Stone and Claw: A Novel in the Alastair Stone Chronicles

by R. L. King

Stop it, he told himself. He reached the building where the classroom was located, pausing to toss his empty cup before heading in. Even if Marciella Garra did present the kind of challenge he regarded in much the same way as cats did catnip, that didn’t mean he had any right to pursue it. Garra might have secrets, but so did he. How would he react if she began digging into his life? That, and since she didn’t know the reasons for his curiosity, she’d be justified in assuming he had romantic interest in pursuing her. That could get him in trouble, not to mention simply being an unpleasant thing to do since she clearly wasn’t interested.

  For now, he’d keep an eye on her—from afar. At least until and unless anything changed.

  14

  “So, it’s done,” Jason said. “We should go have a beer or something to celebrate.”

  They stood outside the downtown Palo Alto office of Stone’s local solicitor, where they’d just officially signed the papers formalizing Stone’s investment in Jason’s agency. “Indeed we should,” he said. “Come on—there’s a place just down the street.”

  Jason fell into step next to him. “Too bad V’s working, since this kinda concerns her too.”

  “I’m sure there’ll be many more reasons to celebrate in the future.” When Jason started to say something, he held up a hand. “No—no more thanks. I meant that. It’s done, and now it’s time to move forward. Have you had any success finding an apartment, or premises for the agency?”

  They entered the bar, a small, high-end place on University Avenue. At this time of the late afternoon, early for the after-work crowd, it was nearly deserted.

  “I think I’ve got a line on both,” Jason said, walking to the bar and ordering a microbrew for himself and a Guinness for Stone before Stone could beat him to it. They took seats in a booth at the back. “I put a deposit on an apartment not too far from V’s place—about a mile away. It’s not huge, but it’s got a couple of bedrooms and a carport for the Mustang. And there’s some office space for lease in San Jose, down on First Street.”

  “Excellent.”

  “Yeah.” He took a long pull from his glass, then took a notebook from his back pocket and consulted it. “I honestly didn’t expect this to move as fast as it is. So much to do—I need to rent some furniture, get phones, a fax machine, a computer system so I can hook up to the search databases, business cards—hell, I don’t even have a name for the agency yet. I was trying to come up with something catchy, but maybe I should just keep it simple and call it Thayer Investigations.”

  “Why not? It’s your venture—why shouldn’t it have your name on it? If you like, I’ll check with the Graphic Design department at the University and see if anyone wants to make a bit of money designing a logo for you.”

  “Yeah, that’d be great—and maybe I can get V to help me out with some of this other stuff.”

  “Good idea. She essentially picked out my entire kitchen—she’s good at that sort of thing.”

  Jason flashed him a sharp look, then sighed and dropped his gaze to his glass.

  “Something wrong?”

  “Nah.”

  Stone raised an eyebrow. “Jason, I’d have thought by now you’d have realized trying to lie to me is pointless. Out with it.”

  For several seconds, Jason didn’t answer. He looked as if he were turning something over in his mind. “It’s—you and V,” he said. “I’m still working through it.”

  “I thought you said you were all right with—”

  “I am,” he said quickly. “Mostly, anyway. It’s just—”

  “Just what?”

  “Are you reading my aura?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Well, don’t. It’s—I want to have a conversation without you tryin’ to second-guess everything you think I’m gonna say.”

  Stone narrowed his eyes. “I’m not reading your aura, Jason. You should be able to tell if I were, at any rate. So what’s the problem?”

  He looked at his hands. “This is gonna sound weird, okay?”

  “Weird is what I do, remember? Just say it.”

  “Well—when I first found out, I was mad. You know that.”

  “I don’t think any of us could miss it,” Stone said wryly.

  “Yeah. Well—can you blame me? I find out my twenty-one-year-old sister’s sleeping with her teacher—my best friend—who’s nearly twice her age. It was kind of a shock, especially since I didn’t see it coming at all.”

  “We didn’t see it coming,” Stone reminded him. “It sort of…crept up on us.”

  “Yeah,” he said again. “I know it’s none of my business what V does, but I can’t help my feelings, you know? But—this whole situation is weird, and that makes things…different.”

  “How so?”

  “Like I know mages live longer than mundanes, so the age difference shouldn’t be as big a deal.” His gaze came up. “I mean, damn, Al, I know you’re almost forty, but you sure as hell don’t look it. You don’t look much older than I do these days.”

  “That’s…flattering. But I still don’t see—”

  “Okay, so here it is,” Jason interrupted, holding his hands up to stop Stone. “I guess I’m more of an old-fashioned guy than I thought I was, in some ways. I mean, not in every way—I got no issue with V being bi and preferring women. To be honest, I’m more comfortable with her being with women. I know that doesn’t make a damn bit of sense, but there you go.”

  “So you have issues with her being with a man.”

  “Yeah—no. No. She’s a grown woman. She can be with whoever she wants, and it’s none of my business. And like I said before—if it was any other guy in this situation, I’d think it was creepy. You know, older guy hitting on a young hot woman. You know as well as I do what that usually means.”

  “I do,” Stone said. “But we—”

  “But you’re not like that. I get it. I’m not saying you are.” He snorted a laugh. “Actually, for a guy who sleeps around as much as you do, you’re probably the closest thing I know to a real gentleman.”

  Stone raised an eyebrow. “Er—thank you?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I’m not sure I do. And I’m definitely not sure I see where this is going.”

  Jason finished his drink in one long swallow and smacked the glass down on the table with a loud sigh. “Okay, I’ll just lay it out straight: I’m having trouble dealing with the fact that you two are sleeping together but you’re not…together. That’s where I’m old-fashioned, I guess.”

  Ah, so that was it. He should have guessed. “So…” he said, “You’d be fine with it if we had a more…conventional sort of relationship.”

  “Yeah. And like I said—whether I’m fine with it or not doesn’t even matter. I’m not saying it does, or that either one of you should do anything different. It’s not my business. But you asked me what I thought, so I’m tellin’ you.”

  “Did you tell Verity?”

  “No. She’s still a little defensive about the whole thing, so I figured it’s better if I just don’t bring it up.”

  That was probably true. As close as Jason and Verity were, she still suffered from a bit of leftover ‘little sister syndrome,’ causing her to push back rather more than she might have otherwise done whenever she perceived Jason trying to direct her life or influence her decisions. He spread his hands. “Jason, I told you before: it’s not me. It’s never been me. It’s her choice, and I respect it. I thought we settled this.”

  “I thought so too—but then you two started talking about this hot professor in your department, and you—”

  “Wait—just wait a moment.” Stone raised a hand. “I am not seeing Dr. Garra. Even if I wanted to, she’s made it clear in no uncertain terms that she’s not looking for a relationship. So if Verity is speculating about that, you can set your mind at ease.” He narrowed his eyes. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t see anyone, if I should decide to.”

  Now it was Jason’s turn to blink and focus closer o
n him. “That sounded like you being defensive, Al. What’s up?”

  Stone shook his head. Once again, his habit of associating with overly perceptive people had come back to bite him. “She’s made no secret that she’s fine with it. She’s encouraged me to do it, on numerous occasions, in fact. I thinks she rather hoped I would get something going with Dr. Garra.”

  “Why?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine. Perhaps she feels guilty about her feelings for Kyla, and thinks she’d be more comfortable if I were seeing someone else as well. Or perhaps—” He let that trail off and stared into his pint glass.

  “Perhaps what?”

  “I think perhaps it would help her maintain a sort of…distance. To give her an excuse to avoid the entanglements she doesn’t want to encourage.”

  Jason pondered that. “So you’re sayin’ that you don’t want to hook up with anybody else, even if V thinks you should?”

  “Yes—but not precisely. I’m not saying I wouldn’t be open to it, should it occur. But it seems it’s occurring quite a bit less lately, by my own doing.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  It suddenly dawned on Stone that this discussion wasn’t one he wanted to have—with Jason or anyone else. At least anyone who wasn’t Verity. He waved a dismissive hand and forced a chuckle. “Never mind. I’m a bit off my game, to be honest. I shouldn’t have even brought it up.”

  “Al—”

  “No. Really. We should be celebrating the birth of Thayer Investigations, not discussing my personal life.” He raised his glass. “To a long and successful venture.”

  Jason held his gaze for a few more seconds. He clearly wanted to say something else, but finally he sighed and raised his own empty glass. “And good friends.”

  Stone’s next words came out before he had a chance to filter them. “Jason…I think I might actually have an inaugural case for you.”

  “Huh?”

  Don’t do this. You’re starting down a rabbit hole that can only lead to a bad end. “It has to do with Dr. Garra.”

  “What about her?” His eyes narrowed. “This isn’t about V anymore, is it?”

  “No. I attended a little get-together for Dr. Hubbard at the University last night, and something…odd happened.”

  “Odd? How so?”

  Still feeling as if he’d made a decision he’d later regret, Stone gave Jason an abbreviated version of the events at the party last night. He told him how he’d suspected something unusual about Marciella Garra from the moment he met her, and how the magical necklace, her accident or attack last night, and her lack of any sign of injury this morning had only added to his suspicions. As an afterthought, he even described the series of junk-shop flyers and phone numbers he’d found on her desk.

  Jason listened in silence. When Stone finished, he said, “So…what do you want me to do about it? You don’t want me to follow her, do you?”

  “No. I don’t think that would be wise. If there is something supernatural going on with her, I wouldn’t send you after her without more information. But you can trace information about people, right?”

  “Sure. That’s a big part of what PIs do.”

  “Well—what I’d like, if you’re willing, is for you to look into her background a bit. I’ll give you all the information I have—which isn’t much, unfortunately—and we’ll see what you come up with.”

  “Uh—yeah, I can do that. But—”

  “But what?”

  “Well—if you think she’s tied up with the supernatural, why don’t you just ask her? Don’t you guys have ways to scope each other out? Can’t you tell from her aura or something?”

  “In answer to your first question—I can’t just ask her. It’s possible even if she is connected with my world somehow, she’s just doing what I’m doing: trying to keep her head down and do her job without arousing suspicion. I think I’m already making her uncomfortable—in fact, I wonder if she hasn’t already suspected that my curiosity is a bit more than professional. If you come back with something troubling, I might have to talk to her, but for now it seems prudent not to.”

  “What about her aura?”

  “I’ve checked. Aside from the magical necklace she wore at the party, I see no sign of magic around her. That doesn’t mean she isn’t a mage, but it does mean if she is, she’s not using it much, and definitely not at all around me.”

  Jason looked troubled, but finally nodded. “Yeah, okay. I’ll do a little poking around and see what I come up with. It’ll give me an excuse to get moving. It’ll take a few days, though—still gotta get a computer and get it hooked up, get database access, all that kind of thing.”

  “Not a problem. I’m probably getting worked up over nothing. I think my best bet is to stay away from Dr. Garra, for a while anyway.”

  15

  Staying away from Dr. Garra proved not to be a problem, since she seemed to be actively avoiding him. She wasn’t obvious about it—it wasn’t as if she changed direction when she passed him on the way to class or back to their office or anything blatant like that—but it almost always worked out that she wasn’t in the same place as he was. If he didn’t know better—and in truth, he didn’t—Stone might have thought she’d studied his schedule to make sure she wasn’t in the office at the same time he was. He even stopped seeing her at the coffee shop in the morning.

  If that was the way she wanted it, it was fine with him. He had plenty of things to keep him busy, between work, spell research, and slowly fixing up the Encantada house.

  The echo that seemed to have possessed Raider didn’t reappear, despite his best efforts to coax it out. He tried calling the cat by Professor Benchley’s name, examining him with focused magical sight, paging more carefully through the encyclopedia volume looking for other clues, and even setting up a small circle to try summoning the echo. Nothing worked—in fact, Raider no longer showed any interest in the encyclopedia at all. Stone suspected it hadn’t been the tome at all that the echo had been trying to draw attention to, but rather the clipping inside. Once he’d found that, there was no more need for the book.

  Even so, he didn’t get rid of it. He left it on the shelf with the rest of his library, lying on its back so Raider could sit on it if he so desired.

  “I have no idea what you’re trying to tell me,” he said one night in the middle of the week after Hubbard’s party. Raider sat in front of him, watching him with his intent green gaze, but seemed unaffected by his words. He rubbed against Stone and purred, but that was all.

  Jason called Stone the following week. “Hey, you want to come by and see the new office? Not much here yet, but I’ve got enough that I can put up my shingle and start looking for clients. And I got something you might be interested in.”

  “News about what I asked you to look into?”

  “Yeah. Come on down and I’ll tell you what I found out.”

  Jason’s new office turned out to be in the middle of an unremarkable office-park building about a mile from the courthouse, sandwiched between a law office and a private security firm. It had a picture window in front that still read “Big Boy Bail Bonds,” featuring the image of a muscular, grinning man. The locked door sported the slogan, “You Ring Us, We Spring You!” Stone spotted both Jason’s red Mustang and Verity’s black SUV in the parking lot.

  “Decided to switch to a more lucrative business?” he asked wryly as Jason unlocked the door.

  “Nah—got your girl from the Graphic Arts department coming over to redo the window tomorrow. We’re not officially open yet.”

  Verity waved from behind a desk in the back, where she’d been tapping something into a computer. “Hi, Doc. What do you think of the place?”

  “It’s…nicely minimalist,” Stone said with care, looking around. The small office was mostly one open space, with a doorway in the back probably leading to a storage room and restroom. So far, the space had two desks, each with a computer and phone; three file cabinets; a printer and fax ma
chine on another table on the other side of the room with two boxes of printer paper stacked next to it, a sturdy-looking cabinet; and a tiny waiting area with a loveseat, chair, and table, all three of which looked like they’d been rented from some office-supply firm. The otherwise bare walls contained only three items: a poster-sized map of the San Jose and Peninsula area, a small, framed document that had to be Jason’s private-investigator license, and a whiteboard with “Thayer Investigations” printed on it. A cartoon figure of a grinning Sherlock Holmes holding a large magnifying glass was most likely Verity’s work.

  “Yeah,” Jason said. “Just the bare bones for now, but we’ll jazz the place up a little as we go. We’ve got a water cooler coming in next week, and a little fridge for the back room.”

  “And some art prints,” Verity added. “Need a couple of those to class up the joint.” She pointed at Sherlock. “Unless you want more of my originals.”

  “Yeah, that’s okay, V—as an artist, you’re a really good mage.”

  Stone glanced at the second desk. “Has Jason decided to hire you officially, then?”

  “Nah. I’m just helping out today because I’ve got the day off. He offered me a job as his assistant, but I’m not exactly the sit-behind-a-desk-all-day type. I’m gonna consult on missing-persons cases, though.”

  “Excellent. I’m sure you’ll be good at that.”

  “Yeah, but I still need to find an assistant—somebody to handle the clerical stuff and records and that kind of thing,” Jason said. “Right now, though, since we don’t have any cases yet, I think I can keep on top of that myself.”

  “You do have a case,” Stone reminded him. “Speaking of which, you said you had something for me.”

  “Yeah, I do.” He pulled a file folder from his desk drawer. “You were right, Al. There is something up with Dr. Garra.”

  “Indeed?” Stone perched on the edge of the desk, leaning forward. “What is it?”

  “This was a good test for my skills, I’ll tell you that—I had to pull in some friends, including Stan Lopez and Fran, to track down this info.” He opened the folder, withdrew a sheet with a black-and-white photo on it, and offered it to Stone.