“The electromagnetic field is off the freaking chart, Doc. This room should only have an.02, or maybe.03. we’re at.09 and the damn thing’s climbing. There’s enough electricity in this room to start cooking our brains.”
“Does that account for the temp drop?” Kennedy asked, his own breath coming out in a fog.
“I don’t know, it’s as if—”
Suddenly the portrait flew from the easel, barely missing George Cordero. It landed on the conference table and slid to the end, stopping just before it tumbled to the floor. Then the bellman’s cart with the remaining items on it tipped and was literally thrown, sailing only inches from Gabriel’s head. It smashed into the wall.
“Fuck me!” Leonard shouted. He hit the floor, the magnetic resonance counter flying from his hand.
Kennedy looked around as calmly as he could. Then he smiled and looked at Lonetree and Cordero.
“It’s gone,” John said. He stood and helped Leonard to his feet.
“Yes, he’s right, the house has withdrawn. It got what it came for,” George said, wiping his brow. The temperature had already started rising back up.
“Doc, I don’t know if I’m built for this,” Leonard said. He looked around wildly as if expecting something to charge at him.
Gabriel smiled.
“Would it help you to know that whatever was here was afraid of you and your toys, Leonard?”
Sickles pulled his arm free of Gabriel’s grasp and looked around at the disheveled room.
“Yeah?” he said as he finally looked back at Kennedy. “It sure doesn’t seem like it’s afraid of anything.”
“Well,” Kennedy said patting Leonard on the back, “of anyone we’re taking into Summer Place, you’re the one it will fear, because of what you can bring inside to help defeat it.”
Sickles blinked, and then his bravado returned. He stepped away from the professor and strutted back toward the table.
“John, why don’t you take a few of the smaller items to your room tonight and see what you can come up with? The same for you George.”
Both men nodded. It was back to business, and they appreciated it.
“I’ll keep the portrait and everything else in my room tonight. We wouldn’t want anything disappearing on us.”
A knock sounded at the door. When Leonard, who was nearest, pulled it open, a man in a red blazer stood in the doorway, shifting uncomfortably.
“Yes?” Gabriel said as he stepped forward.
“Uh, sir, I’m security. I was sent from the front desk. Are you related to the woman in 523?”
Kennedy frowned with concern. “Ms. Tilden, Jennifer Tilden?”
“Yes, sir. Small woman, red hair?”
“Yes,” Kennedy answered.
“She’s in the Astor Salon and is making quite a scene. She hasn’t become a problem yet, just a little confusing, and rude perhaps to the group of gentlemen she’s sitting with, perhaps—”
Gabriel and the others shot out of the room with the shocked security man turning and following.
It seemed Bobby Lee McKinnon was awake and had forgotten all about the deal.
As the four men hurried from the meeting room, Julie Reilly, Kelly Delaphoy and Jason Sanborn walked through the ornate front doors. They caught sight of Gabriel and the others cutting across the ostentatious lobby at a quick pace and knew immediately that trouble was brewing. Julie exchanged a quick look of concern with Kelly and Jason and then started after the men as they made their way to the lounge.
Gabriel and the others entered the Astor Lounge and came to a sudden stop. Jenny was dressed in what looked like a very expensive evening gown. It was emerald green and glittered brightly in the small spotlights that lined the ceiling. She was sitting and looked to be conversing in soft tones at a table with four older men, all dressed in two thousand dollar suits. The men looked amused by everything Jennifer was telling them. They watched the woman before them with smiles and rapt fascination. Kennedy nudged John Lonetree in the ribs. Standing not three feet behind Jenny were three large men in black blazers; both Gabriel and John both smelled bodyguards. They didn’t look as amused as their employers at what Doctor Tilden was relaying to them.
“What’s going on?” Julie asked. She nudged George Cordero’s arm.
George only shook his head, but Leonard volunteered what he knew.
“Our crazy lady has something to say to these crackers at the table,” he said. Julie looked at him, confused. “I mean the gentlemen she’s speaking to, with the stuffed Armanis.”
The table was only ten feet away, but Gabriel couldn’t hear what was being said. He watched the reaction of the four men and saw that the smiles were fading.
“The rest of you, stay here. John, let’s see what our lady friend has in common with these astute-looking business men.”
Lonetree followed Gabriel to the table. Jennifer stopped talking and looked up at the two men with a dazzling smile. She tilted her head and John could see the her eyes had been enhanced by makeup and she even had a dusting of glitter on her skin. Her appearance was nothing short of angelic as Lonetree smiled down at her.
“Jenny?” Gabe reached down and, with all of his acting skills, took her hand and kissed it, as though he was just stopping by to say hi. “How are you?”
“Gabriel! Funny running into you here, of all places.”
The five piece band on the stage wound down a slow rendition of an elevator muzak classic and then prepared for another.
“And Mr. Lonetree…The first face you look for and the very last you see,” she said. She pulled her fingers lightly from Gabriel’s so that John could take her hand and kiss it awkwardly.
“Ms. Tilden,” Lonetree stumbled.
“Who are your friends, Jenny?” Kennedy asked, taking a step back and looking at the four heavyset men with expensive suits.
Gabriel knew immediately that he was looking at men who usually would not tolerate having their evening interrupted by anyone. The man Jenny had been talking to had designer glasses and his black dyed hair curled under both ears in one of those European haircuts that old men got to make themselves look younger. The man’s three companions were of the same ilk, and Gabriel took an immediate dislike to all of them.
“I can answer that for you, Doctor Kennedy,” Julie Reilly said, stepping up to join them and shrugging out of her leather jacket. She had broken away from the group at the lounge entrance when she recognized the man at the center of Jenny’s attention. “This is Stephan Martin, the CEO of Griffin Records. Of course, when he first started out in the music business in the early sixties as a twenty-one-year-old producer, his name was Steven Markovich, from the Bronx.”
“I’m afraid you have the advantage of me. As well as this lovely young lady,” the fat man said. He nodded toward Jennifer, who smiled demurely and tilted her head to the left. A very worrisome move — Gabriel saw that her eyes remained fixed on Martin, and they weren’t showing the kindness of her smile.
“My name is Julie Reilly. This is Doctor Gabriel Kennedy, police chief John Lonetree of Montana, and this young lady is Professor Jennifer Tilden.”
“Julie Reilly of the UBC Nightly News,” Martin said as flatly as the words could be spoken. He nodded toward one of the bodyguards as an indication that the conversation was drying up.
“Jenny, if you’re finished with these gentlemen, maybe you can join us for a drink,” Gabriel said.
“Mr. Martin and I haven’t finished our conversation yet Gabe,” Jenny said. She smiled even broader than before. “Now, if you and your friends here would fuck off, I’ll say what I have to say to this fat pig bastard.”
That was it; Martin waved the bodyguard over to the table.