by Jayne Castle
Emmett London, newly appointed chief of the Cadence Guild, was formerly engaged to wed Tamara McIntyre (now Mrs. Mercer Wyatt) in a Covenant Marriage in Resonance City. According to sources who spoke on condition of anonymity, the wedding was called off abruptly after the bride-to-be was introduced to the boss of the Cadence Guild, Mercer Wyatt, at the engagement ball.
In a magazine interview last month, Mrs. Wyatt maintained that she had been "swept off her feet" by the dynamic Wyatt and that the two intended to convert their current Marriage of Convenience into a full Covenant Marriage in the near future.
A spokesperson for the Resonance Guild assured this reporter that the engagement between London and Tamara Wyatt had ended amicably. But other sources, speaking off the record, hinted that London was furious about the breakup and vowed revenge.
"Revenge?" Lydia reread the last line of the story, appalled. "This idiot reporter is implying that Emmett wanted revenge because Mercer Wyatt stole his fiancée."
"Yes, indeed."
"Oh, jeez." Lydia sat down hard on her desk chair. "This is terrible."
"You'll notice that the article stops short of actually suggesting that London may have been the one who shot Wyatt," Melanie said dryly. "But the implication is a little hard to miss."
"It's impossible to miss." The chill in Lydia's stomach turned into an even more unpleasant sensation of hollowness. "This could turn into a disaster."
"Forget that. Let's get to the interesting stuff. Any of it true? Was the lovely Mrs. Tamara Wyatt London's fiancée at one time?"
Lydia cleared her throat. "Well, yes."
Melanie's eyes rounded. "Oh, my."
"But the engagement didn't end because Tamara got swept off her feet by Mercer Wyatt." Lydia thumped the cover of the tabloid in disgust. "Good grief, he's forty years older than she is."
"Still in great shape though, I hear," Melanie said cheerfully. "At least he was until yesterday. Why did the engagement end?"
"Emmett informed her just before the engagement party that he had accomplished his objectives for the reorganization of the Resonance Guild and planned to step down. He wanted to go into private consulting. That did not suit Tamara. She had other goals."
"Wanted to be Mrs. Guild Boss, huh?"
"She sure did. As it happened good old Mercer Wyatt had recently been widowed and was apparently in the market for a new bride." Lydia turned one hand, palm up. "Tamara ended the engagement."
Melanie drew up one bare knee and clasped her hands around it. The motion hiked her lacy skirt dangerously high on her thighs. "How did Emmett feel about being dumped?"
"He had a very narrow escape and he knows it."
"It says in the paper that they were planning a Covenant Marriage. It would have been a legal and financial nightmare to get out of it once the vows had been spoken." Melanie shook her head. "Wonder why they didn't go for a standard Marriage of Convenience, first?"
Lydia cranked back in the squeaky desk chair and swiveled slightly from side to side. "Emmett is a long-term planner, one of those types who sets goals and then does whatever it takes to accomplish them. He probably applied that management approach when he set out to marry Tamara."
"Well, you've got to admit, she does seem to be the perfect Guild boss wife. She's not only beautiful, she's stylish and smart. Heck, she's an executive in her own right. Look how active she's been on the boards of all those charities and social clubs this past year. She's done more to promote a more modern, mainstream image for the Cadence Guild in the past year than anyone else has done since Jerrett Knox defeated Vincent Lee Vance."
"I know." Lydia drummed her fingers on the top of her desk. She did not need to be reminded of the long list of Tamara Wyatt's personal assets and accomplishments. "I've met her. She's impressive but she would have been the wrong woman for Emmett. I'm pretty sure he knows that now."
"Of course he does," Melanie said loyally. "It's obvious that you are the right woman for him."
They both thought about that for a while.
Melanie cleared her throat. "So, where was Emmett London in the early morning hours when Mercer Wyatt was getting shot in the back?"
"The leader of Zane Hoyt's Hunter-Scout troop asked him to help supervise the boys on a camping trip. They got back around two in the morning. By the time Emmett dropped the kids off at their various homes and got to his place it was three. Wyatt had just arrived in the emergency room."
"The paper says that Wyatt was shot sometime between two and three," Melanie pointed out.
"Uh-huh."
"Sounds like Emmett might have a little trouble accounting for the time between dropping off the last Hunter-Scout and answering the phone call from the hospital."
Lydia leveled a finger at her. "Don't even think of going there, Mel. At the most, we're talking twenty minutes."
Melanie pursed her lips but refrained from pointing out that twenty minutes was long enough to murder someone.
Lydia sighed. "Luckily, Detective Martinez seemed satisfied that Emmett was not a suspect. After all, it was Wyatt himself who appointed Emmett to take over on an interim basis. He wouldn't have done that if he thought that Emmett had tried to murder him."
Melanie rocked back and forth on the desk a couple of times. "But Wyatt was shot in the back, according to the papers, and never saw the person who tried to kill him. Plus, I'll bet that Martinez didn't know about this lovers' triangle thing when she questioned you and Emmett. Her view of the situation may change when she finds out those three had a tangled past."
Lydia slumped deeper into her chair.
"On the other hand," Melanie continued on a brighter note, "this is a Guild matter and everyone knows that the Guild polices its own." She hopped off the desk. "Well, gotta run. Things to do. By the way I meant to tell you that Shrimp is feeling very pleased with himself."
"Why is that?"
"He got an offer from a private collector for the Mudd Sarcophagus. The guy apparently saw it in the Tomb Wing last week and wants it badly because it fills out his collection. He's willing to pay a lot more than it's worth. Shrimp is thrilled, as you can imagine. He says you can use the profits to get a more interesting coffin." She rolled her eyes. "What a concept, huh? An interesting coffin."
"Thanks for the heads-up."
"The client is making arrangements to pick it up Friday at five. Shrimp wants you to supervise the crating and packing and see that it gets safely out the door with all the paperwork in order."
"I'll make a note." Lydia pulled her desk calendar toward her and flipped the pages to Friday's date.
"Also, just so you'll know, I'm going to slip out of here a little early today. Got a date with Jack tonight."
Jack Brodie, Lydia knew, was another in a long line of ghost-hunter dates for Melanie.
"Don't tell me, let me guess," Lydia said. "The two of you are going to spend the evening somewhere in the Old Quarter."
Melanie wiggled her brows. "Jack promised me that he'll summon a little ghost or two to burn before we go back to my place."
"Have fun," Lydia mumbled.
"Oh, I'm sure I will. You know what they say, there's nothing like a hunter in bed after he's burned a ghost. We're talking hot, hot, hot." Melanie grinned from the doorway. "But you already know that, don't you? After all, you're dating the top hunter, himself."
"Emmett is stuck in an office for the foreseeable future." Lydia knew she sounded unbearably prim. She couldn't help it. Melanie's easy way with sexual innuendos and her casual lust for hunters was always a bit disconcerting. She could feel herself turning a vivid shade of pink. "He hasn't got time to zap ghosts for fun and games."
"Too bad." Melanie disappeared around the corner.
Lydia sat for a long time, staring morosely at the front page photo of the Tattler. The gossip about a scandalous lovers' triangle at the top of the Cadence Guild was only going to get worse. The story was simply too juicy to fade away.
If anyone could take care of hims
elf, it was Emmett, she thought. But he had his hands full at the moment.
Something told her that the next few days and weeks were going to be very difficult for all of them.
Chapter 9
EMMETT OPENED THE file that Perkins, Wyatt's administrative assistant, had just handed him. "This is the list of people who phoned Wyatt the day before he was shot?"
"This is the list I gave to Detective Martinez, when she interviewed me," Perkins said with clipped precision. "It includes all of the business calls, both incoming and outgoing, that were made from this office on that date."
Emmett looked up. Perkins probably had a first name but no one in Wyatt's headquarters had used it in so long that it had been forgotten. Perkins evidently preferred it that way.
He was a small, dapper man who looked more like a butler than a professional secretary. A circle of close-cropped gray hair surrounded his gleaming bald pate. He peered at Emmett through gold-framed spectacles.
"Can I assume from the way you responded to my question that there were some calls of a personal nature that were not included on this list?" Emmett asked evenly.
Perkins cleared his throat. "There was one that I saw no reason to add."
Emmett raised his brows. "You made that decision on your own?"
Perkins drew himself up to his full height. "I have worked for Mr. Wyatt for twenty-three years. I think I know him well enough to say that he would not have wanted me to give the caller's name to the police."
"Because?"
"Because the call was from an old friend of his who was, I'm sure, in no way connected to the dreadful events."
Emmett rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I'll need the name, Perkins."
"Yes, sir, I understand, sir. The caller's name was Sandra Thornton."
Emmett frowned. "She gave you her name when she phoned?"
"No, sir, but I recognized her voice immediately."
"She calls frequently?"
"She hasn't called at all in the past two years, but before that Miss Thornton and Mr. Wyatt had a close, extremely personal relationship for a period of several months. During that time, she called Mr. Wyatt's private number on several occasions."
One of Wyatt's former mistresses, Emmett thought. Great. Talk about complications. He closed the file and stacked his hands on top of it. "Let me get this straight, Perkins. One of Mercer Wyatt's old lovers who hasn't been in touch in two years just happens to call the day before Wyatt gets shot and you didn't think that was worth mentioning to the cops?"
Perkins looked down his nose at Emmett. "I beg your pardon, sir, but this is Guild business of the most personal nature."
Emmett tried not to grind his back teeth. He reminded himself that this was the Cadence Guild, not the new, reformed Resonance Guild. In spite of Wyatt's avowed intentions to modernize the organization, they still did a lot of things the old-fashioned way in this town. And by long-standing tradition, Guild affairs were guided by one unshakable precept: Guild business stays within the Guild.
"What's the story on Sandra Thornton?" Emmett asked, reigning in irritation. "Think she's still got feelings for Wyatt? Was she angry when he broke off the relationship?"
Perkins blinked a couple of times in obvious surprise. "My understanding is that Miss Thornton was the one who ended the affair, sir, not Mr. Wyatt."
"Did she call it off because Wyatt was seeing other women besides her?"
"I have no idea why she ended the arrangement, sir." Perkins cleared his throat. "Mr. Wyatt did not confide that information."
He wished Perkins hadn't used the word arrangement.
"Did Wyatt say anything after Thornton called? How did he react? Was he annoyed?"
"Perhaps a bit preoccupied, sir, but that was all." Perkins hesitated. "He did ask me not to mention the call to Mrs. Wyatt, however."
"Why not?"
"Mr. Wyatt cares deeply for Mrs. Wyatt. I believe he was afraid that she would be hurt or upset if she knew that an old flame had contacted him."
Tamara would not have been pleased, that was certain. Emmett considered his options. He would turn the information over to Detective Martinez, but given the extensive resources and manpower available to him through the Guild, he could probably find Sandra Thornton a lot sooner than the cops.
Wyatt's last coherent words before he went unconscious rang in his ears: It wasn't politics, it was personal.
"Get hold of Verwood," Emmett said. "Tell him I want to see him immediately."
Lloyd Verwood was in charge of Guild security here in Cadence. The only thing Emmett knew about him was that Wyatt had appointed him to the position. That was enough. Verwood wouldn't have gotten the job if he wasn't good.
"Yes, sir," Perkins said. "Shall I—"
He stopped when the door opened without warning. Tamara Wyatt walked into the office. One look at her tense, drawn expression and Emmett knew that she was very tightly rezzed. The stress she was under was taking its toll.
"Perkins." She nodded at the little man. "Wondered where you were."
"Mrs. Wyatt." Perkins bobbed his head deferentially and then looked at Emmett for directions.
"That's all for now, Perkins," Emmett said. "Let me know when Verwood gets here."
"Yes, sir." Perkins left, closing the door discreetly behind him.
Tamara went straight to the window and stood looking out at the view of the Dead City and the mountains beyond. In spite of the strain she had been under since the call that had summoned her to the hospital, she was as sleek and polished as ever. Her dark hair was neatly coiled in an elegant chignon that focused attention on the excellent bones of her striking face. She wore her amber in her earrings.
Tamara was a ghost-hunter, a strong one, although she had never worked much underground. Her interests lay elsewhere. Tamara preferred the halls of Guild politics to the alien catacombs.
She was a beautiful woman, endowed with that subtle aura that people called glamour. The old meaning of the word implied sorcery and magic and looking back he figured he must have been under some kind of spell when he had proposed to her. Or maybe he just hadn't been paying much attention, he thought. Either way it was hard to explain why he hadn't noticed the single-minded, all-consuming thirst for power that guided Tamara's every move.
The tabloids had got it wrong this morning. His engagement to her hadn't ended because she had been swept off her feet by Mercer Wyatt. Tamara would never have allowed herself to be distracted from her objectives by anything so mundane and inconsequential as passion.
The truth was that Mercer and Tamara were in many ways a perfect match, he thought. In spite of the fact that Wyatt was nearly four decades older than her, they had a lot in common. They both had a talent for manipulating Guild politics and they were both obsessively loyal to the organization.
But last month Mercer had informed Emmett that he intended to retire so that he would have more time to enjoy life and his lovely new bride. Emmett was pretty sure that news must have come as a shock to Tamara.
"I assume you've seen the headlines in the tabloids this morning," Tamara said curtly.
"Hard to miss 'em."
"They couldn't get much worse. What if the media picks up those old rumors about you being Mercer's illegitimate son?"
"My birth certificate states that I am the son of John London. As far as I'm concerned that's the way it's going to stand."
"What a hideous mess." Tamara turned away from the window and began to pace the room. "Any news from the police?"
"No. I assume they are following their own leads." He leaned back in his chair. "I'm going to start a private investigation using Guild resources."
She nodded in a distracted manner. "I just came from the hospital. Mercer's two daughters are there now. They arrived a couple of hours ago." Her jaw tightened. "They are not particularly fond of me, you know. They tolerate me because they have no choice, but as far as they're concerned I married their father for mercenary reasons."
"Well
, look at the bright side. They'll probably want to stay in a hotel while they're in town. You won't have to put them up at your house."
"That is not very funny, Emmett." She halted on the far side of the room. "There are a couple of problems that have to be dealt with immediately. First, you do realize that your temporary appointment has to be ratified by a majority of the Guild Council as soon as possible?"
"I've scheduled a meeting of the Council on Thursday. Can't do it any sooner than that because three of the members are out of town."
She frowned. "Confirming you as the acting head of the organization may not be a sure thing, even though everyone knows that Mercer handpicked you to take over in his absence."
"I think that, under the circumstances, there won't be any problem getting a majority."
"Maybe not, but there's always the possibility of a challenge from one of the members of the Council," she warned.
"I don't think that's very likely, do you?"
"I'd like to say that it won't be an issue. After all, you've only been appointed on a temporary basis." Her eyes narrowed. "It's not like you're taking charge of the Guild permanently, is it?"
"No," he agreed mildly. "Wyatt can have this desk back as soon as he wants it. What's the problem, here, Tamara?"
"Foster Dorning may be the problem."
Emmett raised his brows. "What makes you think that?"
"He was elected to the Council a few months ago. He came up through the ranks very quickly. Mercer thinks Dorning greased the way with a lot of bribes and favors."
"Sounds like Guild politics as usual."
She looked at him from across the room. "I think he has his eye on this office. He may try to take advantage of the current situation."
"By issuing a formal challenge?"
"If Dorning won the challenge and claimed the position before Mercer gets out of the hospital it might be impossible to unseat him. You know how murky Guild law and tradition are when it comes to this kind of thing."
"Let me worry about Dorning."
"Emmett, I know you're a very strong para-rez. I've seen you work. But the word is that Dorning is extremely powerful, too. What's more, I don't trust him. If it comes down to a formal challenge—"