by Jayne Castle
“I think so, yes.”
“But if that’s the case, how did she get the ghost-burn?”
“Maybe she waited until the hunter left and then tried to retrieve the sled. Blues are more volatile than greens. All she had to do was get a little too close to that vortex, and she would have been singed.”
“After she got zapped she maintained consciousness long enough to crawl into the nearest chamber, and then she passed out.”
“That’s my take on it, yeah.” Cooper munched some toast.
Elly exhaled deeply. “It fits with your theory that she stumbled into a drug-making operation.”
“That’s sure how it looks to me.”
She leaned back in the chair and stretched her legs out under the table. “One thing I don’t get here. Why have the Guilds been so anxious to keep the blues a secret all these years?”
He chased the last of the eggs around the plate with a piece of toast. “Two reasons. First, unlike greens, blues can be manipulated with far more precision and speed. Even a small one can be used to kill.”
“They can be turned into weapons more easily than greens?”
“Not only that, a hunter who knows what he’s doing can convert a blue vortex into a sort of psi-seeking missile that will home in on a specific piece of tuned amber.”
“In other words, it combines the elements of a weapon with those of an amber-rez directional locator or a compass?”
He nodded. “You have to know the frequency of the target amber, but if you’ve got that—” He let the sentence end, unfinished.
“And last night, the amber in Bertha’s sled was the target?”
“Looks like it.”
She shuddered. “Okay, I can see where that information would make the general population a bit more nervous about hunters.”
He drank some more tea and lowered the mug. “The good news is that blue energy is only effective underground in the catacombs. You can create some splashy fireworks with it aboveground if you’re very strong and if you know what you’re doing, but there’s not enough of it up here to manipulate into a vortex, which is what’s needed to turn it into a weapon.”
“What’s the other reason the Guilds have tried to keep blues hushed up?”
“Does the name Donovan Cork resonate?”
“The serial killer?” Startled, she set her mug down hard on the table. “The guy who used to lure women down into the catacombs and murder them? He could rez blues?”
“Yes. That’s how he killed his victims. Death by blue looks a lot like a heart attack.”
She frowned. “He murdered a number of prostitutes before they finally found his body in the tunnels. No one could figure out exactly how he had killed the women. They assumed it was some sort of fast-acting poison. As I recall, the authorities concluded that Cork, himself, had taken the poison when he feared that he was about to be arrested.”
Cooper watched her over the rim of the mug. “How about Stewart Picton? Ever heard of him?”
“Well, of course. He’s in all the history books. Forty years ago he set out to blackmail several members of the Federation Council. If they didn’t pay off, he murdered them and their spouses. He was finally stopped but not before he had killed at least four people.”
“J. Herbert Harris?”
“Another serial killer,” she said. “Very famous case a couple of years ago. There were several best-selling true crime books written about him.” She paused, frowning. “They found his body in the tunnels, too.”
“There have been others over the years.”
“Are you telling me that they were all hunters who could rez blue ghost energy?”
“Yes. Fortunately, most blue freaks are identified as problems early on and removed before they become notorious.”
A small chill slipped down her spine. “Blue freaks? Is that what they’re called?”
His mouth tightened at the corners. “Yes.”
“So who removes these guys when they become problems?” she asked carefully.
“You know the old saying about how the Guild polices itself?”
She made a face. “Everyone knows that. Frankly, most people assume that’s the Guild’s way of avoiding having to deal with local law enforcement.”
“The Guilds don’t mind letting local cops take care of the run-of-the-mill criminals in the ranks. For the most part it’s good for the image. Says we don’t consider ourselves above the law.”
“Not everyone believes that, but never mind. Go on.”
“Image issues aside, the cops don’t have the resources to track down and neutralize a rogue hunter who can pull blue ghost energy,” Cooper said. “Even if they could track one through the tunnels, which is where guys like that tend to retreat if they’re in danger of getting caught, they wouldn’t have the firepower to bring him down. You know how it is down in the catacombs. Like most other high-tech devices, guns don’t work well there.”
“Okay, I think I see where you’re going here. Let me guess; it takes a blue hunter to stop one of these blue freaks, right?”
“Yeah, that’s pretty much what it comes down to in the end.”
“Wow.” She propped her elbows on the table and cradled her chin on her hands. “Those guys must be the mysterious enforcers I used to hear my brothers whispering about from time to time.”
“Enforcers?”
“That’s what they called them. They would never tell me exactly what an enforcer did, of course. Big Guild secret, you know. Probably weren’t exactly sure, themselves.”
“I’d like to think that was the case,” Cooper said dryly. “Only members of the Guild Councils are supposed to be aware of the blues and everything that goes with them. But now that I’ve learned how gossip runs through the Guild halls, I won’t hold my breath.”
“I told you once before: Never underestimate the power of rumor and gossip.”
His jaw tightened. “Believe me, I haven’t forgotten.”
She got up and went back to the counter to pour herself another cup of tea. “So the Guilds have these secret enforcers to deal with blue freaks?”
“That is more or less the job description.” He paused a beat. “The hunters who pursue that particular career path prefer the title of investigator, I believe. Enforcer sounds like a hit man.”
She waved that aside. “I suppose the reason I haven’t heard more gossip about the blues and the enforcers over the years is because we never had any problems of that sort in the Aurora Springs Guild. One of the advantages of being a small-town organization, no doubt. Lower crime rates.”
“Got news for you.” He watched her very steadily from the other side of the table, “The Aurora Springs Guild did have a problem with a blue freak a while back. He went into the murder-for-hire business. Sold his services for nearly a year quite successfully before someone on the Council realized what was going on. The freak was always careful to take contracts out of town in one of the big cities so as to lower the risk of drawing attention to himself at home.”
“Are you serious?”
“I never joke about Guild business.”
“True,” she agreed. “Well? Who was he? You’ve told me this much, you have to tell me the rest.”
He shrugged. “The freak was Haggerty.”
“Haggerty?” She couldn’t believe her ears. “Douglas Haggerty, the former Guild boss? Your predecessor?”
“Yes.”
“That’s amazing. He was the boss of the Aurora Springs Guild for over ten years. Good grief, the man made a pass. He wanted to marry me.”
Cooper raised his brows. “Your father was the Council member who first became suspicious of him. That was one of the reasons John made sure Haggerty didn’t get anywhere near you.”
“Holy dust bunny.” She whistled softly. “This is incredible. So that’s the reason Haggerty disappeared, huh? The Council brought in one of those enforcers to get rid of him?”
“They voted to bring in an investigator who w
orked undercover for a while, figuring out exactly what was going on and gathering evidence.”
“Undercover?” She shook her head. “Real cloak-and-dagger stuff, I guess.”
“Well—”
“Who was the enforcer?” she asked. “Is he still hanging around the Guild Hall back in Aurora Springs, or did he ride off into the sunset after getting rid of the bad guy?”
“As a matter of fact, he’s here in Cadence.”
“What’s he doing here?” she demanded. “Or is that top secret?”
“At the moment he’s having breakfast. Hoping for a second cup of tea.”
She closed her eyes and sagged back against the counter. “You.”
“Afraid so.”
She opened her eyes and smiled wryly. “And to think that I mistook you for a genuine Guild librarian.”
He got up abruptly, heading toward the kitchen counter. “I was a genuine Guild librarian. Still am, for that matter.” He picked up the teapot. “Just because I’m now the chief exec of the Aurora Springs Guild doesn’t change the past or my training.”
She had managed to put a dent in his icy self-control with that last comment, she realized. He had not liked the implication that he had misled her.
“You just said you were an enforcer,” she reminded him.
“Investigator.” He splashed tea into his cup. “But since an investigator invariably has to do his work undercover, it means he has to have a real job that provides a legitimate cover.”
“So you became a real librarian?”
“I like the work.” He put the pot down on the hot plate. “I believe in learning from history. And the profession provided convenient camouflage for my investigations, regardless of the location. Every Guild has a historical archive. It never ceases to amaze me how people are inclined to underestimate folks who work with books and manuscripts.”
“Well, I suppose your old job description isn’t the issue any longer. You are now a Guild boss with a talent for raising blue ghosts. Last night we discovered that a blue freak tried to kill Bertha, presumably because she uncovered his drug operation. Obviously we have a situation here.”
“Afraid so.”
“What happens next?”
“I’m going to do some preliminary background work today. Then, tonight, you and I are going to dinner at the home of a friend of mine.”
“You’ve got a friend here in town?” she asked.
“You don’t have to look at me like that. Just because I’m a Guild boss doesn’t mean I don’t have friends.”
“I didn’t mean . . . oh, never mind.” She raised her eyes to the ceiling and sighed. “What’s the name of this friend?”
“Emmett London. He and his wife, Lydia, have a town house in another section of the Old Quarter.”
“What?” She straightened. “We’re invited to dinner at the home of the Mr. and Mrs. Emmett London?”
He raised his brows. “Is that a problem?”
“They were all over the newspapers about three months back. Emmett London took over as Guild boss here in Cadence for a while when Mercer Wyatt was hospitalized.”
Cooper looked amused. “I heard that.”
She ignored the interruption. “Emmett and Lydia were local celebrities for a short time. The tabloids made a big deal out of their relationship. It was so romantic. And the wedding was spectacular. I saw the photographs in the papers. Lydia wore the most gorgeous gown.”
“When the invitation was extended, I happened to mention Rose. I was told that you should feel free to bring her along.”
“Really?”
“Evidently Lydia London also has dust bunnies.”
“Good heavens,” Elly said. “This is the first time Rose has been invited out for dinner. She’ll probably spend hours choosing the right bracelet for the occasion.”
Chapter 12
SHORTLY AFTER ELEVEN O’CLOCK THAT MORNING, ELLY saw the door of Thornton’s Alien Antiquities open. Doreen Thornton, the proprietor, emerged. She was cutting-edge trendy, as usual, in a tight, tiny pink skirt and snug green sweater that showed off her hourglass figure to advantage. Fishnet stockings and pink-and-green heels finished the look.
Doreen’s tight black curls framed pretty, dark-brown features and riveting dark eyes. She wore an amber pendant around her neck.
Elly knew that the amber in Doreen’s pendant was genuine. The stone was of good quality and professionally tuned. Doreen had spent a lot of money on it.
Like Bertha, Doreen was an ephemeral-energy para-resonator, a tangler who could handle the dangerous illusion traps that peppered the catacombs. Like Bertha, she had never had the advantages of a college education and therefore had never qualified to join the exclusive Society of Para-Archaeologists. Drawn to the world underground, as were so many with her type of parapsych abilities, she had chosen to eke out a living as a ruin rat.
It was either that or get a job as a cocktail waitress, she had explained to Elly.
Doreen had been one of the first on Ruin Lane to welcome Elly to the neighborhood. Elly had been grateful for both the friendship and the fashion advice. Until she met Doreen she had not realized how sadly unstylish her Aurora Springs wardrobe was.
Doreen darted across the mist-bound street and opened the door of St. Clair’s Herbal Emporium. The bell tinkled.
“Man, I don’t think this fog is ever going to lift,” she announced, closing the door. “I know this is the season for it, but I can’t remember the last time it hung around for so long. Not good for business, that’s for sure.”
“Tell me about it,” Elly said, leaning on the counter. “I’ve only had two customers all morning.”
Rose, crouched over her little box of bracelets at the end of the counter, chortled a greeting.
Doreen patted her affectionately. “You are looking fabulous today, my little fashionista.” She peered more closely at the strand of green stones that sparkled in Rose’s gray fur. “New bracelet?”
Rose preened.
“She helped herself to it out of my jewelry box this morning,” Elly explained.
“Give the girl credit. She knows what looks good on her.”
“Maybe, but at the rate things are going, I’m not going to have any bracelets left,” Elly said.
“So take Rose shopping.”
“I may have to do that. How was the visit to the parents?”
“The usual. Dad coughed up a small loan to help with the rent on the shop this month.” Doreen made a face. “Had to listen to another lecture from my mom and my aunt on the subject of getting serious about a Covenant Marriage. I drove back here as fast as I could very early this morning.”
Elly went to the hot plate and poured two mugs of the herbal tisane that she had made earlier. The aromatic blend of Harmonic honey, redstick spice, and amber root made a pleasant contrast to the damp, gray day.
“Did you tell them about the new boyfriend?” she asked, carrying the mugs back to the counter.
“No.” Doreen picked up one of the mugs and inhaled the fragrance with an air of delight. “Figured they would just start asking questions, and I really can’t talk about him yet. I gave him my word that I would keep our relationship quiet until after he’s finished with this new assignment.”
“Must be hard dating a cop.”
“The hours are weird, that’s for sure.” Doreen grinned. “Kind of exciting, though. He’s such a hunk, and he sure doesn’t dress like the average detective. The man has a sense of style like you would not believe.”
“I can’t wait to meet him.”
“I’ll introduce you as soon as he’s off this current case. He says that until it’s finished, he has to keep a very low profile, especially in the Old Quarter. He can’t risk being seen by the bad guys. So, what’s up with you? I heard you had a visitor last night.”
Elly winced. “Word travels fast.”
“Especially on Ruin Lane. I got the story from Phillip and Garrick first thing today. They said the
y saw a black Spectrum EX parked in the alley behind your shop last night and that it didn’t leave until after eight this morning. Can you confirm or deny?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’ll take that as a confirm.” Doreen grinned. “Well?”
“There’s not much to tell,” Elly mumbled. “Just a friend from out of town. I let him stay overnight at my place. No big deal.”
“How can you say that? He spent the whole night.”
“Not in my bed,” Elly said.
It was always nice to be able to tell the truth.
Chapter 13
BOTH THE BLUE VORTEX AND THE UTILITY SLED WERE gone.
Impossible.
Shaken, the killer stared at the section of the catacombs where he had rezzed the blue and anchored it to the sled.
He checked his amber for the fifth or sixth time, wondering if he had taken a wrong turn somewhere in the catacombs on his way back to this place. But when he pulsed a little psi power through the navigational device he got the same reading. This was the precise spot where he had nailed Newell’s sled.
There was no way the woman could have de-rezzed the blue. She was a tangler, not a hunter, let alone a blue hunter.
Nothing and no one could have destroyed the vortex except another dissonance-energy para-rez who could do what he could do with energy from the blue end of the spectrum. That kind of parapsych talent was so rare that it had become the stuff of myth and legend.
There was no escaping the obvious: Another blue had de-rezzed his vortex. Coincidences of this magnitude were even more scarce than hunters who could raise blue ghosts.
That damned blue freak, Cooper Boone, was in town. Somehow he had found Bertha Newell last night.
Chapter 14
“WHEN IT COMES TO BARBECUING FISH, THE FIRST RULE IS to make sure the grill is clean and well-oiled.” Emmett London made an adjustment to one of the gleaming knobs on the giant outdoor grill. “That’s what keeps the filets from sticking, falling apart, and dropping into the fire.”
Cooper lounged against the deck railing, drink in hand, and surveyed the massive grill. Flames leaped and smoke roiled out across the deck, mingling with the fog.