In Too Deep (34 page)

“Who, in turn, led them to Sylvia Tremont,” Isabella said, “who was busily selling off para-weapons from the Arcane museum basement. It must have been obvious that if she was already willing to risk stealing from Arcane, she was ripe for recruitment. Someone in Nightshade made her an offer.”

Fallon turned the glass between his palms. “Tremont was thrilled because her new business associate promised her a lab of her own and unlimited funding for her experiments in glass psi.”

“Yep.”

“Operating a state-of-the-art lab costs money. Sounds like at least one of the Nightshade circles is still going strong. We need to find it fast.”

“Any idea where to look?” Isabella asked.

“Maybe.”

“You never say maybe.”

“A connection to Portland, Oregon, came up not long ago when Jack Winters and Chloe Harper nearly got themselves killed in Seattle. One of the Nightshade people who died, a guy named John Stillwell Nash, was the
CEO
of a vitamin and health supplements company named Cascadia Dawn.”

“A company that sells supplements and vitamins would make an excellent cover for an illicit drug lab. Did you check it out?”

“I’ve had people watching it. A new
CEO
took over shortly after Nash died. She used another name, but I think she might have been Victoria Knight. Before that I think she was Niki Plumer.”

“Who was Niki Plumer?”

“A Nightshade operative. Figured in the case in which Zack and Raine were involved. She wound up in a psychiatric hospital. Supposedly she committed suicide but I’ve had my doubts.”

“You think she became Victoria Knight.”

“If I’m right, she’s the para-hypnotist who showed up in Las Vegas in the Burning Lamp case a few weeks ago. My talent tells me she was the new
CEO
of Cascadia Dawn. But the first thing she did was sell the company and disappear again.”

“Why sell it?”

“She probably realized that we were aware of the company. Also, she needs money. I think she sold a very profitable business, pocketed the cash and went somewhere else to fire up another circle. I’ve been waiting for her to pop up again. I believe she may have done just that.”

“That fits. I told you that Sylvia mentioned that her new business associate was a woman who thought I should be neutralized.”

“I realize it would have been very hard to poison you,” Fallon said. “You would have detected the bad energy in the vicinity of the stuff. But I am very grateful to Walker. I owe him.”

“We all do.”

“We lost Knight’s trail, but we know one thing for certain,” Fallon continued. “Like everything else that has happened in the Nightshade case, the weapons procurement operation was centered here on the West Coast. For whatever reason, the organization, or what’s left of it, appears to be based on this side of the country.”

“Maybe because this is where Craigmore established it?”

“That could be it,” Fallon said. “But I’m starting to wonder if perhaps it has something to do with the natural energy grids that run from Washington down through Oregon, California and Arizona. There aren’t many nexus points as strong as the Cove, at least not that have been mapped, but there are a number of vortex sites like those in Sedona. Maybe there’s one in Portland that hasn’t been charted.”

“You think Dr. Hulsey is trying to use the power of the grid to enhance the formula?”

“That’s how it feels. If I’m right, it narrows the scope of the search somewhat.”

“Lot of country between Washington and Arizona.”

“True. But over the years several of the hot spots have been mapped. And there are talents who are good at sensing nexus and vortex points. We might be able to construct a map of the most likely locations for a Nightshade lab.”

Isabella sipped some more whiskey and lowered the glass.

“Something happened today, when I put Tremont into the trance,” she said. “I don’t know how I did it, but I think that, just for a second, I tapped into the nexus energy in this area. I’m strong, but I’ve never felt anything like that before in my life. It was very strange.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time that a strong talent managed to pull some nexus energy. But it’s a very high-risk pastime. It’s like picking up a live electrical wire. The currents could short out your senses or even kill you. Promise me you won’t make a habit of it.”

A chill went through her at the memory. “You have my word on it,” she said. “What’s our next step?”

“If someone was running a research lab out of Cascadia Dawn, there has to be some trace of it left in the building. I’m going to send an agent inside to take a look around.”

“Who?”

“The same one who helped clean up things in Seattle a while back. He’s an illusion-talent. The guy’s as cold as ice, but he gets the job done. I’ve learned not to ask for details afterward, though.”

She glanced at him and smiled. In spite of the exhausting day, he looked energized. Sherlock Holmes with a bunch of new clues and leads to sort out.

“What do you think is going on inside Nightshade at this very moment?” she asked.

“My gut tells me that things have changed drastically at the top of the organization. The command structure fell apart after the founder died, and it has not yet had time to reconstitute itself. I’m not sure it can. I am finally beginning to perceive the outlines of the new version of the organization.”

“I take it that you’re not envisioning a kinder, gentler Nightshade?”

“No, I think that, for the time being, we’re going to find ourselves dealing with a handful of mini-Nightshades, each one operating independently.”

“Like a bunch of criminal gangs instead of one single mob?”

“Right.” Fallon took his feet off the coffee table. He leaned forward, forearms braced on his thighs and cradled his glass in both hands. His eyes gleamed with a familiar intensity. “Which means that there is a high probability of outright warfare between some of the gangs. We’re talking the usual corporate politics. There will be shifting alliances. There will be power grabs. Backstabbings. Betrayals.”

“You look like a kid who just got a big stack of birthday presents.”

His eyes heated with a little psi. She could almost hear the spark and snap of energy in the atmosphere.

“The infighting will work in our favor,” he said. “It will give us lots of cracks and fissures to exploit.”

“What about the formula? From what you’ve told me, whoever controls it, controls Nightshade.”

“The formula was being produced in a number of different locations before Craigmore was killed. From what we can tell, each lab functioned independently, conducting its own research on the original version of the drug.”

“All in an effort to deal with the side effects?”

“Yes. We took down five of the labs, but there are a few more out there that we haven’t found. We have to assume that the research is continuing and that new variations on the drug are in the pipeline. Some versions are no doubt more effective than others. Each drug producer will fight to keep its formula secret while trying to steal other, more effective versions.”

“So, in addition to the infighting, betrayals and backstabbings, we’ll be seeing some corporate espionage among the remaining circles.”

“We can work with that,” Fallon said. “Where there is espionage work to be had, there are any number of job openings available for double agents, traitors, thieves and spies.”

“And killers?”

“Yes,” Fallon said. He looked satisfied. “I think the illusion-talent in Seattle will fit right in.”

H
e woke up in Isabella’s double bed, aware that it was nowhere near dawn. He checked the glowing dial of his watch. Two in the morning. Isabella was neatly tucked into the curve of his body. He was suddenly, fully aroused.

He eased one hand under the hem of her nightgown and moved his palm upward over her warm thigh. Levering himself up on his elbow, he kissed her shoulder.

“Are you awake?” he asked.

“No.”

He slid his fingers between her legs. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay,” he said. “I just wondered.”

He pressed himself against her soft rear, nibbled on her earlobe and started to tease her lightly with his fingers.

She sighed and turned onto her back. He felt energy heighten in the shadows. When he jacked up his senses, he saw the gentle heat in her eyes. She put her arms around his neck.

“I’m awake now,” she said.

“So am I.”

“I noticed.”

He moved over her, capturing her beneath him, and kissed her. With a soft, languid whisper, she opened for him, inviting him into her warmth. He made love to her, slowly, deliberately, until she was hot and shivery in his arms, until he sensed the escalating tension deep inside her. Only then did he thrust into her.

“Fallon.”

She came almost immediately and so did he.

When it was over, he withdrew reluctantly and fell back onto the pillow beside her. Reaching down between them he found her hand and clasped it. He waited until both of them were breathing normally again.

“Tomorrow we’ll drive up the coast to Eclipse Bay and find your grandmother,” he said.

“You’re sure she’s there?”

“Yes,” he said. “It’s all right to contact her now. You can call her in the morning. She’s no longer in any danger.”

“Thanks to J&J.”

He looked up at the ceiling, intensely aware of her hand in his. “You’re safe now, too.”

“Yes.”

“You can go anywhere,” he said. “You don’t have to hide out in Scargill Cove.”

“I’m not hiding, not anymore. I’ve spent my entire life on the outside looking through the windows of people who actually have lives. Now I’ve got one of my own and I’m going to live it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Scargill Cove feels like home,” she said. “Interesting job. Nice neighbors. I think I was cut out for small-town living.”

“You’re sure you like the job?”

“I was born for it,” she said.

“That’s good because I need you to help me do this work.”

“I agree.”

“Marry me, Isabella.”

She did not respond.

The unquenchable fires of chaos froze. Time stopped. Maybe his heart stopped, as well. He discovered he could not breathe, did not want to breathe, if he did not get the right answer.

“You don’t have to marry me to keep me at my desk at J&J,” Isabella said eventually. “I’ll stay with you.”

“I’m a Jones. In my family we get married. Ceremony, license, the whole works.”

“Interesting customs in your family. We don’t do the license thing in mine.”

“I’m hoping you’ll adopt my family traditions, but if you don’t want to do that, I’ll take you any way I can get you.”

“I think I could adopt your customs if you think you can go along with one of my family traditions.”

“I’ll do anything for you,” he said simply. “Name it.”

“In my family we fall in love. Can you love me? Because I love you, Fallon Jones, with all of my heart.”

The glorious fires of chaos flared high once more. Time went forward. His pulse restarted. He could breathe again.

“Isabella
.
”
He pulled her into his arms, crushing her to him. “I will love you for the rest of my life and whatever comes after.”

“In that case,” she said, “I will be happy to break a few old family traditions and marry you. In fact, to prove how much I love you, I’ll even use my real name on the wedding license.”

He laughed, the energy of joy pouring through him in a torrent. And then he was kissing her and she was kissing him and the night was on fire.

THE
NEWS
of the death was in the Willow Creek paper the following morning. Fallon read it to Isabella over coffee.

bq.
bq.
bq.
The unidentified body of a man was found shot to death in a concealed marijuana plantation early this morning. Authorities believe the man either wandered into the plantation by accident or went there deliberately to steal some of the plants. It is believed that he was killed by guards hired to protect the crop.

bq.
bq.
bq.
A representative of the sheriff’s department said that the marijuana will be destroyed. The growers have been declared persons of interest. Anyone having any information about those responsible for the plantation is asked to contact the authorities.

“I told him to get lost,” Isabella said. “He blundered into someone’s hidden marijuana plantation and got shot.”

“If it’s any consolation, he probably wouldn’t have lasted long, anyway,” Fallon said. “Not if he was on the drug. The latest information we have indicates that those who take it must take a dose twice a day, every day. Miss even a single dose and the senses start to deteriorate. Insanity and death usually follow within forty-eight hours.”

“Yes, I know,” Isabella said.

“But it doesn’t make you feel any better.”

“No,” she said.

I
t had been a very bad week.

Victoria Knight took her glass of wine out onto the balcony of her condo to drink. The lights of Seattle glittered in the rain.

A very bad week.

Two well-conceived projects had floundered. It was true that the one involving Carolyn Austin had been chancy from the start. The odds had been stacked against success, Victoria thought, but when her new associate within Arcane had suggested the idea, she had thought it worth a shot. The opportunity to weaken J&J and, perhaps, loosen the grip of the Jones family on the Society had been irresistible. They had sought to harness the raw energy of a grieving mother driven by an obsessive desire for revenge and it had almost worked. Almost.

The second project had been far more elaborately designed and carried out. It definitely should have been successful. Victoria’s fingers tightened on the delicate stem of the glass. The concept of developing a para-weapons lab based on Bridewell’s inventions had been brilliant.
It should have worked
.

Both projects had floundered because of Isabella Valdez and, it seemed, the very town of Scargill Cove. Something about Isabella’s energy made her formidable. It was a shame that Sylvia Tremont had been unsuccessful in the attempt to introduce the poison into Isabella’s kitchen. But that had been another long shot.