"Interesting."
"Do you think he was telling the truth about the alien tomb?"
"We'll find out once I've had a chance to decode the journal." Nick paused. "I might need a little help. It could take a while."
"I doubt it if you'll need the assistance of a prism. Your brand of matrix-talent is probably very similar to your father's. I suspect you think the same way he did. His code will probably seem quite obvious to you."
Nick threw her another dark glance. "So much for subtlety."
She was startled to see that his jaw was rigid. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I'll try to make this a little more direct. Will you marry me, Zinnia?"
She came to an abrupt halt midway down the green passage. "Huh?"
Nick stopped. "You heard me." He turned back to face her. His face was an enigmatic mask except for the fierce determination that burned in his eyes. "Look, I know you think I'm a risk."
"Risk?"
"I've got no family, no class, and no taste. But I've got a five-year plan to change all that."
"Yes, I know, but-"
"I can't offer you the assurance of a marriage agency recommendation, but I'm a matrix. That means that once I have a goal, I stick with it."
She swallowed. "And just what is your goal?"
"I intend to love you for the rest of my life."
Zinnia fought back tears. "Oh, Nick. Are you certain? Are you sure you're not just feeling grateful because I helped you survive the crazy-fog attack last night?"
"I was in love with you before you saved my sanity," he said roughly. "I've been in love with you since the first night I met you. Five hells, woman, I've been waiting for you all of my life."
A great lightness swept through her. She wondered that she didn't float right off the ground.
"Oh, Nick." She threw herself into his arms. "I love you, too."
He wrapped her close and kissed her the way he did everything else, with full commitment and attention.
Something slithered in the greenery. Nick broke off the kiss.
"Damn."
Zinnia stepped back. "What's wrong?"
"One of the plants just took a bite out of my jacket." Nick scowled at a drooping leaf. Then he surveyed the ripped sleeve. "Look at that hole."
"Don't worry, you can afford a new one."
He laughed and grabbed her hand. "You're right. I can. Let's go. I want you very badly, but I'm not about to make love to you here. No telling what part of me the next plant will go after."
Zinnia smothered a grin as she followed him down one last corridor. They turned another corner and she saw the entrance of the maze. A small crowd was gathered on the lawn.
"Looks like we've got an audience." Nick towed her through the trellised entrance.
Four people turned to stare. Zinnia recognized Feather and Detective Anselm immediately. A third man was busy squeezing into what appeared to be a fireman's protective coveralls. A huge set of pruning shears lay on the ground beside him.
"Boss." Feather trotted forward. Relief flared in his eyes. "You okay?"
"I'm fine."
"When I couldn't locate you, I went to Miss Spring's place. Heard DeForest's message. Figured you'd heard it, too."
"Good thinking, Feather. Thanks."
Detective Anselm scowled. "What's going on around here? Feather called me up about fifteen minutes ago and told me that if we didn't move we'd have a couple more murders on our hands."
Before Nick could answer, the fourth man stepped out of the shadows of a large tree. He raised a camera.
"Hot synergy." Cedric Dexter snapped the photo. "Great shot."
"Mr. Dexter," Nick said very softly. "I want to have a word with you."
Alarmed, Zinnia seized his torn coat sleeve. "Now, Nick, take it easy."
Nick gave her a beatific smile. "Don't worry. Mr. Dexter and I understand each other perfectly. Isn't that right, Dexter?"
"Uh-" Cedric took a nimble step backward. "Just doing my job, Mr. Chastain."
"Sure," Nick said. "And because you did such a professional job at the ball last night, I have a scoop for you."
Cedric looked distinctly wary. "A scoop?"
"You do have a recorder with you, don't you?"
Cedric brightened and dug a small object out of his pocket. "You bet. I never leave home without it."
Two days later Nick sat at the black desk in the gilded chamber and signed the last page of a fat legal document. He did not bother to look up when the door opened.
"What is it, Feather?"
"A lot of folks to see you, boss. You want I should have 'em escorted off the premises?"
"Don't bother, they'll only come back later. I may as well get this over with so that I can get on with my life." Nick finished scrawling his name and put down the pen.
Orrin charged into the room waving a copy of the New Seattle Times. His wife, Ella, was close on his heels. They were followed by two people Nick had never met.
Feather caught his eye. "Mr. Stanley Spring and his lovely wife, Wilhelmina, sir. Said it was important."
"What is this all about?" Orrin demanded as he came to a halt in front of the desk. He shoved the paper toward Nick. "It says here that you're going to make a large investment in Chastain, Inc."
Nick studied the headline in the business section. Casino Owner to Fund Expansion of Chastain, Inc. "This is old news. That headline was in Synsation yesterday."
"Synsation is just a cheap scandal sheet," Ella snapped. "No one pays any attention to it." She stabbed a beringed finger at the headline. "But this is the Times."
Nick leaned back in his chair. "It must be true, then. Assuming my money is good enough for Chastain, Inc., of course."
Orrin scowled. The expression did not hide the reluctant hope in his eyes. "Are you serious about this?"
"Yes."
Ella nodded, apparently satisfied. "I told you he would do his duty by the family, Orrin."
"We'll have to talk," Orrin muttered. "There's a lot to go over. This will change everything."
"I'll have my secretary schedule lunch at the Founders' Club tomorrow," Nick said.
Orrin blinked. "You want to have lunch with me at the Founders' Club?"
"I'm told that I'm still a member in good standing," Nick said. "Apparently the club management has decided to overlook that little scuffle the other night at the ball. I understand that the Eatons and Miss Gardener did not want a fuss made."
"Very gracious of them under the circumstances," Ella said.
Nick was amused. "Very smart of them, you mean. For my part, I have graciously decided not to sue Eaton. Will there be anything else, Uncle Orrin? Aunt Ella? I'm a little busy at the moment."
Ella frowned at the papers on the desk. "The story in the Times says you plan to sell the casino."
"That's right. I'm starting a new career."
"What sort of career?" Stanley demanded quickly.
"I'm going to become a business consultant." Nick steepled his fingers. "My fiancee informs me that since I have a certain aptitude for making money, I might as well let other people pay me to show them how to do it, too."
Wilhelmina eyed him with open speculation. "What about this expedition you're funding in conjunction with the University of New Seattle and the New Seattle Art Museum?"
Nick looked at her. "The Fourth Chastain Expedition will depart in three months. The goal is to locate a large collection of alien artifacts that my father discovered thirty-five years ago."
Stanley's brows shot up and down several times. "My nephew, Leo, says he's scheduled to join the team."
"His training in Synergistic Historical Analysis and his strong psychometric-talent will prove invaluable in dating the relics." Nick paused meaningfully. "And having his name on the monographs and books that will be written after the team returns should do wonders for his future career at the university."