“Okay, I agree that sounds like a reasonable assumption. But what if there’s another drug out there that produces similar effects?”
“That would be one hell of a coincidence,” Fallon said. “No, this is Nightshade. Don’t forget, Eubanks is a respected member of the Society. All the evidence indicates that the Nightshade organization has some high-ranking, well-connected talents planted within the Arcane community. That’s probably how they got their hands on the formula in the first place, and that’s how they’ve managed to stay one step ahead of us.”
“Wait a second. Are you telling me that you think Nightshade still has people planted within the Society?”
“Yes. What’s more, Zack Jones agrees with me. We’ve been talking about the problem damn near every day since he took over the Master’s Chair a few weeks ago.”
Fallon had been known to leap off the deep end occasionally when it came to his beloved theories. But Zack Jones, the new Master of the Society, was, by all accounts, cool-headed, smart and highly intuitive. If he was on the same page with Fallon when it came to Nightshade, there was a good chance Fallon’s conclusion was right.
“Okay,” he conceded. “Here’s something else to chew on. Grace has seen similar waves before.”
“Shit.
Where?”
“In the aura of her old boss, Martin Crocker, and in the auras of two men with whom he had dealings.”
“Son of a bitch,” Fallon said softly. “So Crocker was Nightshade.”
“You’re leaping to conclusions again.”
“It’s what I do. Damn. You know, I was getting suspicious of Crocker. He was high profile and he was Arcane so he popped up on my radar occasionally. I had started to wonder if he was into some dirty side business. Figured it was either arms dealing or drugs, though. Never made the Nightshade connection.”
“What happened?”
“He died before I decided whether or not to fire up an investigation. Do you realize what this means? If we’ve got a way of identifying Nightshade’s people on sight, we’ll have a huge advantage. There are a lot of aura talents registered with the Society. I need to start recruiting some and get them trained.”
“It’s not going to be that easy,” Luther warned. “Grace thinks that only high-level auras will be strong enough to see the dark energy. Most people with the talent can perceive only vague stuff like whether or not the person is ill or mentally disturbed.”
“Which means I need you and Grace to keep up surveillance there on Maui until I can get people in place.”
“You’ve got me,” Luther said. “But I want Grace off the island as fast as possible.”
“Put her on the phone.”
“No,” Luther said.
“Figured you’d get stubborn.”
Luther heard Grace’s phone burble. Startled, she opened her purse.
“You’re a real SOB, Fallon,” Luther said.
Grace had her phone open. “Hello?”
“Hang on,” Fallon said in Luther’s ear. “I’ll be right back.”
Luther cut the connection.
“Oh, hello, Mr. Jones,” Grace said. “I thought you were talking to Luther. Yes. Quite near the hotel. We just stepped out to discuss the situation. What? No, the hunter we ran into last night did not have those rogues in his pattern. Yes, I’m sure Mr. Crocker did. When did I last see him? Uh, well, let me think. It would have been shortly before he disappeared. His office requested some research. I delivered a report to him before he left for his private island.”
Luther braced his back against the tree and watched Grace’s aura as she talked to Fallon.
“The subject of the research?” She frowned in thought. “It’s been over a year, but as I recall it had something to do with some agricultural equipment requests from a charitable foundation that was doing work in developing countries. The two other men I saw who had similar wave patterns were supposedly representatives of the foundation.”
There was a pause while she listened intently.
“Yes, sir, of course,” she said. “Glad to help. Please feel free to call back if you have any more questions. Yes, sir, I’ll tell Luther.”
She ended the connection, slipped the phone back into her purse and looked at Luther.
“You’re not going back to Eclipse Bay today, are you?” he said.
“Mr. Jones instructed me to stay here with you. We’re to return to the hotel immediately and see if we can spot any other Nightshade operatives.”
“And you agreed.”
She raised her chin. “Yes, I did.”
“I don’t like it.”
“I am aware of that but it’s my decision.”
“What makes him think there will be more than just the three of them and their bodyguards?”
“Mr. Jones said that where there are a few snakes, there may be a whole nest.”
“What are the odds that there’s a whole bunch of Nightshade folks hanging out together at a resort on Maui?” he asked.
“Very good, actually. Mr. Jones pointed out that Nightshade is an organization. That means it has a formal structure and a strict hierarchy. No organized group of any kind can survive without at least occasional face-to-face meetings. What’s so strange about holding a conference of senior management on Maui? Pharmaceutical companies and insurance firms do it all the time.”
Excitement had replaced the tension in her voice. He knew when he was beaten.
“You’re really enjoying the role of secret agent, aren’t you?” he said.
“I didn’t get out much this past year in Eclipse Bay.”
He used the cane to push himself away from the tree. “All right. We’ll watch the hotel guests for a day or two. See what turns up. But remember Rule Number One on this job.”
“I’m afraid that in all the excitement, I forgot it.”
“Rule Number One is that I give the orders in the field.”
“I’m your partner and I’m also J&J’s special consultant on the scene, the only one the agency has available at the moment.”
“You do what I say or you’ll find yourself on a plane before you can get packed, partner.”
“But Mr. Jones said—”
“Fallon Jones isn’t here. I am.”
SIXTEEN
Damaris Kemble’s hands curled into fists on the keyboard as she read the e-mail message from the mysterious contractor. She swallowed hard, fighting the rage and frustration that threatened to swamp her.
Job declined. There will be no refund, as it has come to our attention that you misrepresented your references.
“Damn, damn,
damn.”
Somehow the contractor had discovered that she was not the real Winthrup. She had failed Daddy.
The plan had been brilliant in concept, beautifully simple and daring. But it had not worked. Unfortunately, time was running out fast. Eubanks and the others would be together on Maui for only a few days. She shoved herself away from the computer and picked up the phone.
Her call was answered on the first ring.
“The contractor refuses to go through with the job,” she said.
“What went wrong?”
The voice on the other end was reassuringly calm, cool and controlled. Her father’s voice. She relaxed a little at the sound of it.
“The contractor somehow discovered that my credentials were false.”
“You used the correct security codes?”
“Yes, of course. I just rechecked them. They were the codes you provided. But somehow the contractor discovered that I wasn’t the real Winthrup.”
“Interesting. The codes must have been changed quite recently.” There was a pause. “The important thing is that there is no way this can be traced back to either of us. The contractor will assume that someone hacked into the government agency’s computers and stole the codes. He’ll probably notify the agency that they’ve got a security leak. But there’s no reason the contractor or the agency would look twice at J&J or suspect that someone within the Society was involved.”