Authors: Jayne Castle
Rafe shrugged. “It was just lying there on the floor. I picked it up and put it in my pocket.”
Alarm flashed through Orchid, temporarily taking her mind off her nausea. “Listen, that thing really works. It was so strong that when I reversed the focus, Dr. Brace-well's hypno-talent turned back on itself.”
“I know. You woke up a couple of times on the way to the hospital. Told me all about it.”
“Did I?” She frowned, unable to recall anything after falling asleep in his arms. “At any rate, Bracewell actually killed himself because of that thing. It's very powerful. And very dangerous.”
“Not anymore. Whatever you did to it when you reversed the flow of energy through it burned it out.”
She searched his face. “How do you know that?”
“I took it to Brizo. Told him what it might be capable
of doing. He called in an ice-prism on staff at another lab. They conducted several tests.”
“And?”
“There's no trace of any power left in the relic. Brizo's theory is that it was never designed to work with human psychic energy. He suspects that in the few minutes it was activated, the combination of your paranormal power and Bracewell's talent destroyed the mechanism.”
“That's a relief.” Orchid relaxed back against the pillows. “But what if there are other artifacts that also retained some power?”
“Brizo thinks it's highly unlikely. His experts are convinced that the only reason that particular relic still had a trace of energy left was because it was frozen in jelly-ice for a thousand years. They think the ice somehow preserved some of the fuel in the relic. Whatever it is, it's gone now.”
“I hope he's right.”
“Just in case, Brizo is going to see to it that security around the artifacts is increased. From now on everything will be tested with the help of ice-prisms.”
Orchid brightened. “That will certainly drive up ice-prism focus salaries.”
The door slammed open. Rafe winced. He turned to see Clementine Malone stride into the room. She waved a copy of the
New Seattle Times.
“They got it wrong,” Clementine bellowed. “Again. I can't believe it. Where do reporters go to school, anyhow? I've got a call in to the front page editor of the
Times.
This kind of screw-up is excusable once, but not twice.”
“What did the paper get wrong?” Orchid asked.
“The idiot who wrote the story says that you're a
marriage
agency date from Psynergy, Inc. This is the second time he's made that mistake. I told him the last time that we aren't a matchmaking agency. We're a focus agency.”
“Things were still a bit confused last night when the journalists arrived on the scene,” Rafe said.
“Hell, maybe you ought to call the
Times
yourself.” Clementine scowled. “You probably want this mistake cleared up as much as I do. You've got more clout. Get on the phone and tell that dipstick reporter that you aren't marrying Orchid Adams. Tell him you hired her from a very
exclusive
agency named Psynergy, Inc. for her professional focus skills.”
Rafe looked at Orchid. “But I am going to marry her.”
Clementine stared at him. “What in five hells is going on here?”
Orchid went very still. She could not take her eyes off Rafe. “Did you mean what you said last night?”
“Unlike you, I was not under the influence of Brace-well's happy gas.”
“Oh.”
“What about you?” he asked softly. “Did you mean what you said? You may not rememberâ”
“I remember every word.” She smiled. “And I meant every word.”
“Now, hold on just a minute, here.” Clementine planted her hands on her leather-sheathed hips and glared first at Orchid and then at Rafe. “Are you two saying what I think you're saying?”
“Yes,” Rafe and Orchid said together.
“But you haven't been properly matched by a matchmaking agency,” Clementine protested.
“We will soon be matched by the best matchmaking agency in town,” Rafe said. “Synergistic Connections.”
“How do you know that?” Clementine demanded.
Orchid raised her brows. “Yes, how
do
you know that?”
Rafe thought about the Affinity Associates file on Orchid that he had found when he had gone through Gilbert Bracewell's office shortly before the police arrived. The note attached to the file had made everything clear.
It was Bracewell who had arranged to obtain the file from Affinity Associates. He had requested it from
Orchid's counselor on the pretext of requiring it for use in a very special research project. Awed by a request from such a prestigious lab and apparently intimidated by the demand for secrecy, the woman had sent the file to Bracewell.
Bracewell had kept the file hidden in his office. He'd had plans for Orchid. The last thing he'd wanted was for her to be matched while he pursued his scheme to obtain the relic.
The counselor who had supplied the file had expected it to be promptly returned. But Bracewell had never sent it back. The woman eventually took another job in New Vancouver. Apparently uneasy about the situation she had created and, perhaps, belatedly aware of the ethics violation she had committed, she had kept quiet about the status of Orchid's file.
“I just know it,” he said.
It was a typical meta-zen-syn wedding. The groom wore blue. The bride wore yellow. When they reappeared after the ceremony to join their guests in the gardens of Stonebraker House, both wore green to symbolize the power of synergism.
The evening was balmy. The twin moons were full in the night sky. They cast a golden glow over the festive scene.
“I feel really stupid in green,” Rafe said in a low voice as he walked through the crowd with Orchid.
“Okay, so it's not your best color.” She waved to her cousin, Veronica, who was chatting with her parents. “Look at the bright side. You only have to wear it once in your life.”
Rafe smiled with deep satisfaction. “True.”
Hobart Batt popped up in front of them, dapper in a pale pink suit and tie. He saluted them with a glass brimming with champagne.
“All best wishes, etc., etc., from Synergistic Connections,” he chortled.
It occurred to Orchid that Hobart had had several glasses of champagne. “Thank you, Mr. Batt.”
“I know you'll both be very happy together.” Hobart took a sip and winked. “In fact, I believe I can say that with ninety-nine-point-nine percent certainty. A near perfect match. Who would have guessed?”
Rafe swiped a canapé off a passing tray. “Not you, that's for sure.”
Hobart contrived to look hurt. “Here, now, can't blame me for being a trifle concerned. Strat-talents are notoriously difficult to match. And ice-prisms are no easier. Used to make all sorts of mistakes in the old days. But the new techniques are much more accurate.”
“Glad to hear that.” Rafe wrapped his fingers around Orchid's wrist. “If you'll excuse us, I think my grandmother is trying to get my attention. She probably wants us to lead off the first tango-waltz.”
“Of course, of course.” Hobart shooed them away with a movement of the champagne glass. “Oh, before I forget, congratulations on your new position as the C.E.O. of Stonebraker Shipping, sir. Saw the news in the paper last week.”
“Thank you, Batt.” Rafe swung around with Orchid in tow and nearly collided with Selby and Briana.
Selby swept Rafe's suit with an assessing look. “Green is definitely not your color, cousin.”
Briana looked pained. “Oh, for heavens sake, dear. You know perfectly well that Orchid was raised in Northville. Green is traditional at a meta-zen-syn wedding.” She smiled at Orchid. “Pay no attention to him. You both look spectacular.”
Orchid laughed. “Thanks.” She turned toward Selby. “How are things going with the plans for Stonebraker's new transportation technology development facility?”
“Things are on schedule.” Selby's eyes lit up with enthusiasm. “We've got the financing in place. The new computer system is set up. I hired two new department
heads this past week. Personnel is recruiting young tech-talents at the universityâ”
“You had to ask,” Briana said to Orchid. “He's been like this ever since Rafe made him a vice president and put him in charge of Stonebraker's technical development arm.”
Orchid saw the happiness in Briana's face and knew that Rafe's decision had been the right one. She still did not know exactly what had happened between Rafe and Selby that night in the ParaSyn lab. Whatever it was, it had altered the synergy of their relationship.
“Now all I have to do is talk Rafe here into giving me some additional resources for a full-scale wind tunnel,” Selby concluded happily.
“I don't want to hear about wind tunnels until after my honeymoon,” Rafe warned. “Come on, Orchid. Grandmother is getting serious. I think she just sent Alfred G. to fetch us.”
He guided her across the lawn to the terrace. The crowd gathered there moved back to make space. The band struck up a tango-waltz.
Orchid saw her parents standing at the edge of the circle. They smiled broadly when she stepped into Rafe's arms. Clementine and Gracie Proud and Byron Smyth-Jones grinned at the newly wedded couple.
On the other side of the ring of onlookers, Lucas Trent and his wife, Amaryllis, stood with Nick Chastain and Zinnia. They all raised their glasses in a toast as the music swelled.
Applause broke out as Rafe swung Orchid into a long, gliding turn.
“Just one question, Mr. Stonebraker,” Orchid said.
“What is that, Mrs. Stonebraker?”
“Did you alter my marriage registration file so that Hobart Batt could match us?”
“It wasn't necessary. I just gave him the file I found in Bracewell's office. Untouched and unaltered.”
“Things might have been a bit awkward if Hobart hadn't concluded that we were a perfect match.”
“There was no chance that would happen.” Rafe smiled into her eyes. “The first time I saw you, I knew we belonged together.”
“Hah. I don't believe that for one moment. You needed a date and you were getting desperate.”
“Ah, but deep down, I knew that you were the woman I'd been hunting for⦠uh, I mean
searching
for, all my life.”
Happiness shimmered through Orchid in a sparkling wave. “What a coincidence,” she said. “I knew it, too. About our little private detective hobby.”
“What about it?”
“I know we won't have much time for that kind of thing in the future, but I'd hate for us to give it up altogether.”
“No reason why the firm of Stonebraker and Adams can't continue to do a little business on the side when the mood strikes.” Rafe smiled down at her, eyes brilliant with his love. “But not tonight.”
“No,” Orchid agreed. “Not tonight.”