Canyons of Night lgt-3 Page 10

  Slade stopped at the desk and scooped up a stack of printouts. “It was convenient.”

  Myrna started to say something else but she got distracted by Rex, who came bouncing down the hall from the direction of the break room.

  “Oh, good,” Myrna said. “Looks like he finished the rest of today’s loaf of Thelma’s zucchini bread.”

  “You gave him some more?” Slade asked.

  “It’s either that or I start dumping the bread off the cliff at Lighthouse Point. No human being could possibly eat as much zucchini bread as Thelma is making this year. She had a bumper crop of zucchini, enough to go into commercial production.”

  Rex vaulted up onto Myrna’s desk and chortled a greeting. He clutched a black beaded object.

  “What on earth does he have in his grubby little paws?” Myrna asked. “He’d better not be bringing a dead bird in here. Hmm. Looks like an old evening purse, one of those tiny little bags ladies use to hold a lipstick and a compact.”

  Slade looked at the beaded purse.

  “Damn,” he said. “Rex must have snuck into Charlotte’s shop while we were getting Gaines’s body ready to transport.”

  “Uh-oh,” Myrna said. “If it came from Looking Glass, it’s probably not just some old evening bag. It’s probably a valuable antique.”

  “Probably,” Slade said.

  Rex put the purse on the desk. He selected a few shiny paperclips from Myrna’s stash and put them into the bag. When he was satisfied, he grabbed the purse and jumped back down to the floor. Then he dashed off in the direction of Slade’s office.

  “Something tells me the purse may have lost some of its value,” Myrna said.

  “I’ll put it down as an office expense,” Slade said.

  “Speaking of Charlotte, how’s she doing? Must have been quite a shock for her, walking in on a dead body like that.”

  “She said something about conducting an inventory, so I think she’s recovering.”

  “Not to change the subject, but how was your date last night?”

  “We both survived it,” Slade said.

  The door of the station opened. Kirk Willis, Slade’s one and only officer, entered. He used both hands to remove his sunglasses in a practiced, deliberate gesture.

  Myrna smiled but said nothing.

  “Heard the dead guy was a stalker,” Kirk said.

  Kirk was in his early twenties, a tall, still-gangly young man who didn’t look a day over nineteen. He had been with the department for less than a year when Slade had arrived to take over as head of the department. Kirk had made no secret that he was not enthralled with his job. He had entered the police academy only after he had been forced to accept that his dream of working as a ghost hunter down in the catacombs was not going to happen. Kirk could pull a little ghost light but not enough to make him a Guild man.

  Police work was a fallback profession as far as Kirk was concerned. Winding up in a small department in a town that was nothing more than a dot on the map on an island that wasn’t even on a lot of maps had been a soul-crushing experience for him.

  Kirk’s attitude had improved briefly after they had taken down the drug runners who had ducked into the harbor earlier that week, but Slade didn’t expect the newfound professional pride to last long. He empathized with the younger man. After all, he was planning to get the hell off the island, himself, as soon as possible. But being a short-timer was no excuse for an unprofessional attitude. He was going to have to have a chat with Kirk. There was a job to be done, and as long as Kirk was getting a paycheck from the town of Shadow Bay he was going to do that job right.

  “The stalker theory makes sense,” Myrna said. “I heard that Gaines was a former client of Charlotte’s back in Frequency. Evidently he tried to date her and she declined.”

  “Explains what he was doing on the island,” Kirk said. “Right, Chief?”

  “It does,” Slade said. “And for the moment, that is the official theory of the death.”

  Kirk and Myrna stared at him, eyes widening.

  “Official theory?” Kirk repeated cautiously. “Are you saying it might not be the correct theory?”

  “We are going to conduct an investigation to rule out homicide,” Slade said. “But this will be a very low-profile project. Neither one of you will say a word about it outside this office. Not to anyone. Is that understood?”

  “You got it, Chief.” Kirk’s dark eyes brightened with enthusiasm. “You really think someone murdered Gaines?”

  “Yes, and before you ask, it wasn’t Charlotte.”

  Myrna cleared her throat. “And we know this, how?”

  Slade raised his brows. “I used to work for the FBPI, remember? I’ve done a lot of crime-scene investigation. The psychic evidence at the scene of Gaines’s murder tells me that Charlotte was not the killer.”

  Myrna nodded. “You’re the expert on paranormal forensics. But you’re sure this is murder, not a heart attack?”

  “I’m positive,” Slade said.

  “Poison, maybe?” Kirk offered. “They say some poisons don’t show up in autopsies.”

  “That’s true,” Slade said. “But there’s another possibility. A severe shock from a power source can stop the heart. We’ll know more when we have the three basics.”

  “Means, motive, and opportunity,” Kirk said. He was practically vibrating with enthusiasm now.

  “Right.” Slade looked at him. “You’re good with a computer. I want you to do a background check on Gaines. There’s reason to believe that he was involved in black-market antiquities. He may have made some enemies.”

  “I’ll start on it right away.”

  Slade looked at Myrna. “Any luck locating Gaines’s relatives?”

  “No, oddly enough. It’s as if he doesn’t have any family.”

  “More likely he was living under a fake ID. Look deeper.”

  “Will do,” Myrna said. Excitement lit up her face. She straightened her shoulders and swiveled her chair to face her computer.

  “Remember,” Slade said. “No one in this office talks to anyone about the investigation. Clear?”

  “Clear,” Kirk said.

  “Clear,” Myrna said. “Nothing like this has happened around here since those two hikers got lost in the Preserve five years ago.”

  The door opened. Devin charged into the office. In his excitement, he forgot to remove his sunglasses.

  “What’s a stalker, Grandma?” he demanded.

  They all looked at Myrna.

  “A stalker is a very bad person,” Myrna said. She glanced at Slade. “Right, Chief?”

  “Right,” Slade said. “Very bad.”

  Devin frowned. “Do you think the dead guy came here to hurt Miss Enright?”

  “It’s a possibility,” Slade said.

  “In that case, I’m glad he croaked,” Devin said fiercely. He whirled and ran back toward the door. “I gotta go tell Nate.”

  The door closed behind him.

  Myrna sighed. “Some things seem so much simpler when you’re that age.”

  “Yes,” Slade said. “They do. I’ll be in my office if you find anything.”

  He went down the hall. Rex was napping on his back on top of the row of file cabinets that lined the wall. All six paws were in the air. The stolen purse was nearby.

  “I hope you’re enjoying the hell out of that purse because you’re the one who’s going to have to deal with Charlotte when she discovers you ripped it off,” Slade warned. “Don’t expect me to pay for it.”

  Rex’s blue eyes snapped open. He rolled to his hind legs, picked up the purse, and hopped down onto Slade’s desk.

  Slade reached for the crystal-studded bag. “Let me see that thing.”

  Rex chortled and graciously released the antique purse. When Slade took it he got a little jolt of energy. It was like inhaling a woman’s tantalizing perfume. Pleasant and ever-so-slightly exhilarating.

  “You’re getting a rush out of the energy infused
in this thing, aren’t you?” he said to Rex. “Must be a psychic version of dust bunny catnip.”

  Rex chortled happily. He retrieved the purse and scampered up onto the wide windowsill. He started to bat the cord that controlled the slatted shades.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not going to try to take it away from you,” Slade said. “That purse is your problem. I’ve got enough of my own.”

  He lowered himself into the ancient chair behind the big, battered desk. Both pieces of furniture looked as if they had served several generations of his predecessors. He was pretty sure that the desk, along with the vintage wooden chairs, slatted window blinds, and file cabinets filled with yellowed paperwork, qualified as antiques. Like the town, the police station looked as if it had been caught in a time warp.

  The desk chair groaned when he turned to face the computer. He had thought about picking up a can of oil down at Herb’s Marine Supply but decided it wasn’t worth the trouble. He wouldn’t be hanging around long enough to bother with repairs and maintenance issues.

  The one piece of equipment in the office that qualified as state-of-the-art was the computer. It was not department issue. It was his personal computer. He fired it up and settled in to do some serious research on Jeremy Gaines. Kirk could handle the routine background check. He would be able to access police department and business records but he did not have access to the FBPI files. If Gaines had been involved in the dangerous world of the para-weapons business, the information was more likely to be buried in the Office files.

  Half an hour later he sat back and thought about what he had discovered. He contemplated possibilities for a while and then he picked up the phone and made a call.

  When he finished the phone call, he got up and started for the door.

  Rex grabbed the purse and leaped down to the floor to follow. Slade picked him up and plopped him on his shoulder.

  “If I were you, I’d hide the purse,” he said.

  Rex ignored him.

  Chapter 11

  “YES, DAD, I’M FINE, REALLY.” CHARLOTTE STOOD BEhind the sales counter, holding the phone to her ear with one hand while she studied the screen of her computer. “It doesn’t look like I’m going to be arrested for murder, at any rate.”

  “Arrested.” Daniel Enright was both stunned and outraged. “Are you telling me that there was ever the slightest possibility of your being charged with that bastard’s murder? You said the authorities called it a heart attack.”

  “Right, right, a heart attack,” Charlotte said soothingly. “I was just trying to reassure you.”

  “Using the words arrested and murder in the same sentence is not a good way to reassure me.”

  “I didn’t mean to alarm you, really. Everything is under control.”

  “I was right about Gaines, wasn’t I?” Daniel said grimly. “He was stalking you.”

  “Maybe.”

  “What do you mean, maybe? Why else would he have followed you to Rainshadow?”

  “I’m not sure, Dad, but it’s possible he came here to steal something from my shop.”

  “And dropped dead at the scene?” Daniel did not try to hide his skepticism.

  “I know, it doesn’t sound very likely, does it? But that’s how it looks.”

  A dark shadow blocked the light that had been streaming through the glass door pane. Charlotte looked out toward the street and saw Slade. Rex was on his shoulder. Slade tried the door. When it did not open he looked at her through the window.

  Phone clamped to her ear, she moved out from behind the counter and crossed the room to unlock the door.

  “There’s really nothing to worry about, Dad,” she said. “The local chief of police happens to be a talent who used to work for the FBPI. He knows what he’s doing.”

  “Since when does a former FBPI agent take over a small-town police department?”

  “He’s making a career change. Hang on a second. He’s here now. His name is Slade Attridge.” She opened the door.

  Slade walked into the shop. Rex made excited noises. He waved the beaded purse at Charlotte.

  “So that’s where it went,” Charlotte said. “I had a feeling it had been stolen.”

  “What’s going on?” Daniel demanded on the other end of the phone. “What was stolen?”

  “Nothing, never mind,” Charlotte said. She pointed to the phone and mouthed the words my dad to Slade.

  “Let me talk to him,” Slade said. He plucked the phone from her fingers before she could object. “This is Slade Attridge. Yes, Mr. Enright, I’m the chief of police here on Rainshadow. Right. Yes. I understand, sir. No, she’s not a suspect. Yes, believe it or not, I do know what I’m doing. I’ll give you the name and number of my former boss. You can call him to get some background on me if you’ve got questions. Got a pen?”

  There was a pause. Charlotte heard her father’s muffled voice. She raised her eyes to the ceiling, exasperated. Of course her father had questions. Daniel Enright was a strategy-talent. He hadn’t become the CEO of a successful corporation by taking others on faith. He always looked below the surface.

  A few seconds later Slade spoke into the phone again. “His name is Special Agent Thomas West. He works out of the Resonance City office.” Slade rattled off a phone number. “Tell whoever answers the phone that I gave you that number. Yes, sir, I’ll keep an eye on Charlotte.”

  Charlotte made a face. “This is so irritating.”

  Slade met her eyes while he continued talking to her father. “Yes, sir, I am aware that there was some history between Charlotte and the victim.”

  Charlotte winced.

  “Yes, I agree. Gaines’s death was more than a little suspicious under the circumstances. If it was murder it was by paranormal means and there’s a special department within the FBPI that investigates those kinds of crimes. As it happens, that’s the department I worked for when I was with the Bureau. Yes, sir, I have investigated this kind of thing before.” Slade paused, listening. “Charlotte told you I was making a career change?”

  Charlotte started to smile. Slade raised his brows but his tone remained respectful.

  “Yes, sir, I’m planning to open a private security consulting firm,” Slade said. “I’ll be catering to Arcane-connected corporations like Enright, Inc., as a matter of fact. Yes, sir, I’m aware that there are very few security consultants who understand the problem of securing data and records against corporate espionage agents who possess paranormal powers. It’s a niche market but, I think, a potentially lucrative one.”

  There was another pause.

  “Yes, sir. Getting back to Jeremy Gaines, I did some research on him this morning. Looks like he probably had more than a few enemies. I have reason to believe that he was in the business of peddling stolen antiquities.”

  Charlotte blinked. “Jeremy was in the black market?”

  “Yes, sir, I’ll keep you informed,” Slade said into the phone. “Now you’ll have to excuse me. I’ve got work to do here.”

  He ended the connection and handed the phone back to Charlotte. “Your father is calling my contact at the Bureau as we speak to make sure that I’m actually qualified to keep an eye on you.”

  “Sorry about that,” she said ruefully. “My family has always been a little overprotective of me. You know how it is when you’re the youngest and the only girl.”

  “No,” Slade said evenly. “I don’t know how it is to be the youngest and the only girl.”

  She flushed. “Sorry. I guess you don’t. You’ll just have to take my word for it. It’s not just that I’m the only girl in the family, it’s the panic attack thing and the fact that it’s linked to my talent. Everyone has the impression that I’m delicate. Never mind, tell me what you discovered about Jeremy. Was he really dealing stolen goods?”

  “Looks like it. I did some rough research using the Bureau’s files. I haven’t had time to check out the details but from what I could determine Gaines moved in murky circles. I don’t think he was act
ually a collector, just a broker.”

  “That explains why he never offered to show me his private collection. He probably didn’t have one.”

  “It gets more interesting. He wasn’t just dealing stolen antiquities. There are strong indications that he specialized in the really dangerous stuff.”

  She frowned. “What do you mean by dangerous?”

  “Weapons-grade para-antiques and antiquities. Objects that are powerful enough to kill.”

  “Oh, man. I know there’s a market for that kind of thing but I’ve never gone anywhere near it. I told you, he came to me looking for an Old World snow globe, a pretty toy, not some kind of para-weapon.”

  “And you did locate the snow globe.”

  “Yes. But as I said, I never gave him Mrs. Lambert’s name.”

  “Doesn’t mean he wasn’t able to find out her identity. If I’m right about Gaines, he was a pro. He survived for quite a while in a very dangerous business. All he had to do was follow you around or bug your phone calls or download data from your computer in order to discover Lambert’s identity.”

  She chilled. “Do you really think I led him to her? I have always tried to maintain good security for my clients.”

  “If Gaines was working the para-weapons market, he would have had the skills and the talent to break through any security system you bought off the shelf.”

  Charlotte felt utterly stricken. “If he managed to find Mrs. Lambert through me, then maybe her death wasn’t from natural causes. Maybe he killed her. Maybe I’m responsible.”

  “Take it easy.” Slade frowned. “You’re starting to hyperventilate. Breathe.”

  “Right.” She forced herself to go into the breathing ritual. “Damn, I hate this.”

  “You’re not responsible for Mrs. Lambert’s death. I checked that angle out, too. She died in the hospital of natural causes. She was there for several days. Her family was at her bedside.”

  “You’re sure?”