybody can see it. He's just, uhm, English."

Betty Jo looked at him.  "I know," she said, blinking back tears.

Leroy looked miserable for her. Luckily that was when the phone rang.

Betty Jo excused herself and went to answer it in the kitchen.  A few minutes later she came back, looking bemused.  "That," she said, looking at her sisters, "was Coop.  Apparently the CIA called and confessed all.  He and Rimes are coming over."  She paused and took a deep breath.  "And so's Ian."

Leroy's eyes went wide. "Maybe I better make myself scarce, eh?"

"You just sit right there," Billie Jo ordered, "and eat your dinner.  Mama, you want us to set some more places?"

Libby looked like she couldn't believe her daughter was even asking the question.  "Of course," she said.

Bobbie Jo grinned and headed for the kitchen.  Billie Jo headed upstairs for some extra chairs.  Betty Jo just sat down.

"Betty Jo," Daddy said, "If you don't want him here I'll be glad to take care of it for you."

Betty Jo went scarlet.  "No, no it's fine, Daddy really.  Please.  Don't worry."

There were three extra places set when Coop and Rimes arrived not much later. Betty Jo showed them in. Leroy looked set to zap out.

Coop's nose was in the air sniffing. "Something smells wonderful."

Libby smiled and waved at the table.  "Please have a seat.  There's plenty."

Betty Jo made the introductions and invited Rimes to join them as well.  The food was moving around the table again when the bell rang a second time.  Betty Jo went to answer it, pinning on a bright smile.  "Hullo," she said to Ian, standing back to let him enter.

He eyed her a bit warily. "Hullo, Betty Jo. I hope you are well."

She nodded and took his coat.  "Yes.  Fine.  Please come in," she said.

Ian waited for her and followed her into the main room of her apartment. He ran his eyes across the folks gathered at the table. His eyes stopped on Jonah.

Jonah smiled.  "Its been a long time Cecil," he said before Betty Jo could start the introductions.  "You know my daughters, I see.  This is Libby, their mother and my wife."

His daughters opened their eyes wide.  Libby smiled.  "It's a pleasure to meet you.  Please, won't you join us.  There's plenty."

"Thank you, no," Ian replied, watching Jonah warily. "I had no idea, Jeremy.  Had I known..."

"Perhaps some coffee?" Libby offered.

"Or a drink," Billie Jo suggested.

"Had you known...what?" Jonah asked, ignoring his wife and the looks his daughters were exchanging.

"That they were your daughters," Ian finished, his voice harsh.

"No, I imagine not," Jonah said, his own voice smooth.  "So perhaps it's just as well its not only been a long time but that I didn't know either.  Otherwise I might not have been so willing to be so busy on your behalf, no matter what Betty wanted."

"So, anybody wanna tell the rest of us just what is going on here?" Leroy asked.

"No," Ian replied.

"Daddy?" Betty Jo said.

Jonah just shook his head.  Billie Jo sighed, took pity on them all and brought the scotch bottle.  "Ian," she said, handing him a glass,  "please have a seat.  I understand we're here because the CIA has confessed all."  She handed one next to her father.  "And if you don't behave..." she hissed, leaving the threat unspecified.  She ignored his answering scowl and poured for Rimes, Cooper and Leroy.  By the time she'd finished Libby had the table cleared and coffee ready.  Bobbie Jo, her duty writ plain, steered the conversation forcefully to business.  She looked at Coop who was watching the chicken leave the room wistfully and said, "So what exactly did the CIA confess to?"

"They were mostly too busy on their knees begging for help, to be real clear," Coop replied, having shared a look with Rimes. "It seems they, uhm, wanted their artifacts back and hired someone to do it. I've no idea why they decided to implicate you, Lord Avery. Perhaps that was something they did on their own initiative."

"Ah. So suddenly I'm no longer suspect?" Ian commented, raising an eyebrow and then taking a good swig of scotch.

Rimes met his eyes.  "Correct.  And in fact you see me here prepared to grovel if that's what it takes to enlist your aid to recover the items.  And that of Mr. Saunders.  I was unaware," he added, his voice neutral, looking from Betty Jo to Jonah, "that there was a parallel investigation going on."

Betty Jo flushed.  "They were acting at my request," she said, looking him in the eye.

"Well, we're that much further ahead then," Coop put in easily.  "Got any good leads?"

"Did the, er, confession include names?" Bobbie Jo asked.

"Yes," Rimes said.  "But they were fairly sure they were aliases."

Jonah smiled.  "No doubt."  He swallowed some scotch and refilled his glass, passing the bottle to Ian.  "Have you been able to trace them?" he asked.  "You've handled them and I haven't so I haven't tried.  I would imagine the cage or the bowl would be easiest to locate."

"I've narrowed down the area where they are, or at least where they were.  However, I see no percentage in finding them and then turning them back over to someone who obviously neither understands them, nor who can protect them in a suitable fashion."

Rimes smiled.  "But you can?"

"Well, I can certainly learn how to use them. Can you?"

"No, but I don't consider that cogent.  The problem Lord Avery is that they are the property of the US government.  I can't, whether I want to or not, just turn them over to you.  I can however avail myself of your expertise or that of others and learn to both understand them and protect them.  In fact," he went on, "I thought I'd done that already."

"I agreed to examine them and try to understand them," Ian admitted. "And they are no more the property of the US government than is any article of power. They belong to themselves."

Rimes raised an eyebrow.  "You are saying they are sentient?"

"I'm saying they are not inert objects and have some control over their usage. It's difficult to explain." Ian added after a moment. "Objects of power have an ability to alter their reality, their destiny, if you will. They can choose to let one magic worker access their abilities, or reject another. It is a bit more like seduction than like rape. You can attempt to wrest from them their secrets but what you end up with in that case may well not be what you wish for."

"The one ring," Rimes murmured.

"Indeed. Many stories are loosely based on a truth," Ian agreed.

"I see.  Lord Avery I have no doubt you're telling me the truth.  I also have no doubt that there would be better repositories for these things than I am able to provide at the moment, but none of that negates the fact that the government lays claim to them through me as their agent.  I am willing to accommodate their unique reality to the extent that I am able.  But I can't just cede them to you or anyone else."

"I don't recall asking you to do so," Ian replied. "What I am telling you is that I am disinclined to help you retrieve them.  At least at this moment."

"I see," Rimes said.  "And your disinclination stems from what root?  If I might inquire?"

"Having seen them, sensing what they can do, and now hearing that your government is apparently determined to utilize them in some way. Why else attempt to steal them from you, a sister agency?"

"More like my mother-in-law agency," Rimes said.  "So what is it you want from me?"

"I may trust you to a certain extent, and even Mr. Stone. I do not trust your CIA or the current administration. I believe the artifacts will be too great a temptation to use to control what they cannot, do not, and will not understand."

"I really wish you wouldn't refer to the CIA as mine."  Rimes thought for a moment, playing with his glass, his finger tracing the rim.  He returned his attention to Ian and then took in the other occupants of the room.  "It is my plan to tell the CIA they were destroyed during recovery."

"Indeed..." Ian replied thoughtfully. "In aid of what precisely?"

"Well if they've been destroyed that's the end of it as far as the CIA is concerned and the rest of the people you are wary of.  What doesn't exist can't be used.  Still," he said, "It leaves you with the problem of me and my successors.  Not to mention the ability of those in this room to keep a secret."

"Why do you want them back if you plan on keeping them a secret from the rest of your agencies?"

"You misunderstand.  I personally don't want them back at all.  I just don't want them in the hands of those I've no reason to trust and many reasons not to trust.  Unless you're prepared to make the case the those who stole them are the good guys.  As for keeping them a secret...well, let's just say I decided it was the best way to solve a number of problems, not just the one with the CIA."

"So your only motive is altruistic, to remove them from the hands of the bad guys." Ian sounded highly skeptical.

"Lord Avery if you're trying to be offensive it's working," Rimes said.  "If you're not willing to help well...thank you for listening and I apologize for wasting your time."

"Rimes, I agree with you, they must be gotten away from those who currently have them. The question I have is who can be best trusted to protect them, and exactly how to protect them and any other artifacts which might turn up as well.  I wouldn't waste either my time or even yours merely to indulge in baiting you. I'm considering getting them back myself in competition with you, or in helping you. That is the question in my mind. If you prefer me to throw my hands up I can certainly do that.

"However, I did come to an agreement with you. And I'd prefer we found a mutually satisfactory solution to our dilemma."

"And what would constitute an agreement acceptable to you?" Rimes asked.

"Perhaps, if you can cede a bit of control, we can place additional security on your vault where they're to be stored. Security which would alert myself and perhaps others you'd name, if they are again the target of thieves or others who might wish to obtain and utilize them."

"What sort of security?" Rimes said.

"Magical."

Jonah saw the puzzlement on Rimes' face and took pity on him.  "He's talking about warding the vault, placing a sort of alarm system on it that is magical.  A spell, in effect."

"Correct. Any attempts to remove them would alert me and whoever else you designate. You can have whatever mundane alarms you like on the vault as well."

"Thanks," Rimes said dryly.  "And under those conditions you'd be willing to help get them back?"

"Yes," Ian said, meeting Rimes' eyes.

"It is one I can live with as well," Rimes said, sustaining Ian's look without apparent difficulty.

"As I said, I've narrowed the search down to a fairly small area. The problem will be that once I find them I'm fairly certain they will sense my discovery. So we will need a plan to attack them, within seconds of locating the artifacts"  Ian looked round at those at the table. "I can, I believe, whisk the artifacts away if you all can hold them off, and stop them from attempting to zap the artifacts off before I can latch onto them."

Jonah nodded.  "That shouldn't be beyond our ability, mine and Leroy's...in general." he said, looking at Ian.  "But I've no clear idea who or how many we're going up against."

"Perhaps I can help there," Rimes said, pulling a DVD out of his pocket.  "This is the recording the CIA made when they negotiated the theft."

Betty Jo put it in the player and then started the TV.  The quality was standard surveillance, albeit from the best that money could buy.

Ian was frowning as he watched the playback. "Do you know them Jeremy?"

"Possibly," Jonah said, leaning forward in his chair.  He waved a hand and froze the playback.  "A while back, not long after the last time we met, Barnaby Collins attempted to set up something like...oh I guess you could call it a mob of mages.  He wasn't allowed to succeed, of course.  Still he'd done a lot of the spadework before he was stopped.  The guy in the back there, on the left side was his apprentice at the time, I believe.  If it's him, he called himself Kevin Cottlieb.  They had to know they were being taped, Cecil."

"Yes," Ian agreed. "But what did they hope to gain by it. Other than a feeble attempt to implicate me."

"Well I meant taped during the negotiations," Jonah said, "but it's a good question in both cases.  I haven't seen the tape of the break in."

"It might be," Betty Jo said, "That it wasn't so much that as a statement, a way of spiting in your eye and ours.  The tape of the break in makes it clear they knew exactly where in the vault they were so they could have stolen them without being physically present.  They disabled the standard CCTV cameras but none of the other interior security and monitoring devices.  There's an incredible arrogance to the whole thing."

"Agreed." Ian was frowning as he thought.  "I wonder..."

"Wonder what?" Leroy asked.

"Wonder if the taking of the artifacts weren't merely the first move in an entirely different game."

Jonah sat back in his chair and regarded Ian.  "I heard, in the way of idle gossip you understand, that very recently you had dealings with Collins that didn't go the way he'd hoped."

"He withdrew to lick his wounds. Apparently he's ready for a rematch."

"Well, he never had nay sense" Jonah said, restarting the recording. "Still, I think Leroy and I can fend them off for the time it will take you to get them out of there.  Don't you, Leroy?"

"Uhm, yeah, if you can do it like in a blink of an eye.  Personally I think we ought to sic the Jo's on 'em."

Jonah leaned back and folded his arms over his chest.  "How so, son?"

"They apparently want attention. Let's give it to them," Leroy explained. "I'm also willing to bet they know Ian and Betty Jo have been seeing one another. "She'd be a temptation. A chance to thumb Ian's nose in it again.  And while they were plotting to maybe kidnap her, Ian has carte blanche to get the goods."

"I'm listening," Rimes said.  "How exactly?"

"We convince them she's vulnerable and entice them into going after her," Leroy began.

"No," Ian commented flatly.

"How would we convince them she's vulnerable," Rimes asked.

"I dunno. Maybe you guys run an op in an apparent attempt to get your relics back. Ian pretends to go off on a huff and you guys are trying it on your own. And we figure it so she's separated from the others, or so it would seem..." Leroy began.

"I said no," Ian commented, his voice hard.

"Why?" Betty Jo asked.  "It's my job, it's what I do."

"What you do has nothing to do with seeing me. You'd be vulnerable because of me," Ian replied, eyes hard, determined.

"Are we seeing each other?"

"Leroy is intending to use the fact we were seeing each other to advantage," Ian dodged.

"Were?" she asked.

"This isn't the time to discuss this," he replied.

"Oh?  Nice to know you're planning on discussing it, because I didn't have that impression at all," she told him.  "But setting that aside, I'm already vulnerable because of my association with you so I fail to see how it's a reason for not doing this.  The better scenario is not just getting the artifacts back, but getting Collins and maybe the plans as well."

Ian turned to Rimes. "I don't want her at risk."

"She's already at risk, apparently," Rimes said.  "In this scenario we're managing the risk instead of merely responding to it."

"I don't like it," Ian insisted. "If Jeremy is right, this is a personal vendetta. They are far too hard to predict."

"Let's say we get the artifacts back without using her as bait.  That still leaves her at risk and Collins in play.  Is that what you want?" Rimes asked.

"You believe you can neutralize him in some way? I rather doubt that, but I'm listening."

"Well," Jonah said, "Killing him achieves that."

"Killing him?" Ian asked turning to regard Jonah. "He been extremely hard to kill for a very long time. But if you think you can achieve it..."

"No, but I think 'we' could achieve it."

Ian sat back and gave the matter some thought, frowning at Jonah. Finally, "It would require a good deal of trust between us."

"Yes it would, Ian" Jonah agreed, passing Ian the scotch bottle.  "But then we've trusted each other professionally before this."

Ian poured himself a healthy dose. He sipped his drink, having passed the bottle on, regarding Jonah. "And that worked out so well."

"The result wasn't due to either of us betraying the other's trust," Jonah said.  "I think dealing with Collins once and for all is sufficient incentive to trust you again."

"Yes, but is it sufficient for me," Ian replied.

"Uhm, you know. You two can duel after we get the artifacts back, you know?" Leroy commented. "If we're gonna get them back, it's gonna take all of us. So how about we all kiss and make up and then afterwards we punch one another out."

"Very true," Libby said.  "Not that I've any desire to punch anyone."

"I'm willing," Jonah said.

"All right, I agree." It was grudging but it was an agreement. And Jonah knew Ian would live up to it.

"So what the plan, Leroy?" Jonah asked.

"Ian leaves here in a huff and heads back to England, making his clear break with the Zoo, and with us all, public and vocal. Complain to Blackheath, complain at the R&C. Wherever. Then you, Rimes, you and your people start planning an op to get your stuff back.  Then we bring Ian back in at the last moment. How's that?" Leroy asked brightly.

"And we find them how?" Rimes asked.

"Jonah? You and Ian combine on that, right?"

Jonah nodded.  "I doubt if Collins knows I'm Betty Jo's father.  So he won't be paying attention to me.  However, if he's broken with Betty Jo as a part of his break with the Zoo..."

"And your solution to this minor dilemma?" Ian asked.

"That perhaps it becomes plain that the break with the Zoo doesn't include a break with her," Jonah said easily.

Libby's hostessly instincts took over as she looked around the table.  "Time for pie I think girls.  If you'd get it?  And plates?  And a fresh pot of coffee I think," Libby directed, forestalling what ever Betty Jo was about to say.  "Gentleman, I have lemon meringue and banana cream.  I find folks think better on a full stomach, don't you Leroy?" she asked.

"Oh yes ma'am. And your pie is to die for," Leroy agreed.

As the wimmin folk filed out of the room, Ian commented dryly, "I'd say your daughter has more to say about that than do you."

"Really?  I thought we were planning an attack not a romance."

"Fine. You get her to agree," Ian hissed.

"Okay," Jonah said, accepting a piece of pie and passing one to Ian with a grin.