“You sure you aren’t here to take him out?”
“Plans have changed.”
The hunter started to come up off the bed. He made no sound but his aura shifted a split second before he did.
“Don’t move,” Luther said. He accompanied the warning with an extra shot of energy.
The hunter sank back down onto the bed, literally too weary to get to his feet.
“That really is a nifty trick,” he said. “How long can you keep it up? Must be a hell of an energy drain.”
It was true that he was using an enormous amount of energy to immobilize the hunter. He saw no reason to admit that, however. But the casual manner in which the other man had used the term “energy drain” was interesting. Few people outside the Society, even those comfortable with their psychic natures, would have phrased it quite that way.
“Are you Arcane?” the hunter asked.
“You could say it’s in the blood. You?”
“J&J.”
“Of course you are. No wonder she had a bad feeling about this job.”
“Who?”
“My scheduler. Last night she informed me that she was having doubts about the client and the whole damn situation. This morning she canceled the contract and told me to go home. But I just had to have a look at Eubanks’s room. After all these years, you’d think I’d know enough to pay attention to her intuition.”
“Who is the client?”
“Called herself Winthrup. That’s the code name for our Number Two client. Her story checked out.”
“She identified herself as female?”
“No. The real Winthrup is male. Like I said, my scheduler is a strong intuitive. She had a hunch that whoever contacted us was not the real deal.”
“Any idea why this Winthrup wanted Eubanks removed?”
“We were informed that he had murdered two wives and a young woman but that isn’t why we were given a contract. His major offense, according to Winthrup, is that he is engaged in laundering money for a group that finances terrorists.”
“You work for the government?”
“Private contractor. We’ve got a very short list of clients. A certain government agency is one of them. That’s where the real Winthrup works.”
The cell phone in Luther’s pocket vibrated urgently. He yanked it out and glanced at the code. Grace.
“Eubanks is on his way back here,” he said. “He’s got a hunter bodyguard with him.”
“The hunter will sense that there was some action in this suite.”
“I don’t think so. My associate assures me that the bodyguard is not a full hunter. Seems to lack a few of the usual skills, including the ability to pick up the spoor of violence.”
“Not much of a hunter, then. Well, this is over for me. Good thing, too. My first grandchild is due to arrive at any minute. The family is gathering to celebrate the big event. Mind letting me up?”
“One more thing,” Luther said. “Got any proof of your version of events?”
“How about if I say the magic words?”
“Which are?”
“Tell Fallon Jones that Sweetwater sends his regards.”
“You know Fallon?”
“We’ve only got two clients. Number One is J&J.”
TWENTY
“You ran into Harry Sweetwater in Eubanks’s hotel room?” Fallon sounded genuinely startled, a rare state of affairs. “Son of a gun. What are the odds?”
“You keep saying that.” Luther reached the sliding glass doors, turned and started back across the suite. The cane thudded heavily on the carpet. “Here’s the thing, Fallon. You’re supposed to know the damn odds. That’s your job, remember? Figuring the odds? Connecting dots? Running probabilities? This is a major screwup. What the hell is going on? Did you forget to mention that you’d sent a pro after Eubanks?”
He was very aware of Grace sitting on the sofa looking concerned. The aftereffects of using such a heavy volume of energy to keep Sweetwater planted on the bed were hitting him hard and she obviously knew it. The adrenaline and other biochemicals that had flooded his bloodstream had worn off, leaving him jittery and cold. He hated this part, hated looking exhausted in front of her. The damn cane was bad enough.
“I didn’t send Sweetwater after Eubanks,” Fallon said.
“Who else besides J&J would want Eubanks dead?”
Grace raised her hand. “Someone who wants his job?”
“I heard that,” Fallon said. “I like it. Makes sense, given what we know about Nightshade. It’s a tough outfit.”
Luther stopped and looked across the room at Grace. “Sweetwater said his scheduler thinks that the person calling herself Winthrup was a woman. Evidently the real Winthrup is a man.”
“Sweetwater’s scheduler is his wife,” Fallon said. “She’s probably right. High-level intuitive.”
“I don’t believe this. His
wife schedules the hits?”
“Sweetwater is a family business,” Fallon explained. “It was founded shortly after J&J was established. There’s been a connection between the two firms ever since. Should be another generation of Sweetwaters coming along soon. Harry’s oldest son got married a while back.”
“He did say something about having to get home for the birth of a grandchild.”
“It’s a very close family.”
“The family that whacks together, stays together?”
Over on the sofa Grace raised her brows.
“Guess it makes for strong family bonds,” Fallon said.
“Just out of curiosity, how often does J&J employ the Sweetwater clan?”
“As infrequently as possible and only when there’s no other option. We always make an effort to put together a case that will hold up with regular law enforcement and the courts, you know that. You’ve helped build some of those cases. But occasionally we find ourselves dealing with a high-level sensitive gone bad who is just too damn clever or simply too powerful. Cecil Ferguson, for example.”
“Who was Ferguson?”
“A level-ten hypnotist who was also a serial killer. Murdered twelve people before he came to our attention. Took us that long to realize he was one of us, a sensitive. High-grade hypnos are so rare that I’ve often wondered if he was formula-enhanced.”
“Nightshade?”
“Maybe. But we were never able to prove it. This was back in the early days of dealing with Nightshade. We were just beginning to realize that we were facing a full-blown criminal organization, not just another renegade scientist who had decided to play alchemist. At any rate, I knew we couldn’t give Ferguson to the cops, not even with plenty of evidence. Anyone who got within a few feet of him was at risk of being put into a trance. He would simply have walked away from the arresting officers.”
“So you sent Sweetwater.”
“Who took him out from a safe distance. For the record, I use Sweetwater only as a last resort and then only with the full approval of the Council and the Master. And we sure as hell didn’t send him to Maui.”
“Whoever did send him knew how to make herself look like she was Client Number Two. Sweetwater said she used all the right codes.”
“Interesting,” Fallon said, grim and thoughtful.
“All right, getting back to our little problem here, how are you doing getting your long-term surveillance people in place? These guys might leave at any time.”
Over on the sofa Grace raised her hand again. “I could follow one of the Nightshade operatives.”
He gave her his most intimidating stare. She did not appear to notice.
“Heard that, too,” Fallon said. “Unfortunately, Grace isn’t trained for that kind of work.”
Luther smiled at Grace. “He says you’re not trained for that kind of work.”
She grimaced and flopped back against the sofa cushions.
“I’m working on the surveillance issue,” Fallon said. “I’ll have five agents there within the next twenty-four hours. You and Grace will have to keep an eye on things until then.”
“We don’t need Grace on the scene any longer. I want her out of here.”