In Too Deep (22 page)

Hal, Liz, Adrian and everyone else within earshot turned to look at her. There was a great hush around the buffet table.

“And you would be?” Adrian asked. Curiosity and a tinge of masculine interest lit his eyes.

“Isabella Valdez,” she said. “I’m an investigator with J&J. I work at headquarters. Also, I manage the office for Mr. Jones.”

“Ah, so you’re the new assistant. I’m Adrian Spangler.” Adrian stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“You, too.” Isabella brushed crumbs off her palms and shook his hand.

No one else moved. No one else said a word. It was as if everyone in the vicinity except Adrian and Isabella had been flash-frozen.

“So, why would firing Fallon Jones and dumping J&J be a dumbass thing to do?” Adrian asked. There was no challenge in his tone, just curiosity.

“Because with J&J and Fallon Jones, the Society has the best psychic investigation agency on the planet,” Isabella said briskly, “at least for the kind of investigative work that Arcane needs. The agency is uniquely qualified to handle Arcane business because it has a grasp of the history of the organization as well as access to all of the private files pertaining to the old cases.”

“Good point,” Adrian said. “It would be hard for another agency to step in and take over.”

Hal frowned. “It might take some time for a new agency to get up to speed, but the trade-off would be a higher level of professional stability at the top.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake,” Isabella said. “Stop trying to imply that Fallon Jones is unstable and crazy. I doubt that you would know a real conspiracy nutcase if you tripped over one.”

Adrian grinned. “And you would?”

He was enjoying himself, Isabella realized. She noticed that Raine had quietly joined the small crowd at the buffet table. Raine, too, looked amused. But everyone else appeared to be teetering on the fine line between shock and fascination.

“Absolutely,” Isabella said. “I happen to be an expert on the subject of conspiracy theorists. I can spot ’em a mile away. That’s one of the assets I bring to the firm, by the way. Trust me, Fallon Jones is no conspiracy freak. Polar opposite, in fact.”

Hal scowled, but Liz and Adrian and several others were starting to look intrigued.

“All right,” Adrian said. “I give up. What is the polar opposite of a conspiracy freak?”

Isabella smiled. “A real detective, of course.”

This time a few whispers rippled across the gathering crowd.

Isabella reached for another canapé. “Don’t you get it? Fallon Jones thinks like a detective, not a conspiracy kook. He uses his talent to link facts and make connections, but he doesn’t invent those facts and connections and he doesn’t manipulate them the way true conspiracy nuts do. He’s a psychic Sherlock Holmes. Holmes and Jones would be the last people on earth to be sucked into a conspiracy fantasy.”

It dawned on her that the crowd was no longer staring at her. Everyone’s attention was focused on a point behind her.

She turned around and saw Fallon watching her with an inscrutable expression. There was a little heat in his eyes.

“What do you say we go outside and get some fresh air, Watson?” he said.

“Watson got to carry a gun.”

“Forget the gun.”

“You never let me have any fun on the job.”

“Not true. I let you find a serial killer and some dead bodies, didn’t I?”

“Well, there is that.” She plucked two more hors d’oeuvres off the tray. “You’ve got to try one of these little puff pastry thingies. They’re yummy.”

“Thanks,” Fallon said.

He took a canapé in one hand, nodded briefly at the small crowd watching the scene and wrapped his other hand around Isabella’s arm. He ate the puff pastry as he steered her toward the glass doors that opened onto the terrace.

“Good, aren’t they?” Isabella said.

“Not as good as Marge’s muffins.”

“No,” she agreed. “Nothing else is that good.”

“Except your grandmother’s ginger soup.”

“Except for that.”

T
hey stood at the terrace railing and looked out at the night. The towering red rocks that gave Sedona so much character were transformed into dark, looming monoliths beneath the crystal-sharp moon. Isabella shivered a little with a bone-deep awareness.

“It’s true what they say about this place,” she said. “You really can feel the energy.”

“It’s not a nexus because it lacks ocean currents, but it definitely has its own kind of power,” Fallon agreed. “There are several vortexes in the region.”

“I can see why the Society likes to hold some of its meetings here.”

“Trust me, Zack and the Council didn’t choose this location just because it sits on a vortex site.”

“No?” She glanced at him. “Why, then?”

“Because it’s got a certain reputation. Notice all those brochures in the lobby advertising vortex tours, crystal healing and spiritual guides?”

“I see what you mean. You can hold a convention of psychics here and no one will think it’s weird.”

“It’s called hiding in plain sight,” Fallon said.

She shivered again, this time because of the chill in the air. “It’s a lot colder than I thought it would be. This is supposed to be a desert.”

“It’s January and the altitude here is forty-five hundred feet,” Fallon said. “We’re lucky it’s not snowing.”

“Leave it to you to know exactly why I’m freezing my rear off out here.” She folded her arms around herself. “I should have thought to check the weather report when I packed for this trip. Guess I was a little too focused on the dress and shoes. I was so worried they wouldn’t arrive in time.”

Fallon looked at the dress. “The dress is nice.”

“Glad you approve, but don’t thank me until you get the bill.”

“No problem. It’s a business expense.”

“Right.”

Nothing personal, she thought. It wasn’t as if he had bought the dress for her as a gift. Just a business expense.

“The dress was pretty pricey,” she warned.

He shrugged.

“But not as expensive as using one of the Arcane corporate jets to get here,” she added.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“I had to spend some bucks on the dress because it’s hard to fake quality in a fancy evening gown, you see. But the shoes are a knockoff.”

“Don’t worry about it, Isabella. Like you said, the jet cost a hell of a lot more.”

“Okay.”

He took off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders. It carried the warmth and scent of his body. She suddenly felt much warmer.

“Thanks,” she said.

He nodded once, dismissing the small act of gallantry and propped one foot on the low rock barrier that rimmed the terrace. He leaned forward, one arm braced on his thigh.

She edged a little closer to him. He looked so sexy and so devastatingly masculine out here in the shadows, she thought. There was the distilled essence of the relentless avenger, the protector and the warrior in the energy that enveloped him. He was the kind of man you could always depend on, she thought. His word was his bond. Honor mattered to Fallon Jones.

He moved one hand, slightly revealing the face of his black watch and one of the old-fashioned gold-and-onyx cuff links that secured the cuff of his crisp white shirt.

“Did someone give you those cuff links?” she asked.

He glanced down at his left wrist. “Family heirlooms. Once upon a time they belonged to Caleb Jones. They’ve been passed down the line to me.”

“That’s nice,” she said. “Things like that help keep you in touch with the past. They remind you of who you are and where you came from and what you need to be.”

“Yes,” he said.

“Someday you can pass them down to your own son. Or daughter. No reason a woman couldn’t wear cuff links.”

Fallon frowned, as though the prospect of having offspring was a new concept.

“Hadn’t thought about that,” he said.

“Must be nice to have a big family like yours,” she said wistfully.

“It’s a pain in the ass most of the time.”

“But you know they’re there for you if you need them to be there.”

“Yes,” he said.

“Did you hear what those people were saying at the buffet table?” she asked after a while.

“About severing the connection between Arcane and J&J? Zack warned me there was talk.”

“If whoever is behind the talk succeeded in getting Arcane to dump the agency, it wouldn’t stop there, would it?”

“No,” he said. “If the coup is successful, it would result in the Joneses’ losing control of Arcane. In one sense it wouldn’t matter.”

She smiled. “Because the Joneses would take their secrets and fire up another version of Arcane?”

“We wouldn’t have any choice. Someone has to do what Arcane has been doing since the Victorian era.”

“Keep a lid on the damage done by the bad guys who happen to be psychic and hunt down the folks who try to re-create the formula.”

“The problem,” Fallon said, “is that it would take time to rebuild a new Arcane, and time is the one thing we don’t have a lot of right now. Meanwhile Nightshade would almost certainly use the lull to reposition itself within the heart of Arcane.”

“So that’s what we’re dealing with. A conspiracy to oust the Joneses from Arcane and take over the Society.”

“It depends on your definition of conspiracy,” Fallon said. “Zack thinks of it as hostile a takeover.”

“Nope, I know conspiracies when I see them, and this is the real deal.”

His mouth twitched. “What did I ever do without you to help me see things clearly, Isabella Valdez?”

She wrinkled her nose. “You’re laughing at me, aren’t you?”

“No,” he said. “I’m laughing at myself.” He wrapped one arm around her and pulled her close. “I didn’t do that a whole lot before I met you, at least not in a very long time.”

“I’m not sure how to take that.”

“I was slipping into the darkness before you came along, Isabella.”

“No,” she said quickly. “I think you were just physically and psychically exhausted and maybe a little depressed because the job was overwhelming you.”

“All I know is that with you I feel centered again.”

It wasn’t exactly a declaration of love, she thought, but at least Fallon was aware of the bond between them. That would do for now.

She reached up and touched his hard jaw. “When I’m with you, I feel as if I’ve found something I’ve been looking for a very long time.”

His eyes burned. He lowered his head and kissed her, slowly at first, letting the hunger grow between them. The heady psi of the Sedona night closed around them, enhancing sensation across the spectrum. Isabella opened her senses to savor the invisible fire.

“Excuse me if I’m interrupting anything.”

The voice, iced with rage and pain, came out of the darkness behind Isabella. Jolted, she gasped, took a step back out of Fallon’s arms and turned quickly, nearly toppling in her stiletto-heeled shoes. Fallon caught her easily, steadying her.

They both looked at Jenny Austin, who stood in the shadows. Searing fog flared around her.

“Hello, Jenny,” Fallon said quietly.

Jenny walked closer. Her hands were clenched in small fists at her sides. Dressed in black and bathed in moonlight she looked like the doomed heroine of an opera that was destined to end in tragedy. She seemed oblivious to Isabella’s presence.

“I can’t believe you had the gall to show up here tonight, Fallon,” Jenny said. Her voice was tight as though she was struggling to breathe or to restrain tears. “How could you do this to my family?”

“I’m sorry,” Fallon said. “But we both know it was inevitable that sooner or later we would come face-to-face at some Arcane event. The Society is a small world at the top.”

“And your family controls that world,” Jenny said bitterly.

Fallon did not react.

Jenny abruptly turned to Isabella.

“You must be the new office manager everyone is talking about. The one who thinks Fallon is some kind of modern Sherlock Holmes.”

“Well, as a matter of fact, in addition to managing the office, I’m an investigator in the firm,” Isabella said.

“The way I hear it, you’re providing some additional services on the side,” Jenny said coldly.

At that, Fallon stirred. Ominous energy shivered in the atmosphere. “That’s enough, Jenny. Isabella has nothing to do with you and me.”

“Does she know why we broke up?” Jenny whispered. “Does she know that you killed my brother?”

Isabella studied the fog that threatened to consume Jenny. “I know what really happened the night your brother died,” she said gently. “I can also see that the secrets you are keeping are slowly but surely destroying you. You know the old saying, the truth will set you free.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jenny said. “Fallon Jones killed my brother.”

“You were the one who exposed Fallon to the magic-lantern lights that night, weren’t you?” Isabella said gently. “Tucker didn’t use his talent to slip into your condo to set up the lantern. You did it so that Fallon would be disoriented when your brother came to murder him.”

Fallon was suddenly very still. But his reaction was nothing compared with Jenny’s. She looked stricken.

“You’re crazy,” Jenny whispered.

“I’m sure Fallon knows the truth. He has probably known it all along.”

“That’s not true.” Jenny’s voice rose. She turned to Fallon. “Make her stop talking.”

“That’s not so easy to do,” Fallon said.

Isabella took a step toward Jenny and stopped. “Don’t mean to scare you, but I really don’t think you’re going to be able to keep the secret much longer. I’ve seen this kind of hot fog before. If you were a sociopath, it wouldn’t be a problem. They feed on the flames. But you are a decent person and you once cared about Fallon so you feel the heat, don’t you? You know what it’s doing to you.”

“Shut up,” Jenny pleaded. “Just shut up. Please.”

Isabella said nothing. Fallon did not move.

Jenny started to cry. Everything about her seemed to crumple beneath the crushing weight of the secrets she had been holding.

Isabella went to her and put her arms around her. Jenny resisted for a few seconds and then the last of the dam gave way. Jenny sobbed against Isabella’s shoulder.