geek. It was not right. This was not her true destiny.
She had to admit, however, that, in addition to his adoration and his billions, Newlin had one immensely useful attribute. He knew his way around cyberspace. After Craigmore had turned up dead, Damaris had been unable to monitor J&J and thus lost track of Grace Renquist. But dear Newlin had hacked into the agency’s confidential, highly encrypted database with ease. It was not terribly surprising since his company had designed the software.
She pulled herself together with sheer willpower and forced herself to think.
“We’ve been through this. You know why she’s here.” She turned around on the stool and looked straight at Newlin. “She is stalking me.”
“Dearest, are you absolutely certain of that?”
She leaped to her feet, tightened the tie of her dressing gown and began to pace the lush room. “I told you, Grace Renquist has been haunting me for weeks.”
The stalking scenario had started out as a minor fib intended to explain the situation to Newlin. But somewhere along the line it had become a reality. There was no doubt in her mind that Renquist, driven by jealousy, was stalking her.
“Perhaps it’s time to call in the police,” Newlin suggested.
“The police are useless in situations like this. Believe me, I know. This is not the first time I’ve had to deal with this kind of thing.”
“Then at least allow me to hire around-the-clock security to protect you.”
She was pushing too hard. The last thing she wanted was a security detail.
“I told you, that would only cause rumors and scandal,” she said quickly. “I can’t afford that, not at this delicate point in my career.”
That certainly ranked as one of the most outrageous lies of the twenty-first century. Generally speaking, there was nothing like a juicy scandal to perk up a career in the world of opera.
Newlin was almost wringing his hands now. “But your safety is paramount. I can afford the best in security. They’ll be very discreet, I swear.”
She waved that away. “No, no, now that I think about it, you may be right. I do have to consider the possibility that Renquist is simply a devoted fan who admires my art so much that she flew in from Hawaii to catch my performance tonight,” she said soothingly.
Fat chance. There was only one reason Renquist was in Acacia Bay. She was pursuing her. While it was deeply gratifying to know that the woman comprehended La Sirène’s power, she simply could not be allowed to live.
She stopped at the wardrobe and spun around to face Newlin. The practiced motion sent the skirt of her blue satin dressing gown sweeping out in a dramatic fashion.
“I have an idea,” she said, “but I will need your help, my love.”
“Of course, my dear. Anything.”
“I can see only one course of action.” She eased compelling energy into her voice. The result was a delicate, melodic singsong effect. There was some natural power in her speaking voice but the full strength of her talent could only be accessed when she moved into the higher ranges. “I must meet with Grace Renquist face-to-face, woman-to-woman. If I talk to her, perhaps I can find out the basis for her obsession with me.”
Newlin glowed with admiration. “That’s a wonderful idea.”
“I’ll record the conversation.” The words came out in a light, lilting, sparkling pulse of energy. “With luck I’ll be able to find out whether she’s a fan or a dangerous person. If she is a stalker, I’ll have proof that I can take to the police.”
“Brilliant, my love, absolutely brilliant.”
He was already helplessly enthralled. She could see the longing in his eyes.
She began to thread more energy into each word. The Voice took on strength, resonance and raw power.
“You must bring her to me,” she sang.
Newlin’s dark brows crinkled together over the rims of his glasses. For an instant his own considerable intelligence rose to the surface.
“Wouldn’t it be simpler if you just called her at her hotel in the morning?” he said plaintively. “I’m sure Miss Renquist would probably be thrilled at the chance to meet you in person.”
She was suddenly and completely Verdi’s Lady Macbeth, faced with the maddening challenge of trying to urge her lover to overcome his foolish scruples. She launched into the sleepwalking aria, energy soaring through her.
. . . You tremble?
. . . Shame
Toward the end she sailed on the wings of the high D-flat. Even Callas, La Divina herself, had found it difficult to hold on to that exposed note. But it was nothing for La Sirène, nothing at all.
Newlin was transfixed.
“I would do anything for you,” he whispered. “Anything.”
No doubt about it, she still had the Voice.
FORTY-FIVE
Luther swiped one of the laundry carts from the housekeeping closet down the hall and stuffed the still sleeping Damaris into it. When he had her safely locked away in another room on a different floor, he took out his phone and punched in Grace’s number.
She answered halfway through the first ring.
“Luther? Are you okay? I’ve been worried sick. I had that terrible feeling again, the same one I had the night you ran into Craigmore in the garage. I tried to call you but your cell was off. Then the sensation just sort of evaporated.”
A sense of deep satisfaction warmed him. Bonded for sure. It felt good.
“It’s a long story,” he said, “but yeah, I’m okay.”
“I just had a call from Fallon Jones. He said they found some files in Craigmore’s safe indicating that Vivien Ryan is his daughter. He was a sperm donor years ago. What’s more, there’s another daughter around somewhere.”
“Her name is Damaris. We just met.”
“What?”
“She’s going to be the first person to enter the Society’s version of a witness protection program.”
There was a brief silence on the other end.
“You’ve been busy,” Grace said.
“And the night is only going to get busier. Don’t take this the wrong way, but it looks like I’ll be spending the next hour or so in a hotel room with a blonde.”
“Okay, that’s going to take some explaining.”
He gave her a quick rundown of events, deliberately finessing the confrontation over the laser. Unfortunately, Grace could read between the lines.
“She tried to kill you.”
“She’s on the drug, Grace,” he said quietly. “Her supply was cut off when her father died.”
Grace sighed. “She’s dying.”
“Her only hope is the antidote. She’s willing to talk to J&J and Zack Jones and anyone else in order to get it. She’s not a complete sociopath like her sister. Her spectrum is complete. This was all about trying to please Daddy.”
“William Craigmore.”
“Turns out he wasn’t just a traitor to the Society. He was the founder of Nightshade.”
“Well, that’s going to be a little awkward to explain at the Society’s next general meeting.”
“I think so, yes. Fortunately, we don’t have to worry about the politics of the situation. Start packing. I’ll come back to the hotel as soon as someone arrives to collect Damaris.”
“We’re checking out tonight?”
“I’m going to take you to L.A. I don’t want you in the same town as Vivien Ryan any longer than necessary. We’ve got some time, though. According to Damaris, Ryan doesn’t know we’re here. She also said La Sirène probably won’t return to her hotel room until very late tonight if at all.”
“Because of the reception we read about in the newspapers?”
“Right. It’s being thrown by her current lover, Newlin Guthrie.”
“As in Guthrie Hall, the new opera house?”
“As in. Guthrie made his fortune in software and high-tech gadgets. He owns half the town.”