Текст книги "Deception Cove"

Автор книги: Jayne Krentz

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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Chapter 4

DRAKE DE-REZZED THE FLASH-ROCK ENGINE OF THE rental car he had picked up at the airport. He sat quietly for a moment, his hands resting on the steering wheel, and studied the four-story apartment building. The sign at the entrance read: DEAD CITY SUITES—YOUR HOME AWAY FROM HOME. RENT BY THE WEEK. CASH ONLY.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Alice said. She freed herself from the seat belt. “Not exactly what a Sebastian would consider a suitable home away from home. But it’s clean and for the most part the plumbing works.”

She opened the door, got out, and reached back for her tote. She slung the tote over one shoulder and held out an arm to Houdini, who was perched on the back of her seat.

“Cleanliness and good plumbing are important considerations when choosing an apartment,” Drake said as he climbed out of the car.

It wasn’t the amenities of the Dead City Suites that concerned him. It was the location. The Colonial-era apartment building didn’t look as run-down as some by-the-week flophouses he’d seen, but he did not like the idea that Alice had been walking home late at night through the scruffy neighborhood.

“Relax.” Alice looked at him over the top of the car. “There hasn’t been a mugging around here in days. We’ve got a very active neighborhood crime watch program.”

“Is that right?”

“A few retired ghost hunters live in this part of town. Some of them were at the Green Gate tonight. They’ve organized themselves into a regular night patrol. It’s a lot safer here than it is in the area near the theater.”

“If you say so.”

He got Alice’s wheeled suitcase out of the trunk of the car and started toward the entrance of the Dead City Suites. Alice did not move. When he realized she was not coming with him, he stopped and looked back.

“Something wrong?” he asked politely.

“Look, you really don’t have to walk me to my front door,” she said. “I appreciate the gesture but I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll see you to the door,” he said.

He resisted the urge to take her arm. He wanted to touch her, he realized. But she probably wouldn’t appreciate the familiarity.She was on edge now, ready to run. So he waited, not pushing it.

She hesitated and then reluctantly started walking with him toward the entrance.

“I’m making you nervous,” Drake said halfway across the parking lot.

“Members of powerful, reclusive families that operate large business empires definitely make me nervous.” Alice gave him a breezy smile. “After my little brush with the Whitcomb clan, I learned a really expensive lesson.”

“For the record, the Sebastians are not close with the Whitcombs.”

“Give me a break.” Alice stopped in front of the lobby door and de-rezzed the lock. “It’s a small world at the top of the social and business ladder. I’m sure you’re well acquainted with the Whitcombs.”

“They live in Resonance City.” He kept his tone flat and cool with an effort. “The Sebastians have always maintained their headquarters in Cadence City. I’m not saying we don’t know one another. Occasionally we end up at the same events.”

“Same clubs, same charity balls, same golf courses, same art museums and hospital boards, et cetera, et cetera. Yep, I know how it works.”

“I’m saying that the Whitcombs and the Sebastians are not close,” Drake repeated. “I’d appreciate it if you did not twist my words.”

“Sorry.” She made a face and went through the door. “It’s not your fault that you associate with the family of my ex. I realize that in your world you can’t avoid that kind of contact. But you can see why that fact complicates things a tad for me.”

Drake kept his mouth shut. Sometimes that was the safest course of action.

Alice looked around the dingy lobby with obvious relief. “Well, at least my landlord hasn’t locked us out yet, Houdini. The night is looking up.”

Houdini made cheerful noises.

“Easy for you to say,” Alice grumbled. “You don’t care if we have to sleep in a doorway.”

There was no elevator, Drake noticed. Alice took Houdini off her shoulder and set him on the first step of the staircase.

“You can walk,” she told him. “I’m not carrying you up four flights of stairs tonight.”

Houdini chortled again, as if going up the stairs was a game. He bounced up each step, keeping pace with Alice. And then, because she evidently moved too slowly, he bounced down a couple of steps, turned around, and scampered back to meet her.

Drake followed, allowing himself to enjoy the rear view of Alice in her snug black jeans.

“What is it with Rainshadow?” Alice paused at the second-floor landing, gripped the railing, and looked down at Drake. “That island has always had a weird psi-vibe from what I’ve been able to find out.”

“Based on what we learned recently, it looks like Rainshadow was at one time a giant bioengineering lab for the Aliens.”

Alice’s eyes widened. “Okay, that’s a chilling thought.”

“My brother and his fiancée recently found the ruins of an ancient aquarium filled with the results of some of the Aliens’ genetic experiments on marine animals.”

Alice started up the next flight of stairs. “Fossils, you mean?”

“Not fossils,” Drake said. He rounded the landing. “Living fish. Really, really bizarre fish. Sea monsters.”

“In an aquarium?”

“A giant, crystal-walled aquarium in a huge cavern. The aquarium was still operational and so were the creatures inside. They were bioengineered to survive in high-psi environments like Rainshadow. There was an explosion inside the cavern triggered by one of the three crystals. A lot of the creatures escaped into the flooded caves on the island.”

Alice paused on the third-floor landing to catch her breath. “Are we talking the kind of marine animals that snack on seaweed?”

“No. We’re talking the kind of monsters that would eat any human unlucky enough to fall into one of the cave pools.”

Alice started up the last flight of stairs. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“No, it’s not good.”

“But I still don’t see what I can do to help.”

“Neither do I, but my brother is convinced that we need you, and Harry is never wrong when it comes to this kind of stuff.”

“What kind of stuff, exactly, is he never wrong about?”

“Harry is in the security business. Specifically, he’s the head of Sebastian, Inc. security, which has responsibility for Rainshadow Foundation Security. When he’s working a case his intuition is off the charts.”

“Your brother has never even met me.”

“No, but now I have met you and I think he’s right,” Drake said. “We need you on the island. My intuition is pretty good, too.”

She glanced back over her shoulder. “You said your brother handles security for Sebastian, Inc. and the Foundation. But according to the business press, you’re in line to take over as CEO of the family empire.”

“You read the business press?”

“I became somewhat obsessed with it after Ethel Whitcomb started hounding me. It’s the only way I can keep track of her. As the head of Whitcomb Industries, she appears in the papers a lot.”

“Smart,” he said, appreciative of the tactic. “In answer to your question, my grandfather runs Sebastian, Inc. now. He intends to retire soon. No one else in the family, except me, wants to take over the job.”

She paused again and looked back, studying him. “But you want the job?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “I’ve wanted that job from the cradle.”

“Must be nice to know what you’re supposed to be doing in life,” she said. There was a wistful note in her words.

She arrived on the fourth floor and started toward the end of the hall, Houdini scampering along at her heels. Drake followed with the suitcase and pondered his strategy. He was pretty sure that Alice would go to Rainshadow with him, but it was by no means a done deal. She was still leery. He could not blame her. It was starting to look like he would be spending the night in the car, keeping watch on the Dead City Suites to make sure Alice did not pull another vanishing act.

He had told her nothing less than the truth. They needed all the help they could get on Rainshadow. The fact that Alice had been able to decipher Nick North’s psi-code map was important, so was her high-rez light-talent. But he was also increasingly certain that whatever had gone down before, during, and after the disastrous honeymoon on Rainshadow with Whitcomb was the real key to unlocking the mystery.

Someone was convinced that there was something worth killing for on the island.

Alice stopped in front of Number Three and took out a key. When she got the door open, a draft of fresh night air flowed out. Drake knew from her startled reaction that she had not left a window open inside the apartment.

In that instant Houdini growled and sleeked out, showing a lot of eyes and teeth.

“Oh, crap,” Alice whispered. “Not again.”

She stepped swiftly back into the hallway and promptly vanished, taking Houdini with her. Evidently she did not have enough energy left to shield the cobalt-blue tote bag because it was left hanging in midair.

Drake jacked up his senses so that he could see Alice. She reappeared a short distance away, Houdini crouched tensely on her shoulder.

“Stay clear of the door,” Drake said.

He had already let go of the suitcase and was on his way into the apartment, the light spear in his hand.

There was a lot of frantic movement somewhere inside. A hard object crashed to the floor.

The interior of the apartment was illuminated by the green psi-light streaming in through the windows. A man in a stocking mask rushed across the room, heading toward the sliding glass door that opened onto a minuscule balcony.

The intruder was fast, but Drake aimed the spear, got a fix, and rezzed the weapon. He used considerably less energy for the shot than he had used on the thugs in the alley. This time he wanted to have a conversation with the target.

Dark lightning flashed, striking the intruder.

The fleeing man gave a hoarse, panic-stricken cry. He staggered, flailing wildly as he lost his sense of balance. He went to his knees, tried to scramble back to his feet, and finally collapsed on the floor.

“Don’t move,” Drake said, “or I’ll use a higher setting.”

The intruder lay still, breathing hard. He stared at Drake through the holes in the stocking mask.

“Who the freaking hell are you?” he gasped.

“Enough about me,” Drake said. “Let’s talk about you.”

“Shit. I’m a private investigator. Jerry McCarson. License is in my wallet. What did you do to me?”

Drake ignored the question while he conducted a quick search for a weapon. He did not find one, but he did find a wallet.

The room lights came on just as he took out the license.

“I heard him say he’s a PI.” Alice sounded grimly resigned. She pulled the suitcase into the apartment and closed the door. “That means he’s working for Ethel Whitcomb. Looks like this is just not my night.”

Houdini was fully fluffed again. But he still had all four eyes open. He growled at McCarson.

Drake glanced at Alice. “You know this guy?”

“No, but he’s not the first snoop Ethel has sent after me,” Alice said. “She uses them to find out where I’m living, what name I’m using, and where I’m working. Then she systematically goes about getting me evicted and fired. It’s her idea of revenge.”

McCarson sat up nervously. “I was told you were blackmailing the Whitcomb family. They sent me to find out whatever I could so that they could send the cops after you.”

“Is that the story Ethel used this time?” Alice dropped her tote on a small table. “The last PI they hired to track me down thought he was looking for a long-lost daughter of the Whitcomb clan.”

“Look, I can explain this,” McCarson said. “It was just a job.”

Drake got to his feet. “No need to explain yourself to us. I’m going to call the cops. You can talk yourself hoarse to them.”

McCarson snorted. “Fine. But I can guarantee you that I won’t spend more than five minutes in jail, assuming the cops arrest me in the first place.”

Alice folded her arms and eyed McCarson with an air of acute disdain. “He’s right. It would be a waste of time to call the cops. And not in my best interests. You can bet that one way or the other, I’ll end up being questioned as a possible blackmailer. I know Ethel Whitcomb. I’ve been on the wrong end of this scenario often enough in the past year to know how it’s going to end. Ethel is engaged in a sophisticated form of stalking. She uses people like Mr. McCarson to do her dirty work for her.”

McCarson looked alarmed and somewhat offended. “Are you crazy? I’m a professional.”

Alice smiled her stage smile. “A professional stalker?”

“I’m not stalking you,” McCarson growled. “Like I said, I was told that you were blackmailing my client. Now, if you can prove otherwise—”

“She doesn’t have to prove anything,” Drake said. “You’re the one who broke in here tonight. Turns out I’m a witness. Convincing the police you’re not a stalker or a burglar will be your problem.”

“Go ahead, have it your way,” McCarson said. He shook his head. “But I’m telling you, you’re wasting your time. Ms. North is right in saying that the Whitcombs are powerful. They could buy and sell half of Resonance City. Who do you think the cops will believe?”

“I’m pretty sure they’ll take my word for what happened here tonight,” Drake said.

“Yeah?” McCarson looked amused. “Who do you think you are?”

“Drake Sebastian. My family owns Sebastian, Inc. Maybe you’ve heard of the firm. It could buy and sell Whitcomb Industries.”

McCarson groaned. “Ah, shit.”

“It gets better,” Drake said. “Among other things, we design and manufacture most of the high-tech security equipment and the psi-tronics that the local cops use. Sebastian, Inc. has a lot of connections with the Crystal City PD.”

McCarson grimaced. “Shit.”

“We’ve also got an excellent relationship with the local Ghost Hunters Guild. I could call in a favor from the Crystal City boss. Trust me when I tell you that the Whitcombs don’t have any influence over him. The Guilds have always been good at making problems disappear into the tunnels.”

McCarson exhaled heavily. “I believe you. You’ve made your point. I knew this job sounded a little too good to be true.”

“Unfortunately, pressing charges against you and making them stick would be more trouble than it’s worth,” Drake said. “I don’t have the time to spare. I think we might be able to resolve this situation to everyone’s satisfaction, however.”

McCarson eyed him with deep suspicion. “What’s it going to cost me?”

Drake smiled. “Your specialty: information.”

McCarson looked even more wary. “Information about who or what?”

“Your client must have given you a file on Ms. North.”

“What of it?”

“I want everything that’s in it.”

McCarson managed a fairly good imitation of appearing deeply offended. “Haven’t you ever heard of client confidentiality?”

“Sure, but your little act of breaking and entering tonight indicates to me that your ethics are somewhat flexible.”

McCarson’s mouth twisted. “Just trying to make a living.” He shot a veiled look at Alice. “Besides, as far as I knew, Ms. North is a blackmailer. That ranks pretty damn low on the ethics scale.”

“It would if it were true,” Drake said. “But it’s not.”

“How do you know that?”

Drake started to respond but there was no need.

“Get real, McCarson,” Alice snapped. She threw out her arms to indicate the shabby little studio apartment. “Do you think I’d be living in a dump like this if I was making big bucks blackmailing the Whitcombs?”

McCarson blinked. It was clear he had not considered that angle.

“Huh,” he said. His brow furrowed. “Well, maybe you haven’t been able to spend the money yet.”

Alice raised her eyes to the ceiling. “Oh, for pity’s sake. Face the truth, Mr. McCarson. You’re working for a woman who is obsessed with revenge. I get that. But she’s wasting time and money looking in all the wrong places. She should be looking for whoever murdered her son.”

“That’s enough,” Drake said. He studied McCarson. “I want the file. I assume it’s on your computer.”

“No, Mrs. Whitcomb’s assistant gave me a hardcopy file when I agreed to take the job,” McCarson said. “For some reason the client doesn’t want a computer file created.”

“Sure, because it would be evidence that she’s been stalking me,” Alice said.

McCarson ignored that. “The file that I was given is locked in the trunk of my car. But I’ll tell you right now, there’s not much in it.”

“Let’s take a look,” Drake said.

They all trooped down the hall and back downstairs to the lobby. Outside McCarson led them to an inexpensive rental parked at the curb. He opened the trunk, reached into a briefcase, and removed a file folder. He handed it to Drake.

“Knock yourself out,” McCarson said. “Can I go now?”

“Sure,” Drake said. “One more thing, though.”

“Now what?”

“When you tell Ethel Whitcomb that you’re off the case, you can tell her something else.”

“What’s that?” McCarson asked.

Drake looked at him. “Let her know that Ms. North has moved on with her life. Tomorrow she will be entering into a Marriage of Convenience with me.”

Alice opened her mouth on what he knew was going to be a shocked—make that horrified—protest. He moved his head ever so slightly, willing her to keep silent. Somewhat to his amazement, she closed her mouth again without uttering a word.

McCarson did not appear to notice the byplay. He just snorted and slammed the trunk of the car.

“I don’t know why you want to enter an MC with Ms. North, given her track record with husbands, but I assume you have your reasons. Good luck and watch your back is all I can say. Can I go now?”

“Yes,” Drake said. “But make certain the news of the marriage gets to Ethel Whitcomb.”

“No problem,” McCarson said.

He walked around to the driver’s-side door and got behind the wheel.

Alice stood beside Drake. He could tell she was seething. Together they watched McCarson’s car turn the corner and drive away into the night.

“What in the world was that all about?” Alice asked.

“I need you on Rainshadow. I do not need an endless series of investigators following you to the island and getting in my way.”

“I see.” She gave that a moment’s consideration. “You think that if Ethel believes that I’m in an MC with you she will back off on the stalking?”

“Ethel Whitcomb might be determined to carry on with her campaign of harassment, but she’s going to have a big problem finding private investigators who will agree to work for her once they find out that you’re married to me.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Alice blew out a long sigh. “I see where you’re going with this.”

“I’m fairly certain that common sense and a healthy survival instinct will convince ninety-nine out of a hundred PIs to decline her offer of a job. They’ll know what they’re going up against.”

“And the one who isn’t convinced?”

“We’ll know something important about him, whoever he is.”

“Which is?”

“That he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed.” Drake hesitated. “But this plan will only work if the marriage is for real.”

Alice’s brows shot up. “You’re suggesting we actually go through with an MC?”

“Ethel Whitcomb is bound to check, don’t you think?”

Alice groaned. “Probably. What happens if I accept your job offer and agree to an MC and we actually find those missing crystals?”

“After the business on Rainshadow is finished, I’ll take care of Ethel Whitcomb for you.”

Alice gave him a searching look. “Geez, you’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Consider it a bonus payment for helping us find the crystals.”

“Do you really think you can get Ethel out of my life for good?”

He smiled slowly. “Making problems like Ethel Whitcomb go away is what I do, Alice. You might say I’ve got a talent for it.”

She watched him with a thoughtful expression. “A paranormal talent?”

He shrugged.

“I think I believe you,” she said slowly. “But to be clear, there’s something I would rather you did for me in exchange for my help on Rainshadow.”

“Find out who really killed Fulton Whitcomb?”

“Yes.”

“Deal.”

She blinked. “You’re that sure you can do it?”

“Whitcomb’s death is tied to everything else that is happening on Rainshadow,” Drake said. “When we find those two missing crystals, we’ll find the killer.”

“Suddenly you’ve got my full attention.”

“You’ll come to Rainshadow with me?”

“You couldn’t keep me away, not now.”

“Good,” he said. “That leaves us with just one more issue to settle this evening.”

“What’s that?”

“Do I spend the night in my car or on your couch?”

She thought about that for a moment longer than he would have liked.

“I’ve accepted your offer of a job and an MC, so the least I can do is let you sleep on the couch,” she said.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet. The couch came with the apartment. It’s really old and lumpy. The springs are shot. Houdini likes to bounce on it.”