“I used to do some work for a federal agency,” Judson said.
“Oh, yeah, right, the Post Office. I keep forgetting.”
“Finding that account info wasn’t easy, let me tell you. There were dogs. Big dogs.”
“Chained?”
“Nope, loose inside the house.”
“How’d you get past ’em?” There was professional interest in Nick’s voice now. “Dogs can be a real problem.”
“I had help,” Judson admitted. “I went over to Poole’s place with a bag of kibble and Nicole Hudson. She’s the one who fed the dogs whenever Poole went out of town on one of his contract jobs. The mutts know her, and they love her. In fact, she’s going to adopt them now that Poole is no longer around.”
“Did this Nicole know what Poole was doing when he went out of town?”
“No. Tell me about the account.”
“We found it right quick after you gave us the number and the password,” Nick said.
“But?”
“But it was closed.”
Judson stopped in the middle of the room. “Are you sure?”
“When it comes to large sums of anonymous cash, I pay close attention,” Nick said. “So does your mother.”
“I don’t doubt that. Go on.”
“Poole’s offshore account was emptied quite recently.”
“He must have known we were onto him,” Judson said. “Maybe he moved the money as a precaution.”
“Not unless he did it from beyond the grave.”
“Don’t tell me—”
“That account was closed about forty minutes after Poole had his unfortunate encounter with a sharp object this morning.”
“Shit.”
“Whatever. According to the timeline that you gave me, Poole suffered his lethal accident in the floral shop at approximately two a.m. The account was closed shortly thereafter. So, it looks to us like maybe—”
“Like maybe there’s someone else involved in this thing.” Judson headed for the door. “Someone who not only knew about the offshore account but also knew that it was time to move on.”
“Whoever he is, in addition to being very, very good on a computer, he must have his finger on the pulse of what’s happening there in Wilby,” Nick said.
“He sure as hell does. The bastard has a front-row seat.”
Judson yanked open the door and went swiftly out into the hall. Max vaulted from the bed to the floor and dashed after him.
“You’re on your own, cat,” Judson said.
Max stuck like glue.
Judson opened the stairwell door and started down. Max followed on his heels.
“Are you in a stairwell?” Nick asked. “There’s this hollow sound.”
“I’m using the emergency stairs. This explains why I didn’t find Evelyn’s computer or that damn camera at Poole’s house this morning.” Judson gripped the railing and leaped down the next flight of steps. Max bounded after him. “I’ll talk to you later. Call the Wilby 911 number and tell the operator to get someone out to the old lodge immediately. Tell her there’s another murder about to take place.”
“What’s going on?”
“Gwen left a few minutes ago. She’s on her way to meet Sundew. And she’s alone.”
Forty-two
Gwen pulled into the driveway of the old lodge. It was not raining, but the gray skies were growing darker and more ominous by the minute. Wesley Lancaster’s rental car was parked under the shelter of the peaked roof at the front entrance. She stopped directly behind him.
His extraordinarily generous offer to buy the lodge to use as a set for his new series had come as a surprise that morning, but the more she thought about it, the more interesting the idea became. The large sum of money would do wonders for her precarious finances while she set up her psychic investigation business.
Wesley was not waiting for her inside his car as she had expected. There was no sign of him lounging impatiently in the entryway, either. It occurred to her that to kill time he had walked around the lodge building to get a closer look at the falls.
She took the code out of her tote and started to key it into the high-tech lock. Belatedly, she realized that the door was unlocked.
She pushed open the heavy steel door.
“Wesley? How in the world did you get the code for the door?”
There was no response from the heavily shadowed interior of the lab. She walked into the energy-infused darkness. The familiar buzz stirred her senses.
The low floor lights came up, illuminating a section around her feet.
She set the tote down on a nearby table and turned to search the shadows. Despite the illumination in the middle of the space, she did not see anyone silhouetted against the glow. She moved forward.
“Wesley? Are you there?”
She saw the body on the floor when she reached the intersection of two aisles. The Viking blond hair was unmistakable.
“Wesley.”
She rushed toward the figure, her senses flaring. Relief flashed through her when she saw Wesley’s aura. He was not dead, but she could tell that he was not in a normal sleep state. He was unconscious.
She crouched beside him, searching for signs of an injury. The sound of the dead bolt of the front door lock sliding home sent a flood tide of fear through her.
It was only then that she realized the floor lights at the front of the lab were still illuminated.
A familiar voice spoke from the shadows.
“You know,” Riley Duncan said, “I gotta thank you and Coppersmith for coming up with a great endgame. I was getting bored with the whole psychic chat room thing. Finding clients for Poole was way too easy.”
Her first thought was that Riley didn’t look like a killer. He looked like what he was—the front desk clerk at the inn. Then she saw the weak light gleam on the barrel of his gun.
“But you didn’t know how to get out of the game, did you?” she said. Instinctively she stayed crouched on the floor next to the unconscious Wesley, trying to make herself as small a target as possible. “After all, Poole was a professional hit man. He killed people for a living, and he did it by paranormal means. He was dangerous.”
“Let’s just say, I knew that I would have to be real sure of success on the first attempt. Figured I had time. Besides, as long as Poole was working, his offshore account was getting bigger and bigger. Then he told me that Ballinger was onto us. Said he had to get rid of her. Next thing I know, you show up. I knew right away that you thought Ballinger had been murdered.”
“Poole knew that as well.”
“Yeah, but we didn’t worry about it too much until Coppersmith arrived. That’s when I did some research online and found out that he might be a problem. That’s when Poole decided he’d have to cut his losses and get rid of Louise.”
“She was the last one who could connect him to the contract killings.”
“There was no way to know how much the old witch really knew or even if anyone would ever believe her if she did talk. But Poole was a real detail guy when it came to his work.”
“Besides, by then he knew that he would probably be able to find a replacement for Louise in Evelyn’s old Summerlight files,” Gwen said.
“You know about those files, huh?” Riley chuckled. “Wow. Didn’t see that coming. Nicely played. But I get bonus points because I’m the one who hacked into Evelyn’s computer and found those old files. When Poole took the computer that night, he was just trying to cover his tracks. I’m the one who recognized those records for the gold mine that they are. Between you and me, Poole was not exactly a wizard when it came to technology.”
“You’re the one who ran the psychic chat room, aren’t you? You’re Sundew.”
“Bonus points for you. I’m impressed. You and Coppersmith are much farther along than I realized.”
A rush of knowing stirred Gwen’s senses. “Zander Taylor was not Buddy Poole’s only son, was he?”
“Nope. Zander an
d I were half brothers. Different mothers, same father. Dad slept with a lot of women when he was running that cult.”
“How did he find you and Zander?’
“He didn’t even know we existed. I found Poole. Got curious a few years ago and went looking for possible siblings. I located Zander. He was a budding serial killer at the time. I helped him turn his little hobby into a more challenging game. I pointed out that he needed to be more selective when it came to choosing his targets. I convinced him that it would be more fun for both of us if he hunted others like himself, people with genuine talent. Of course, in those days, he didn’t have the crystal so he whacked people in a more traditional way. He loved poison because it left no trace and because it always took a while for the downers to croak. That’s what he called ’em.”
“Downers?”
“Yeah, like those downer cows in the stockyards. The ones sick with that mad cow disease.”
“I can tell the two of you really bonded,” Gwen said. “How did you both end up here in Wilby?”
“Zander had what you might call a sentimental streak. He knew that I had found him, so he asked me to see if I could track down his mother. Took a while because Poole had pretty well erased her trail after he brought her here to Wilby. But three years ago I found the old witch. Imagine our surprise when Zander and I discovered that good old dad was living here, too.”
“That must have been a touching reunion.”
“Poole was a little concerned when we first introduced ourselves, but as soon as he found out that we knew all about his murder-for-hire business and that we shared his taste for the game, he immediately saw the possibilities. I’m the one who came up with the Sundew chat room concept. I transitioned him from his old-school business model into a state-of-the-art firm. Crazy Louise, on the other hand, was convinced that her one and only son, Zander, was in great danger from what she called his demon father.”
“She gave Zander one of the crystal weapons so that he could protect himself.”
“Well, that, too, but mostly I think she hoped that Zander would whack dear old dad. But Zander was a gamer to the core. Naturally, he started using the crystal in his hunt-the-psychic game. Then, about a year later, Ballinger fired up her study, and the first thing you know, she’s rounded up a whole flock of real talents. Zander went a little nuts.”
“He volunteered for the study. And then he started killing the people in it.”
“Couldn’t help himself, I guess.” Riley grunted. “It was like putting a fox in with a bunch of chickens. Poole and I both got real worried, I can tell you. The whole business was in jeopardy. Oxley may not buy into the paranormal, but he’s not stupid.”
“Too many mysterious deaths in one small town would get any cop’s attention,” Gwen said.
“Zander had the sense to make you look good for the first two deaths, but how long could that go on? Poole concluded that Zander was out of control and would have to disappear.”
“But Zander went over the falls first,” Gwen said.
“Problem solved. The timing could not have been better. Poole was very relieved, I can tell you. So was I. But neither of us could figure out what had happened that day out here at the falls. Just couldn’t picture Zander a suicide.”
“Still, it was convenient for you both that Zander was gone.”
“Oh, yeah. We gave it a rest for a few months, and then we went back to business as usual.”
“Until Evelyn tumbled onto what was going on when Poole left town to attend the crafts fairs. Now Poole is dead, and you’re the one who is trying to clean up.”
“Poole was not much of a father, but he taught me a few things during the past three years,” Riley said, “the most important of which is to pay attention to the details.”
“Why did you hurt Wesley? He wasn’t involved in this.”
“I needed Lancaster to get you out here this morning so I sent you that e-mail from his address, making you an offer I knew you couldn’t turn down. When you took the bait, I got him out here first with a phone call. I told him that you had asked me to pass along a message for you. Something about wanting to meet you out here to talk about his offer. He didn’t ask any questions, believe me.”
“How do you expect to explain my death?” Gwen asked.
“It will look like you and Wesley quarreled over the future of the lab. Everyone in town knows that he wanted to use this place as a set for his pathetic TV series. They also know that you two had a history. It all adds up to a motive for murder.”
“You’re going to kill me and frame Wesley?”
“Thought about using Coppersmith, but to tell you the truth, that guy makes me nervous,” Riley admitted.
“Want some free psychic counseling advice? That’s your intuition pinging you. Pay attention.”
“Don’t worry, I’m paying attention,” Riley said. “After realizing that he somehow managed to whack Poole last night even though the crystal was still fully functional, I knew it would be way too risky to try to use Coppersmith in this game scenario. I’d sure like to know how he survived the crystal, though. Poole had a lot of experience with that gadget.”
“I’ll bet Judson would be happy to explain to you just how he survived.”
Riley snorted, amused. “You’ve got a sense of humor, I’ll give you that. There’s one thing I’d like to know before we end this game.”
“You want to know how and why Zander Taylor went over the falls two years ago.”
“How’d you guess?”
She moved one hand in a slight motion. “I can see it in your aura.”
“Bullshit.”
“You’re hooked on your game of uncovering other people’s secrets and using those secrets against them,” Gwen said. “It’s a real power trip. That’s what drives you. It’s right there in your energy field. It has been all along. I knew about your addiction problem, but I didn’t put it together until now because I didn’t have context.”
“It’s not an addiction. I’m not like Zander. He was crazy.”
“Of course you’re addicted. You couldn’t quit now if you tried.”
Riley smirked. “There’s no reason to quit.”
“Well, actually there are some very good reasons to quit but none that a wack-job like you would comprehend. So, do you want to know what happened there at the end when your brother went over the falls?”
“Tell me.” There was a sudden burst of hungry urgency in Riley’s voice.
“I’ll do better than that. I’ll show you just how he screwed up.”
Riley snickered. “You’re trying to buy time. This is the fun part. You’re hoping Coppersmith will come to the rescue. Who knows? Maybe he will. That’s the thing about a really good game. There’s always a twist. Okay, we’ll play it your way. Show me what happened to Zander.”
“He saw a ghost, a couple of them, actually. He went a little crazy. Ran out the rear door and kept going, straight into the river and over the falls.”
“Is that the best you can do?” Riley raised the barrel of the gun. “Too bad. I was hoping for a more interesting ending, but if some crappy story about ghosts is all you’ve got, we might as well end this now.”
“I can show you what Zander saw. This place really is haunted, you see. The ghosts manifest in the mirror engine.”
“Are you talking about that bunch of old mirrors at the back of the lab?”
“That’s right.”
“There aren’t any ghosts.”
“Sure there are,” Gwen said. “But it takes talent to raise them in the mirrors.”
“Your kind of talent?”
“That’s right.”
Riley was clearly skeptical, but the energy in his aura throbbed with the need to get answers.
“If you kill me now, you’ll never know what really happened at the end of Zander’s last game,” Gwen said softly.
“Show me.”
She held her breath when she turned her back on him and started towa
rd the rear of the old lodge. Everything depended on how accurately she had read his aura.
The bullet in the back did not come. She heard Riley’s footsteps echoing on the concrete floor as he stalked her deeper into the maze of workbenches. The strips of automatic lights illuminated and then went dark as they moved through various sections of the lab. She was intensely aware of the hot energy in the atmosphere.
“This place is so weird,” Riley said.
“How often have you been inside?”
“Couple of times. Always thought the place was just a big junkyard full of Ballinger’s crazy test instruments.”
“I’ll bet you’ve never gone into the mirror engine.”
“No reason to go inside,” Riley said.
“There was a reason. You just didn’t know about it. The engine is where Evelyn hid some of her secrets. That’s how I found out that your father was still in business.”
“You’re lying. Why would Ballinger hide her secrets in this old lab? People keep their secrets on their computers.”
“Not always. This may come as a shock to you, Riley, but not everyone trusts computers.”
She stopped at the entrance to the mirror engine. In the darkness, the energy locked in the silvered glass seethed and burned. She had no idea how the trapped currents appeared to Riley, but she knew that they were affecting him. He was already aroused by the game he was playing, but under the influence of the engine, his excitement flared higher.
“What’s going on?” Riley kept the gun aimed at Gwen, but his attention was on the sparking, flashing mirrors. His growing intoxication blazed in his aura—a junkie sensing a dazzling fix.
“The mirrors are arranged in a specific way to make them work as an engine,” Gwen said. “Ever been inside a maze?”
“Sure. Mazes are simple for someone with my talent.”
“I doubt if you can get far inside this one. Zander couldn’t. He took a few steps in and that’s when he started screaming about the ghosts.”
“Zander wasn’t as strong as I am. With my talent, I know I could go into this thing.”
“I doubt it.”
“What’s at the center?” Riley asked.
“A collection of incredibly valuable paranormal crystals,” Gwen lied softly. “They’re the fuel source for the engine.”