“Why?”
“It’s a long story, sweetie, and this is neither the time nor the place to tell it.”
“She hates me. And I hate her.”
“Someday you’ll understand.”
“What will I understand?” Amaryllis demanded with the stubborn determination to learn the answers that was to become a lifelong trait.
“Someday you’ll know why Elizabeth did what she did,” Sophy said, “and why she can’t forgive herself or anyone else.”
“But what did she do?”
Sophy sighed. “She’s the one who forced your daddy to marry the wrong woman. Elizabeth knew from the beginning that it was a bad match, but all she could see was money and land and status. She thought those things would make your father happy, but they didn’t. All he wanted was your mother, but he was too young to fight Elizabeth.”
“I hate her,” Amaryllis said. She whirled around and flung her ice cream cone at Elizabeth Bailey’s expensive car. The contents of the cone spattered across the windshield.
Sophy contemplated the mess with a curious expression. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”
The ice cream cone incident was the last time she had ever done something so blatantly outrageous, so reckless, so out of control, Amaryllis reflected. Until she had met Lucas Trent.
“This is so exciting, isn’t it?” Hannah said on the other end of the phone.
“Thrilling.”
“I’ll mail this form off to your counselor, Mrs. Reeton, this afternoon. You should be hearing from her soon. She’ll want to schedule an appointment for the two of you to get together for the formal interview.”
“Can’t wait,” Amaryllis said. “If you’re through with the questionnaire, I should get back to work, Aunt Hannah.”
“Of course, dear.” Hannah cleared her throat discreetly. “How is your social life?”
“My social life?”
“Are you still seeing Mr. Trent?”
Amaryllis’s mouth went dry. “Occasionally.”
“What a pity he’s a strong talent. Now that I think about it, he meets some of the criteria that you listed on the questionnaire, doesn’t he? Dark-haired, successful entrepreneur—”
“It’s purely a superficial resemblance, Aunt Hannah. I really have to go. Give my love to Uncle Oscar and the rest of the family.”
“I will. Oh, by the way, Oscar and I will be in the city the day after tomorrow. We’ll spend the night at that little hotel near your place since you don’t have an extra bedroom.”
“Great. I’ll look forward to it. See you soon.”
“And you’re still planning on coming home to Lower Bellevue for Sophy’s birthday party week after next, of course.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, you know that. Goodbye, Aunt Hannah.”
“Good-bye, dear. See you on Friday.”
Amaryllis dropped the phone into its cradle and went back to the notes she had been making when Hannah had interrupted her. None of the points she had listed connected with anything in any way that formed a pattern or inspired a flash of intuition, but she could feel the storm clouds of wrongness gathering. A growing restlessness pervaded her entire being. She needed answers.
She studied what she had written on the pad.
1. Prism using Landreth’s techniques and style focuses for Madison Sheffield. Unethical, but not illegal, use of Sheffield’s talent. Prism most likely trained by Gifford, not Landreth. Same techniques account for similarities in focus style. Landreth would not have approved.
2. Phone call indicating that there was something mysterious about Landreth and that Vivien of the Veils might have info. Gifford suggests that call was possibly made by Irene Dunley because Irene secretly loved Landreth. Irene knew about Vivien of the Veils. But what did she think Vivien might know?
3. Note on Landreth’s calendar made the day of his death indicates a three o’clock appointment with Gifford. Gifford claims to know nothing about it. Says he would never have met with Landreth in any event. Serious animosity between Landreth and Gifford.
4. Landreth died at approximately seven o’clock in the evening, according to newspaper accounts. Fall from path along cliff near his weekend cabin. No sign of foul play. Did he cancel his three o’clock appointment with Gifford? Did he change his mind? Did something else come up?
5. Few people mourned the passing of Jonathan Landreth. He was respected, but he was not well liked except by me and Irene Dunley. Did he have some actual enemies? Did anyone else dislike him as much as Gifford?
Amaryllis put down her pen and pondered. Her intuition was churning, but perhaps she was overreacting to the scanty evidence. After all, a lot was going on in her life these days.
Mentally, she composed another list. This one included all her recent stress factors.
1. Involved in a passionate affair with an unsuitable talent.
2. First visit to a syn-sex club. Meeting with stripper. Attacked in Founders Square. Learned that Lucas was an off-the-chart talent. Made love. Big night, all things considered.
3. In the midst of registering with a marriage agency.
4. Engaged in act of breaking and entering.
No doubt about it, her stress level was high, Amaryllis concluded. And the list of stress factors was lengthening with each passing hour.
But the questions would not go away.
The door slammed open. Clementine charged into the office as if she sat astride her high-powered ice-cycle. She throbbed with outrage.
“What in the five hells is going on, Lark?” Clementine planted her hands on Amaryllis’s desk and thrust out her strong chin. “If you’re not happy here at Psynergy, Inc., tell me about it. Don’t go looking for another job behind my back. You want a raise? Is that it? You’ve only been here six months, but you did bring in a major client. I’m willing to negotiate.”
Amaryllis had been working for Clementine long enough to become accustomed to her volatile boss’s moods. “Calm down. I’m not looking for another job. Whatever gave you that idea?”
Clementine’s steel rings glittered as she drummed all ten fingers on Amaryllis’s desk. “I just got back from having lunch with Gracie. She says that gossip has it you were seen coming out of the offices of Unique Prisms this morning.”
Understanding dawned. Amaryllis smiled ruefully. “Gossip has it right. I went to talk to Gifford Osterley. He and I go back a long way together. We knew each other when we both worked at the university.”
“I’m aware of that.” Clementine straightened and scowled down at Amaryllis. “I thought that whatever was going on between the two of you was over.”
“It is. I went to see him about a business matter.”
“What kind of business takes you to a rival firm?” Clementine demanded suspiciously.
Amaryllis hesitated and then made a decision. “I discovered that on the day of his death Professor Landreth had an appointment with Gifford. I wanted to ask Gifford if Landreth had kept the appointment.”
“What does Landreth have to do with any of this?”
“I’m not sure. Clementine, I know this is going to sound strange, but I’ve begun to wonder if Landreth’s death was something more than an accident.”
Clementine whistled softly. She sprawled in the nearest chair. “What makes you think that?” Her eyes narrowed. “Prism intuition?”
“Partially. But there are some other things that make me uneasy.” Amaryllis told her about the phone call, the visit to Vivien, and the note about the three o’clock appointment with Gifford on Landreth’s calendar. She decided not to explain just how she had come to see the appointment calendar.
When she was finished, Clementine stared at her, incredulous.
“You went to a syn-sex club?”
Amaryllis blushed. “Yes. I wanted to talk to Vivien of the Veils.”
“Alone?” Clementine’s voice rose. “You went to a syn-sex club all by yourself?”
“Not exactly. A friend
accompanied me.”
“What friend?”
Amaryllis pressed her lips together. “Lucas Trent.”
“Trent? Five hells.”
“He accompanied me because I invited him,” Amaryllis said quickly. “It wasn’t his idea.”
“I wasn’t talking about him, I was talking about you. I can’t quite envision you in a syn-sex club.”
Amaryllis felt herself turn a brighter shade of pink. “The synergistically generated sex was all an act.”
“No kidding.”
“The dancers didn’t actually have sex on stage. They just simulated the motions. The talent and prism who worked in the show didn’t focus any real sexual feelings, either. Lucas and I checked using his detector-talent.”
Clementine’s mouth kicked up at the corner. “You were expecting maybe the real thing? A focus-induced orgasm, courtesy of a bunch of syn-sex nightclub performers?”
“Clementine.”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to embarrass you.” Clementine laced her fingers together and raised her eyes toward the ceiling. “What I wouldn’t have given to see Trent’s reaction when you invited him to go to the club. He must have thought he’d fallen through the curtain and come out on some planet on the other side of the universe.”
Amaryllis failed to see the humor in the situation. “I explained that it was a business matter.”
“Sure.” Clementine sat forward in her chair. “Okay, tell me what this Vivien of the Veils had to say about Landreth.”
“Not much, unfortunately. Just that she had seen Professor Landreth the day before he died and he seemed a little more tense than usual.”
Clementine’s brows rose. “Tense?”
“Vivien claimed that Landreth was always tense.”
“That’s what Gracie said, too.”
“Gracie?”
“She worked with him on a committee a couple of years ago. One of those town-and-gown things where academics and businesspeople get together to discuss matters of mutual interest. She said Landreth was a real pain in the ass. Very anal retentive.”
Amaryllis decided to let that observation pass. “At any rate, after I spoke to Vivien, I decided to talk to Gifford. I wanted to ask him about the three o’clock appointment with Professor Landreth. He said he knew nothing about it.”
“Hmm.”
“Clementine, I’m beginning to wonder if Professor Landreth discovered that Gifford was operating a bit over the line, ethically speaking. I know Landreth would never have approved of Gifford’s business practices. The question is, did he know about them?”
“You think maybe Landreth made the appointment in order to confront Osterley about his business ethics?”
“Or lack thereof,” Amaryllis said.
“I think I know where this is going. You’re wondering if Osterley got pissed when he realized that Landreth might soil the reputation of his operation. You think your friend Gifford croaked the old dude to keep him quiet?”
“No, of course not.” Amaryllis was shocked. “Gifford would never kill anyone.”
“From what Gracie says, Osterley is the kind of guy who has a price. Pay it and you get his services. A man like that might kill to protect his business interests.”
“Gifford may be unethical but he is no murderer. Perhaps that note on Landreth’s calendar wasn’t a scheduled appointment. Maybe the professor simply intended to call Gifford at three o’clock to discuss matters.”
“And never made the call?”
“Or Gifford refused to take the call,” Amaryllis said. “Clementine, it’s all getting so complicated. I don’t know what’s going on, but I feel that something is very wrong.”
“Look, no one respects a prism’s intuition more than I do,” Clementine said. “But, frankly, I think you’re going off the deep end here. I’ll admit that Unique Prisms may be operating on the shady side of the street, but I doubt that Osterley is actually doing anything illegal.”
“I agree.”
“Got to admit, I wish we had Osterley’s client list. From what Gracie says, it includes a nice selection of the movers and shakers in the city. We’re lucky Trent didn’t go to Unique Prisms in the first place.”
“Lucas told me that he chose Psynergy, Inc. because he wanted to deal with a reputable agency,” Amaryllis said.
“Good for him.” Clementine grinned. “Wonder what he’ll say when he finds out that you went to see your old flame today.”
“What do you mean? Lucas knew I intended to speak to Gifford.”
“Men are kind of weird about stuff like that.”
“How would you know?”
“Because women are kind of weird about it, too.”
“You’re talking about jealousy,” Amaryllis said quietly. “Trust me, Lucas is highly unlikely to feel that emotion.”
“Yeah?” Clementine pushed herself to her feet. “What makes you think that?”
“He’s not the type.”
“Bat-snake shit.”
Amaryllis composed herself. “Furthermore, he’s in the middle of a marriage agency registration, just as I am. Neither one of us has any reason to become jealous in a relationship that we both know has no future.”
“You’re sure about the no future part?”
Amaryllis wrinkled her nose. “Believe me, even if we weren’t high-class talent and full-spectrum prism, we still wouldn’t be a good match. Lucas and I have almost nothing in common.”
Clementine looked thoughtful. “Gracie and I said that the first time we met each other. Couldn’t imagine why the agency had matched us.”
He had no right to be feeling this way, Lucas thought as he climbed Amaryllis’s front steps that evening. Jealousy was not a logical response to the situation. His relationship with Amaryllis was nothing more than a short-term affair. No strings attached. They were both just killing some time in a mutually pleasurable relationship until they were ready to meet their respective agency dates.
He had turned in the completed Synergistic Connections questionnaire this afternoon. Hobart Batt would be calling any day to schedule the next phase of the process.
Lucas determined to play it cool. He was the Iceman. He would not allow his emotions to get in the way of his common sense. He’d done that once before on the occasion of his first marriage, and the results had not been good.
He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
Amaryllis’s footsteps sounded on the tile floor of the hall as she hurried toward the door. Light, quick, eager. It sounded as if she was flying down the hall to throw herself into his arms.
Without warning, Lucas’s mind conjured up an illusion that needed no prism to bring it into focus. It was all too painfully clear. As though he stood in a long gallery lined with endless mirrors, he looked into the future.
He saw a lifetime of greetings from a wife he did not yet know. Simultaneously, he saw Amaryllis hurling herself over and over again into the arms of the stranger who would be her husband. The icy pool inside him grew deeper and colder.
The door in front of him opened.
“Lucas? Is something wrong?”
He came back to the present with a jolt. Amaryllis was smiling at him, her eyes quizzical. The aroma of something delicious cooking on the stove wafted toward him from the kitchen. He would pretend that everything was normal. This was just a short-term thing. No future.
“You went to see Osterley today.” So much for being the Iceman.
“Yes, I did.” Amaryllis stood on tiptoe and brushed her mouth lightly against his. She stepped back before he could respond. “I told you that I had to speak to him about that appointment.”
“So?” Lucas stalked into the hall. “What did he have to say?”
“He claims he knew nothing about it.” Amaryllis took his jacket and hung it in a closet. “He said he would never have made an appointment with Landreth. He pointed out that he and Landreth had not parted on good terms.”
“Why didn’t you call me first?”
Think Iceman, Lucas told himself as he went down the hall toward the kitchen. Cold, calm. No emotion. No jealousy. No future. “I thought we were partners in this thing.”
“Partners?” Amaryllis hurried after him. “I hadn’t actually thought of our association as a partnership.”
“Is that right? I figure that under the circumstances the least I deserve is partnership status.” Lucas stalked into the kitchen and started to open cupboards in a methodical fashion. “We’ve been through a lot together during the past few days, you and I.”
“That’s very true.” She frowned as he yanked open another cupboard door. “Lucas, what are you looking for?”
“Something drinkable.” He got lucky on the fourth cupboard. “I thought I remembered seeing that bottle in here.”
“Help yourself.” Amaryllis came around the edge of the counter and lifted the lid of a pot that was sitting on the stove. “Are you always this moody and difficult when you’re annoyed?”
“I am never moody and difficult.” Lucas jerked open a drawer, scanned the contents, and seized a corkscrew. “But I do occasionally get irritated. And I am definitely irritated at the moment.”
“I’m sorry if you feel that I slighted you today, but I honestly thought I could handle Gifford better if I talked to him alone.”
A sinking feeling hit Lucas. “Handle him?”
“I thought I could get the truth from him.”
“Because the two of you have a history?” Lucas snapped the opener into position and began to pull the cork with a rough, efficient twisting movement.
“We were friends once. Colleagues.”
“Not lovers.” Lucas jerked out the cork. “Never lovers.”
“No.” Amaryllis concentrated on stirring the contents of the pot. “He’s changed.”
“Is that a fact?”
“Clementine said you might be jealous,” Amaryllis said softly. “I told her she was wrong.”
Lucas stilled, one hand resting on the bottle. He met Amaryllis’s eyes. “Jealousy has nothing to do with this.”
“That’s what I said.”
“But speaking as your partner,” Lucas said very carefully, “and as your lover, I feel that I have some cause for concern. If Gifford Osterley is connected to Landreth’s death, he might be tempted to drag you into the mess.”
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