She smiled at him, a teasing light in her dark brown eyes. "I'm concerned for myself," she told him. "How will I ever know when you're telling the truth and when you're simply acting a part?"

"I try to always tell the truth," Lee replied solemnly.

Mary turned to face him. "As you did about our partner?"

"Exactly," Lee agreed. "I never said my partner was a man, I just didn't correct your inaccurate assumption."

"Failing to correct an erroneous assumption is almost the same as telling the inaccuracy."

"That's true to a point," Lee admitted. "But the fact is that I did not lie to you. I told the truth. And always telling the truth, or as much of the truth as possible, is one of the first things Allan Pinkerton taught me. If you make it a point to tell the truth, then if it ever becomes necessary for you to lie, there is a greater chance that you'll be believed."

"Interesting theory," Mary mused. "You tell the truth to keep from being caught when you're compelled to lie. I don't remember reading that theory in the ten commandments."

Lee chuckled. "Moses wasn't a Pinkerton operative."

"What about the aliases you use? And the roles you assume?"

"I always use a part of my name in my aliases—even my traveling names."

"Traveling names?"

"I always travel under the name Smith or Jones. It makes me harder to trace," Lee said. "But I'm always L. K. Jones or G. M. Smith."

"Liam Gordon Maclntyre Kincaid," Mary said softly, repeating his full name. "Very clever."

"Very safe," he corrected. "And anonymous."

Mary stared at her husband's handsome face—his beautiful gray eyes, classical masculine features, and tantalizing mouth, and wondered how he could ever consider himself anonymous. "What about the roles you play?"

"I don't think of it as playing a role exactly," Lee told her. "It's more like changing jobs. You thought I was a bartender in Peaceable when you met me and I was, but at the same time I was working on a case and trying to help David prove Tessa was innocent. It's always like that. At various times, while working on cases, I've been a gambler, a cowpuncher, a guard, a bank clerk, a newspaper reporter…"

"And a handsome escort for a wealthy Denver society matron," Mary added, deliberately turning the conversation back to Tabitha Gray and Lee's relationship with her.

"It was part of the job."

"Only part of the job?" Mary couldn't keep herself from asking the question. She leaned closer to Lee and studied the picture once again. "What happened to Tabitha after you solved the case?"

"I returned to Chicago and Tabby remained in Denver where she continued to work for the Agency."

"But your personal relationship ended when you left Denver?" Mary probed.

He shook his head, amazed at her persistence. "I never said we had a personal relationship."

"You must have seen her from time to time when you traveled to Denver."

"I never returned to Denver until a few days ago when I went to claim Maddy."

"Not once in over three years?"

"No."

"Never?"

Lee sighed. "I knew I should have bought you emeralds to go with your jealous nature."

"I don't have a jealous nature." At least she hadn't had one until she met Lee Kincaid.

"Oh, yes, you do," Lee told her. "You're jealous of Tabby Gray."