Amaryllis

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  “It’s your choice, of course, but I think you should see her, Amaryllis.”

  Amaryllis recalled the day of the ice cream incident. I’m not your grandmother. You have no grandmother. You’re a bastard.

  “I choose not to see her,” Amaryllis said.

  Amaryllis could hardly wait to talk to Lucas the next day. She dove for the phone before she had finished her morning coff-tea.

  “I thought that last night went rather well, don’t you?” she said as coolly as possible when Lucas answered.

  “Great pie.”

  “My uncle is a wonderful cook.”

  Lucas paused. “Oscar made the pie?”

  “Yes. He has a magic touch with pastry.”

  “Figures.”

  “If you like, I’ll ask him to give you the recipe.”

  “Never mind,” Lucas muttered. “I don’t do any fancy cooking.”

  “Well, I wasn’t talking about the food, anyway. I meant that I thought Aunt Hannah and Uncle Oscar took to you.”

  “Could have fooled me. I had the distinct impression that your uncle would have liked to rip my guts out.”

  “That’s not true.” Amaryllis was shocked by the bitterness in his words. “They liked you, Lucas. I know they did.”

  “It doesn’t really matter what they thought of me, does it? After all, our relationship is temporary.”

  Amaryllis’s spirits plummeted beneath the weight of that incontestable statement. “But we’re friends, Lucas. Actually, we’re more than friends. I think it’s important that they liked you.”

  “Speaking of important, I’m a little busy here, Amaryllis. Was there something you wanted?”

  The Iceman was back in control, Amaryllis thought. She forced herself to remain calm and composed. She would not let him know how unhappy his chilling words had made her. “As a matter of fact, yes, there is something I wanted. We didn’t get much of a chance to talk last night.”

  “That was because it became obvious that your aunt and uncle were not going to leave until I did,” Lucas said dryly.

  That was true, Amaryllis reflected. Hannah and Oscar had made it clear that they were prepared to sit in Amaryllis’s living room all night, if necessary. They had accepted the affair that was going on between Amaryllis and Lucas, but that did not mean they intended to facilitate it.

  “I think they’ve guessed that we’re involved,” Amaryllis said delicately.

  “Yeah, you could say that. I got a long lecture from Oscar last night, and it was not about how to make a straw-peach pie.”

  “The thing is, Lucas, they worry about me. They can’t bring themselves to actually approve of our relationship. You know how the older generation is. In their day folks were very discreet about this kind of thing. They still are in places like Lower Bellevue.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  He was definitely getting surly now. Amaryllis made herself move on to a more neutral topic. “Lucas, I’ve been thinking about what Irene Dunley told me at lunch.”

  “Ah, yes, the case of the missing secret file.”

  Surly and sarcastic. Amaryllis began to get annoyed. “This is serious. The more I think about it, the more I think Irene may be right. It’s perfectly possible that someone did kill Professor Landreth. And that missing file may hold the clue. Why else would anyone bother to steal it?”

  “You have absolutely no proof that it was stolen. Try this scenario instead—Irene Dunley has concocted a fantasy for herself because she can’t let go of Landreth.”

  “I think you’re wrong.”

  “All right, let’s say that a file was stolen from one of the boxes. How do you propose to convince the police of that?”

  “I don’t know yet.” Amaryllis lowered her voice. “But I’m getting worried because Gifford’s name keeps coming up in this mess.”

  “Yes, it does, doesn’t it? Noticed that myself.”

  “It concerns me.”

  “Me, too,” Lucas said, “but I suspect for different reasons. Did I mention that Osterley paid a call on me yesterday?”

  Amaryllis nearly dropped the phone. “No, you didn’t. What did he want?”

  “Tried to sell me on the superior services of Unique Prisms. He made a pitch for my business with a strong emphasis on how very discreet his employees are. He made it plain that his prisms don’t try to impose any pesky code of ethics on their clients.”

  “Oh, dear. I was afraid of something like this. Professor Landreth would have been incensed by Gifford’s business practices. I can’t help wondering if he knew what Gifford was doing.”

  “You think Osterley killed Landreth because the professor threatened an investigation of Unique Prisms?” Lucas sounded only mildly concerned by the possibility. “I guess an inquiry into his business operations could have been potentially embarrassing.”

  “No I don’t think Gifford murdered him.” Amaryllis’s fingers tightened reflexively on the phone. First Clementine and now Lucas had suggested quite casually that Gifford could be a murderer. “Absolutely not. I can’t envision Gifford as a killer.”

  “You envisioned him as a potential husband at one time.”

  Amaryllis was outraged. “That’s different. My intuition isn’t perfect. Nobody’s is.” She thought quickly. “The big unknown here is just how far over the line Unique Prisms is operating.”

  “You mean is Osterley merely running a less than ethical business or is he actually aiding and abetting criminal talents?”

  Amaryllis swallowed uncomfortably. “That’s putting it in very blunt terms.”

  “I’m not the subtle type. Ask anyone. The question is an interesting one, but probably purely academic.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I doubt if there’s any way to get an answer,” Lucas said. “It would be damn tough to prove that any of Osterley’s clients were committing crimes using the focus services of Unique Prisms.”

  “A strong detector-talent might be able to catch someone in the act.”

  “Don’t get any ideas. I’ve got better things to do with my time than trail around after Osterley’s clients waiting to see how they’re using his services. Besides, even if I did catch one of them focusing for criminal purposes, the police would still need some hard evidence before anyone could bring charges. Something tells me Osterley’s not stupid enough to allow his prisms to get into such awkward situations.”

  Amaryllis considered that for a moment. “I need to know more about how Unique Prisms works,” she said finally.

  “Damn it, Amaryllis, I just told you—”

  “I want to find out just how far Gifford has gone. I need to know if what he’s doing is beyond unethical. I want to find out if he’s doing anything that’s actually illegal.”

  “How do you intend to find out?” Lucas sounded grimly amused. “Go undercover? Infiltrate his operation?”

  “I could do that. He offered me a job. But I think I’ll start by observing one of his clients in action,” Amaryllis said thoughtfully.

  “You only know the name of one of his clients. Senator Sheffield.”

  “Precisely.”

  “Five hells.” Lucas sounded genuinely alarmed now. “Amaryllis, what are you planning to do?”

  “Take an active interest in politics. Didn’t you tell me that your secretary is always throwing away invitations to political fund-raisers?”

  “I get an endless stream of them. So what?”

  “When’s Sheffield’s next fund-raising event?”

  “I don’t know. I’d have to check with my secretary. She has instructions to toss all of the junk mail into the trash before it gets to my desk.”

  “See if you can find an invitation to one of Sheffield’s receptions, will you? I’d really like to observe him in the act of using his talent for an extended period of time.”

  “You’d need a detector for that,” Lucas said.

  “Luckily I know one.”

  “Now listen here, Amaryllis, i
f you think that I’m going to waste an evening eating tough turk-chick that tastes as if its been fried in jelly-ice, you can think again. Furthermore—”

  “Sorry, I’ve got to run.” Amaryllis hung up the phone before Lucas could explode in her ear.

  “… And it is those values, ladies and gentlemen, the values of our founders, to which we must return.” Madison Sheffield braced both hands on the podium and gazed out at the audience with the expression of a man of vision. “We must reject those who would weaken the very fiber of our moral structure. We must protect our young people from the influence of sleazy syn-sex clubs. To that end, I wish to announce that I have launched an investigation into those unsavory businesses. That is only one small example of what I plan to do. With your help, I am prepared to lead us forward into the future.”

  Thundering applause filled the room. Amaryllis, seated next to Lucas at a table near the front, clapped politely. She had been waiting impatiently for three days for this event. She glanced around at the faces of those sitting nearby.

  “He doesn’t need to focus charisma,” she whispered to Lucas. “Just look at these people. He’s saying exactly what they want to hear.”

  “I have a hunch he saves the charisma punch for the one-on-one hard sell situations.” Lucas did not bother to join in the applause.

  Amaryllis watched Sheffield leave the podium to join a strikingly beautiful young woman at the head table. “I’ll bet that’s his prism for the evening.”

  “She’s new. That’s not the one he burned out at the museum reception,” Lucas said. “But there’s some similarity.”

  “Same color hair and same bra size,” Amaryllis muttered.

  “Now that you mention it—”

  “He’s pretending that they’re all agency dates. Very clever.”

  The announcer returned to the podium. He smiled triumphantly at the crowd as the clapping slowly subsided. When the room was again silent, he leaned toward the microphone.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming here tonight. The gubernatorial elections are less than three months away. We must not lose the momentum we have going for us. We must hold true to our course. Remember, voting the Founders’ Values ticket is the only way to secure our future.”

  Another round of vigorous applause heralded the end of the event. People began to leave the hall. Amaryllis glanced around uneasily.

  “I thought you said we would have a chance to see Sheffield in action,” she said to Lucas.

  “We will.” Lucas rose from his chair and reached down to take her arm. “I’ve got an invitation to a private reception that’s scheduled to follow this speech. Only those who look like good targets for hard-core arm-twisting were asked to attend. I think it’s safe to assume that Sheffield will be working that room.”

  Amaryllis smiled with satisfaction. “Great work, Lucas. I knew I could count on you, partner.”

  “Stop me if I look like I’m about to reach for my checkbook.”

  Half an hour later Amaryllis found herself standing next to Lucas in a chamber filled with a small, select crowd of the city’s more prosperous denizens. She held a glass of fizzy green wine in her hand and created a prism for Lucas with her mind.

  A few seconds of seeking. Brief sense of vulnerability.

  Link.

  Energy poured through the prism.

  Sheffield was definitely working the room. With the aid of Lucas’s talent and a steady focus, it was easy to “see” the waves of energy Sheffield was directing. Every time he stopped to shake hands and chat with one of the guests, he focused.

  An aura of unlimited strength, great trustworthiness, and resolute determination flowed from Sheffield in tangible energy fields. The unwitting victim of the focus responded as if by magic. He or she suddenly glowed with enthusiasm and excitement. People nearly tripped over their own feet in their hurry to write out checks to the campaign fund.

  There was no doubt but that the lovely woman on Sheffield’s arm was working as his prism. Amaryllis could feel the familiar undercurrents of Landreth’s style filtered through Gifford’s technique.

  “Get ready,” Lucas murmured as Sheffield moved across the room. “I think we’re the next targets.”

  Amaryllis readied a polite smile as Sheffield and his companion came to a halt in front of them. She was still holding the focus for Lucas when Sheffield turned the full force of his talent on him.

  The impact was stunning. The Senator’s charisma was breathtaking at close quarters. In spite of the fact that she had been expecting it and knew exactly how he was doing it, Amaryllis was shaken by Sheffield’s power.

  No question about it, Sheffield was a born leader. Exactly the sort of man that the city-state of New Seattle needed at this time in history. He was a man of extraordinary vision.

  “Nice to see you here tonight, Trent.” Sheffield’s eyes conveyed his extraordinary pleasure in Lucas’s presence. The senator was both humble and proud to have drawn such an important businessman to this gathering. “Lodestar Exploration has done a lot for New Seattle, and I want you to know that if the people of this city-state put me in the governor’s chair, companies such as Lodestar will have a strong voice in my administration.”

  Sheffield continued to chat. Companies such as Lodestar would flourish with Sheffield in office. Men such as Lucas Trent would receive the respect they deserved. They would be able to influence the decisions that impacted their operations. Taxes and regulations would be rolled back. Government would work to help business, not restrain it.

  Amaryllis realized that Lucas, as the main target of the focus, was getting an even heftier dose of the powerful, quasi-hypnotic charm, than she was.

  Without warning, the flow of Lucas’s detector-talent through the prism altered slightly. Amaryllis wondered what was happening. She watched the crisp, clear patterns of light soften and diffuse into a jumbled wall of meaningless energy.

  Sheffield continued to talk about his plans for New Seattle, but his voice no longer sounded so wonderfully warm. His charm faded. Amaryllis realized that she was not quite so ready to believe everything he said. His hair, which had looked so right a moment ago, appeared too slick for her taste now. His eyes held a cool, calculating quality and his smile looked artificial.

  Out on the psychic plane, Amaryllis watched Lucas’s wall of energy shimmer and pulse in a random fashion. She suddenly realized that he was using his talent to block Sheffield’s energy.

  Sheffield leaned closer, as if confiding in Lucas. “I want you to know that as the next governor of this city-state, I intend to form a business advisory council. I’d be honored if you would accept a position as the head of that council, Trent. You would have my full attention whenever you felt it necessary.”

  “I appreciate your confidence,” Lucas said.

  Sheffield’s smile remained in place, but his gaze grew more intense. The woman with him began to look uneasy.

  “I can’t think of anyone better suited to the job than you, Trent.”

  “I’m a little busy at the moment.”

  Sheffield appeared to realize that he was not having his customary effect. Amaryllis saw Lucas’s energy barrier shimmer beneath a renewed onslaught of focused charm. Sheffield was strong. Very, very strong.

  The woman standing next to Sheffield put her fingertips to her forehead, as though she had developed a splitting headache.

  Lucas fought Sheffield’s psychic power by easing more energy through the prism that Amaryllis had created. She held the focus for him. The waves of hypnotic charisma receded.

  A battle was being waged on the psychic plane. It was a silent skirmish between two very powerful talents. This sort of thing was supposed to be impossible. It was like something out of one of Orchid Adams’s novels.

  Sheffield’s jaw clenched visibly. He took a step closer to Lucas. The attractive woman at his side looked haunted now. Perspiration dampened the hair at her temples. Amaryllis knew she was struggling to hold Sheffield
’s focus.

  There was a surge of energy and then, with astonishing suddenness, it was all over. The silent warfare ceased. The last remnants of Sheffield’s enthralling charm vanished in a heartbeat.

  Sheffield, sweat glistening on his brow, nodded abruptly to Lucas and moved off to talk to someone else. The woman with him trailed unhappily in his wake.

  “He burned out his prism,” Amaryllis whispered.

  “No wonder he’s never submitted to testing and certification. He’s strong.”

  “Stronger than you are, do you think?”

  “Maybe. Who knows?” Lucas smiled faintly. “All the power in the world won’t do him any good unless he finds himself a prism who can handle his talent.”

  Chapter

  13

  Lucas awoke very suddenly right after midnight, the dream still vivid in his mind. In the nightmarish images he had been running through the wild, thick jungles of the Western Islands, searching desperately for Amaryllis. She was lost somewhere in the impenetrable foliage. He had to find her.

  He opened his eyes and gazed into the dark shadows of Amaryllis’s bedroom. Adrenaline still pounded through his veins. He was damp with perspiration.

  He reached for Amaryllis, found her, cradled her close against him. Even now, wide awake as he was, a part of him was still afraid that she would disappear, just as she had in his dream.

  Amaryllis stirred in his arms.

  “Lucas? Is something wrong?”

  “Hobart Batt, my counselor at Synergistic Connections, called today. He gave me an appointment for the personal interview. Two days from now. At four in the afternoon.”

  “What a coincidence.” Amaryllis sat up slowly and wrapped her arms around her knees. Her eyes were dark and mysterious in the moonlight. “I got a call from my counselor, too. Mrs. Reeton made my interview appointment for Friday also. Clementine said I could take the afternoon off from work.”

  It was all happening too fast, Lucas thought. In the beginning he had signed on with Synergistic Connections because the company had a reputation for efficiency as well as for working with high-class talents. But the matchmaking firm was proving to be too efficient for his taste.