Read Silver Master Page 8


  You’re in deep trouble. Just get her upstairs and get the hell out of here before you do something that will really screw things up.

  Betty Furnell’s door popped open when they entered the downstairs hall. Betty looked out, beaming.

  “Oh, hello there, you two,” she sang out cheerfully. “Did you have a nice evening?”

  “Lovely,” Celinda said.

  “Gracious, what happened to your dress, dear?”

  “There was a slight accident,” Celinda said.

  “It’s ruined.”

  “Yes,” Celinda agreed, “I’m afraid it is. Good night, Mrs. Furnell.”

  “Good night. Sleep tight.” Betty closed the door with obvious reluctance.

  “Be prepared to be cornered again when you go back downstairs,” Celinda warned softly.

  “I’ll be ready,” he promised.

  He walked her upstairs to her apartment door and waited while she dug out her key.

  “I hope Araminta is home,” she said.

  “If not, I’m sure she’ll return by dawn. When Max takes off, he’s always back for breakfast.”

  He took the key from her, rezzed the lock, and opened the door.

  Celinda stepped into the hall. And stopped, stiffening.

  “I’ve been burglarized.”

  He looked past her into the small space. The two drawers in the hall table had been removed, the contents dumped on the floor. From where he was standing, he could see a portion of the living room. The sofa and chairs were overturned. Damp night air wafted in from the open balcony door. The point of entry for the intruders, Davis thought.

  “My stuff,” Celinda wailed. She started to rush into the apartment.

  Davis grabbed her arm. “Hold it. You’re not going in until I make certain there’s no one else inside.”

  “But—”

  “This is what I do, remember? I keep telling you, I’m in the security business.” He moved into the hall. “Wait here.”

  “I hesitate to interfere with a professional doing his job, but what, exactly, are you going to do if the guy has a gun?”

  “I’ll show him mine.” Davis leaned down and drew the small pistol out of his ankle holster.

  Celinda looked at the weapon with an enigmatic expression. “That looks like a mini mag-rez.”

  “It is. Latest and greatest technology.”

  “It’s illegal for private citizens to own mag-rezes,” she said very primly.

  “Yeah, I’ve heard that.”

  He moved into the apartment and made a quick, thorough survey and then went back to the front door.

  “All clear,” he said. “Looks like they came and went through the balcony door.”

  “Oh, dear, the dress.”

  He went blank. “What dress?”

  “My bridesmaid dress,” she said, slipping past him. “If the burglars stole it or destroyed it, I’m doomed. Rachel will never forgive me if I don’t show up with that dress.”

  “Fancy pink thing covered in plastic? I saw it when I checked the closet. Looked fine to me.”

  “I’ve got to be sure.”

  She rushed down the hall to the bedroom.

  Something didn’t add up, he decided. She didn’t even like the pink dress. Why all the fuss?

  Intrigued, he watched the mirror above the hall table. From this angle he could see her hurrying into the bedroom. She didn’t go to the closet. Instead, she went down on her knees and peered under the bed.

  Davis went on into the living room and started righting the furniture.

  Celinda returned a short time later, noticeably calmer.

  “Dress okay?” he asked politely.

  “Yes, it’s fine,” she said. “I’ve got to call the police.” She picked up the phone.

  “Forget it.”

  “What do you mean?” She stopped, whipping around to face him. “I know the cops probably won’t be able to do much. I’ve heard that when it comes to home burglaries, there’s not a lot they can do. But I should at least file a report.”

  “Celinda,” he said wearily, “the reason you’re not going to call the cops is because this is Guild business.”

  Very slowly she replaced the receiver.

  “Damn,” she whispered. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”

  Chapter 9

  “OKAY,” SHE SAID, SINKING DOWN ONTO ONE OF THE kitchen stools, “I agree, this break-in on top of that bizarre scene in the lane with that man in the cap is probably not a coincidence.”

  Davis had removed his jacket and was methodically straightening the room.

  “No, it isn’t,” he said. “Someone is looking for the relic.”

  Glumly she watched him right an armchair. “I still don’t understand why we can’t call the cops.”

  “Because they aren’t very good at handling this kind of thing.” He picked up a small drawer and put it back into the end table beside the chair. “They’ll treat this as just another routine break-in, and that won’t get us anywhere. Also, they don’t have the manpower to provide you with twenty-four-hour security, which is what you’re going to need.”

  Shock rolled through her. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about a bodyguard.”

  She stared at him, feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of her.

  Her new career was doomed. Mrs. Takahashi had been very understanding about the fiasco in Frequency City, but she would almost certainly draw the line at one of her marriage consultants showing up for work with a bodyguard. To say nothing of the wedding, she thought. Another wave of alarm hit her. Dear heaven, her family would be horrified if they found out that the Cadence Guild had thought it necessary to supply her with a bodyguard.

  “That’s…that’s impossible,” she managed.

  Davis swept out one hand to indicate the vandalized apartment. “Whoever did this obviously knows that you were the last person to have the relic in your possession. We have to assume that you are in some danger until we get the thing back.”

  “But that might be never. There’s no telling what Araminta did with it.”

  “I think we can count on Araminta showing up with that damn artifact sooner or later.”

  She folded her arms very tightly beneath her breasts, hugging herself. “Just long enough for me to lose my job.”

  “The Guild will see to it that you aren’t fired.”

  She shuddered. “Don’t even think about asking Mercer Wyatt to make a phone call to Mrs. Takahashi. The last thing I want is for her to keep me on the payroll because Wyatt threatened her. It would be utterly humiliating.”

  “He’s not a mob boss, Celinda.”

  “Okay, so maybe the Cadence Guild isn’t into the traditional gang businesses like drugs and prostitution. That doesn’t make it an upstanding, respectable business corporation.”

  He was starting to get irritated. “You’ve really got a thing about the Guilds, don’t you?”

  “Yes.” She unfolded her arms and gripped the edge of the stool seat on either side of her hips. “And there’s something else. I’m leaving town tomorrow for a couple of days. I told you, I have to be in my sister’s wedding. I’ll be taking Araminta with me, assuming she ever shows up again.”

  “With any luck, she’ll bring that relic back by morning.”

  “But what if she doesn’t? I can’t go to my sister’s wedding with a bodyguard. How will I explain that to my family? They’ll panic if they think my life is in danger.”

  “Your bodyguard will be male.” Davis took out his personal phone. “You can tell everyone he’s your date for the wedding.”

  “My date. Are you crazy?”

  “If your family is anything like mine, they’ll be thrilled that you’re not alone.”

  “You don’t understand.” She was getting desperate now. “My life back in Frequency got a little complicated before I left town. I can’t just arrive with a strange man in tow. There will be questions. Lots of them. Ev
eryone will wonder why I haven’t mentioned him during the past four months.”

  “New job here in Cadence. New boyfriend. No big deal.”

  “It is a big deal,” she shot back. “At least it is for me.”

  “There’s a good chance that you’re in real danger here, Celinda,” he said quietly. “Are you willing to risk your neck just to avoid a little social awkwardness at the wedding?”

  She caught her lip between her teeth and then sighed. “Well, when you put it like that—”

  “That’s exactly how I’m putting it. I’m also betting you’re too smart to argue about this any more tonight.”

  She frowned. “Where does one get a bodyguard, anyway?”

  “From a topflight investigative agency like Oakes Security.”

  “Oh.” She thought about that. “Bodyguards are probably expensive.”

  “They are if they come from Oakes. But don’t worry about the cost. The Guild will pick up the tab.”

  “Damn. Just what I need, another Guild connection.”

  He punched out a number on the phone. “You know, it’s a good thing I’m such an easygoing, open-minded kind of guy. Otherwise I might start to take offense at all these swipes at the Guild.”

  “I thought you said you weren’t a Guild man?”

  “I’m not. But I come from a fourth-generation Guild family. I’ve got my loyalties.” He broke off to speak into the phone. “Trig. Wake up. I need a babysitter to look after a friend tonight while I crash.”

  There was a short pause.

  “No.” He turned away to speak into the phone. “I didn’t burn a lot of silver, but it was a dopp ghost. I ended up melting a little amber. It’s just the usual postburn thing. I’ll tell you the whole story when you get here, assuming I can stay awake. If I’m out, the client will explain.”

  There was another short pause. Davis looked back over his shoulder at Celinda with an unreadable expression. “Right. She’s a client now. But we’ll be billing the Guild for all expenses.”

  He ended the call and dropped the phone into the pocket of his trousers.

  “I assume this Trig person is going to be my bodyguard?” she asked warily.

  “Just for tonight.” Davis yawned and rubbed the back of his neck. “Someone else will take over tomorrow and stay with you until the case is concluded.”

  “Who?”

  “Me.”

  She was still dealing with that announcement when the doorbell rezzed a short time later. Davis answered it. When he opened the door she saw a short, stocky man with a shaved head. Elaborate tattoos decorated the thick arms exposed by a black T-shirt. He looked like he could juggle large vehicles without breaking a sweat.

  “This is Trig McAndrews,” Davis said.

  Trig nodded politely. “Miss Ingram.”

  “Mr. McAndrews.”

  He grinned. “Call me Trig.”

  “All right.” She inclined her head. What did one say to a bodyguard? “Would you like some coffee?”

  He gave her a smile that lit up the room. “That sounds like a truly splendid idea, ma’am.”

  It also gave her something constructive to do. She slid off the stool and went around the counter into the small kitchen.

  While she made the coffee, she listened to Davis give Trig a brief rundown on what had happened. The part that sent a little chill down her spine was the bit about how Davis had been forced to melt amber in order to deal with the twin ghosts. Everyone knew that amber didn’t actually melt when someone pushed too much para-resonating psi energy through it, but it did lose its delicate tuning if it was overused. The thing was, the vast majority of people couldn’t generate enough paranormal energy to melt amber. Only someone with a lot of power could do it.

  Whatever else he was, Davis was a very strong psi talent. But, then, she already knew that, she reminded herself.

  “Tomorrow I’m going to escort Miss Ingram to Frequency for a wedding,” Davis concluded. “While we’re gone, I want you to see what you can find out about a para-rez who can pull a dopp aboveground. Can’t be that many of them running around.”

  “He shouldn’t be too hard to find,” Trig agreed. “Guy like that probably has some past connection to the Guild. Wyatt’s people will help. You know what they say: The Guild polices its own.”

  “Hah.” Celinda did not look up from spooning coffee into a pot.

  “Miss Ingram is not what you’d call pro-Guild,” Davis explained.

  “Yeah, I got that impression.” Trig didn’t sound the least bit offended. “Not like she’s the only one who has a few doubts about the sterling qualities of the organizations.”

  Celinda rezzed the coffeemaker and turned around. “But I’ll bet the Guilds make excellent clients, right?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Trig said cheerfully. “They pay right on time, and their checks always clear. We at Oakes Security take that sort of thing real seriously.”

  “I guess a client is a client,” she admitted. “I can’t say that I haven’t had a few in my time whose chief redeeming quality was the fact that their checks cleared.” She surveyed her tiny living room. “Where’s everyone going to sleep?”

  “Don’t know about the rest of you,” Davis said, dropping heavily onto the edge of the sofa. “But I’m sleeping right here.” He reached down to take off his shoes.

  He looked as if he was holding himself together through sheer willpower, Celinda thought. But, then, he had a lot of that. Maybe more than was good for him.

  On impulse, she went around the counter and down the short hall to the linen closet. “I’ll get you a pillow and a blanket.”

  When she returned to the living room, pillow and blanket in her arms, Davis seemed vaguely surprised but not ungrateful.

  “Thanks.” His voice was low and drowsy with the rush of oncoming sleep.

  He took the pillow from her, turned on his side, and closed his eyes.

  Celinda waited a couple of seconds. When she realized that he was already sound asleep, she unfolded the blanket and covered him with it.

  She turned to find Trig watching her with a carefully veiled expression. The room seemed suddenly very quiet.

  “Does he do this a lot?” she asked, for want of anything else to say.

  “Run up against a doppelganger ghost and melt amber? Nope, can’t say that’s a real common occurrence for the boss.” Trig hesitated. “But he’s had his share of unusual cases. Guess you could say that’s our specialty at Oakes Security.”

  “Unusual cases?”

  Trig nodded. “That’s why Mercer Wyatt called us in on this one. He thinks there’s something weird about that relic that went missing, and Oakes Security does weird.”

  She saw an opening and seized it.

  “Davis said that he was from a Guild family and that he’s a hunter of sorts.” She kept her tone very casual.

  “Right.”

  “He told me that he doesn’t pull ghost light from the usual point on the spectrum.”

  “He said that much, did he?” Trig looked impressed. “That’s more than he tells most people.”

  “I didn’t realize that there were different kinds of ghost light.”

  Trig lifted massive shoulders in a shrug. “Very few people realize that there’s a wide spectrum of dissonance energy leaking out of the catacombs. But most hunters can only work the green stuff.”

  “He also told me that he was never employed as a regular ghost hunter.”

  “Ghost hunters tend to be real traditional,” Trig said. “Hunters who don’t work standard ghost light make other hunters nervous underground.”

  “So, Davis went into the PI business, instead.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  She got the feeling that pushing Trig wasn’t going to gain her any more information, so she reluctantly dropped the subject. “I have another extra blanket and pillow you can use.”

  “Don’t worry about me, Miss Ingram. I won’t be sleeping tonight.” He held up a book. “Brought so
me reading material with me. With this and some coffee, I’ll be fine.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yep.”

  She looked at the book. “What are you reading?”

  “Espindoza’s History of the Era of Discord. I’m on the last volume. Almost finished.”

  She tried not to show her surprise. “I see.”

  He smiled benignly. “I know, heavy reading for a guy like me, but I’m managing to wade through it.”

  She grinned. “You’re doing better than I did. I never got past volume one.” She looked at Davis. “He’ll be okay?”

  “Sure. Just the normal burn-and-crash thing. He’ll wake up in a few hours feeling good as new.”

  SHE TUMBLED INTO BED A SHORT TIME LATER AND GAZED out the window into the night. She hadn’t slept well in four months, but tonight she had a whole bunch of new anxieties to keep her awake. A Guild relic had gone missing and everyone involved held her more or less responsible. There were not one but two men spending the night in her apartment. She had a date for her sister’s wedding that was going to take some explaining, and Araminta was out there somewhere in the night running around with a stranger she had only just met.

  Sleep was going to be even more elusive than usual tonight.

  Chapter 10

  ARAMINTA AND MAX RETURNED SHORTLY BEFORE DAWN. The sound of the sliding glass door being opened woke Davis. He watched Trig let the dust bunnies into the apartment.

  “Any sign of the relic?” he asked.

  “Afraid not,” Trig said.

  “Damn. Guess that would have been too easy.”

  Max tumbled across the floor to greet him. Araminta drifted down the hall in the direction of Celinda’s bedroom.

  Trig stretched. “You need me any longer, boss?”

  “No, I can take it from here.” Davis sat up and discovered that there was a blanket covering him.

  “Miss Ingram put it over you after you conked out last night,” Trig said.

  “Huh.” The thought of Celinda bending over him in what must have been a fairly solicitous manner, ensuring that he didn’t get cold during the night, made him feel much better than he had a moment ago.