by Jayne Castle
He looked at her. “That’s what you mean when you say you custom blend the tisanes for your customers?”
She nodded and took another bite of eggs. “I can sense what herbs will resonate best with an individual’s para-psych profile. Take moonseed, for example. It’s an old folk remedy for insomnia. But there are several different species and a dozen different preparations. Taking the stuff as a sleeping aid has always been hit or miss in terms of effectiveness.”
“Probably why it has always been relegated to the status of a folk remedy instead of a real medication.”
“True. But if I do a proper consult using tuned amber, I can match the right species, preparation, and dose to the customer. The dose, by the way, is critical with moonseed. The stuff is practically tasteless in liquids, so people are inclined to take way too much of it. If it does work, it can wipe you out for a full day.”
He looked amused.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
“I’m thinking about the lecture I got from your father.”
“What lecture?”
“The one in which he advised me that you were a delicate, gentle creature who had to be treated with great care.”
She glowered. “Dad said that?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Is that the reason why you never tried to do anything more than kiss me good night when you took me home from a date back in Aurora Springs?”
“Hell, no. Regardless of what your family believed, I knew that you were no fragile piece of spun amber the first time I met you.”
“Really? Do you mean you sensed that I had a fairly strong degree of psi power? I’ve heard some people can pick up on that kind of thing in others.”
“No.” He looked at her over the rim of the mug. “The strength I felt in you was another kind of power.”
“Like what?”
He hunted for the words to express what he had known that very first day when she had walked into the Department of Archives. “You’re the kind of person your friends know they can trust and count on no matter what. You’re loyal, but your loyalty can’t be bought. You’ve got a soul-deep notion of what’s right and what’s wrong, and you’d go down fighting for what you thought was right, every time, regardless of the obstacles. And you’re kind.”
“Good grief, you make me sound as dull as untuned amber.”
He frowned. “Just the opposite. You’re the most interesting woman I’ve ever met.”
She got a little tingly feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Really?”
He held up one finger. “What’s more, just so you know, you possess one special quality that puts you way out of the boring category.”
“What?”
“You’re sexy as hell.”
“Hah.” She narrowed her eyes. “If I’m so gosh-darned sexy, why did you keep us at arm’s length back in Aurora Springs?”
He leaned back in his chair, stretched his legs out under the table, and cupped the mug in both hands. “At the start it was because I knew I was cruising under what you would consider false colors.”
“Oh, yeah, right. The fact that I actually believed you were a librarian.”
“I was a librarian.” He shrugged. “But I wasn’t sure how you would react when I became a Guild boss. When it happened, I could tell that you were very uneasy about the situation. I rushed to get the ring on your finger, but once I had it there, I told myself I should take things slowly and give you a chance to get used to the idea of marrying the head of the Guild. I knew you were not real keen on the idea.”
She put down her fork. “Who says Guild bosses aren’t insightful and perceptive?”
“Not me. Being a shrewd, farsighted, perceptive kind of guy, I assumed that hot sex would complicate the situation.”
“How?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I was afraid that if we went to bed together, you might convince yourself that the only thing we had going for us was sexual attraction. I had a vision of you trying to reduce our relationship to the status of an affair and eventually calling it off entirely. Figured if I courted you in the old-fashioned Guild tradition, you would see that we were a good match in other ways.”
She surprised him with a quick, amused smile. “Talk about overthinking a problem. Guess it was that scholarly upbringing your parents gave you. Too much history, logic, and philosophy.”
“Guess so.”
“Is there any more toast?”
And they said it was men who tried to avoid relationship discussions, he thought.
“I’ll make some more.” He got to his feet and went back to the kitchen counter to pop another slice of bread into the toaster. “Maybe we’d better get back to the subject of what happened last night at the club. You said you picked up traces of the same psi energy that you sensed when you handled those herbs that Bertha brought out of the tunnels?”
“Psi-bright. Yes.”
He glanced at her over his shoulder. “But you didn’t actually see any of the stuff?”
“No, but as I told you, for me to pick it up at a distance means there must have been a large amount of the herbs in the vicinity or else a highly refined form of them.”
“Enchantment dust.”
“Probably.”
He turned around slowly and lounged back against the counter. “No doubt about it, there’s a strong connection to The Road.”
“What are you thinking?”
“That there are a couple of possibilities. The first is that Ormond Ripley, the owner of the club, is running a drug operation.”
“Why do you look doubtful about that possibility?”
“London told me that Ripley has always been careful to stay on the right side of the legal line.”
She raised her brows. “Greed has no limits.”
“Can’t rule it out,” he agreed. “But it’s also possible that someone in his organization is running a little drug business on the side and that Ripley isn’t aware of it.”
She got an uneasy expression. “You’re going to go back to The Road, aren’t you?”
“I don’t have much of a choice.” He took the map out of his pocket, unfolded it on the table, and pointed to one of the rooms. “That’s the women’s restroom. Show me exactly where you were when you picked up the psi buzz from the herbs.”
She examined the map closely. “I came out that door and turned right.” She moved her finger along the hallway. “There are swinging doors here. I was standing right about there when a waiter came through the doors. That was when I caught the trace of psi.”
He studied the markings on the map. “Looks like all the rooms on the other side of the doors are allocated to catering and food storage. There’s also one marked Janitorial Supply. Can’t see anyone storing dope in any of those places. Too likely to be discovered.”
She tapped the map with one finger. “I’m sure I felt something, and it had to be coming from somewhere in the vicinity of the swinging doors.”
He looked up. “Any chance the energy was coming from underneath the hall or from the ceiling above?”
“Not the ceiling,” she said, very sure of herself. “But down below the floor is a real possibility. Most of the buildings in the Old Quarter have basements, cellars, and underground storage rooms of one sort or another. Wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a hole-in-the-wall somewhere beneath the club, too. Like I told you, this part of town is riddled with them.”
He flattened both hands on the table on either side of the map. “I’m going to take a look today.”
“How will you get in?”
“Same way I did last night, as a club employee. Shouldn’t be too difficult. There are several hundred people working there. Even during the day a business like that will have a lot of staff running around.”
“I don’t know, Cooper, it sounds awfully dangerous.”
The phone on the wall bonged loudly. Cooper reached for it, relieved to have a convenient interruption to a discussion he did not wi
sh to continue.
“No.” Elly shot up out of her chair, something akin to panic widening her eyes. She waved her hands madly. “Don’t answer that,” she mouthed.
But it was too late.
“Hello,” Cooper said automatically.
“Cooper? Is that you?” The familiar female voice rose on a questioning note. “This is Evelyn St. Clair.”
“It’s me,” he said. He gave Elly an apologetic look. “Good morning, Mrs. St. Clair.”
Elly bounded around the edge of the table, hand outstretched. “Give me that phone.”
“It’s a bit early in the day,” Evelyn observed bluntly. “What are you doing there at Elly’s apartment at this hour?”
“Having breakfast,” Cooper said, holding the phone out of Elly’s reach. “Elly took me out on the town last night. Showed me some of the sights of the big city after dark. Got to say, I was amazed.”
Evelyn laughed. “Cooper, you’re teasing me. We both know you’ve spent plenty of time in places other than Aurora Springs in recent years. In fact, you didn’t even move back here until you took the job in the Department of Archives.”
“I’m serious, Mrs. St. Clair. Cadence City has been a real eye-opener.”
Elly managed to get a grip on the phone. He let her have it and went to see how the toast was doing.
“Mom?” Elly scowled ferociously at Cooper. “Yes, I know. He slept on the sofa, Mom. Not that it’s anyone’s business.”
The toast had popped up. Cooper removed the slice, put it on a plate, and carried it back to the table. Rose hopped down off the windowsill to join him.
“He’s just a houseguest as far as the neighbors are concerned, Mom,” Elly said. “Also, I might add, as far as I’m concerned.”
There was another pause in the conversation. Elly listened with an air of grim patience.
“Yes, Mom, I know how it would look back home in Aurora Springs, but, see, that’s the beauty of living in Cadence. Here in the big city, no one worries about what you do or with whom you do it. Everybody minds their own business. It’s an interesting concept. Well, got to run. Almost time to open up the shop. Give my love to Dad. Bye.”
She hung up the phone, crossed her arms, and glared at Cooper. “Henceforth, you do not, under any circumstances, answer my phone. Is that clear?”
Cooper gave Rose one half of a slice of toast and ate the other.
“Your house, your rules,” he said. “But just out of curiosity, are you sure no one around here is interested in your love life?”
“For Pete’s sake, I don’t have a love life.”
“You’ve got a sex life now, though. In my experience, a lot of folks, even your big-city, sophisticated, wine-snob types, are interested in other people’s sex lives.”
“Isn’t it time you got busy with your so-called investigation?”
“Well, if you’re going to be that way about it—”
“I am.”
Chapter 20
SHORTLY BEFORE THREE O’CLOCK THAT AFTERNOON, A familiar figure materialized out of the heavy fog that still filled Ruin Lane. The door of St. Clair’s Herbal Emporium opened, setting off the overhead chimes.
Elly cringed. She was developing a phobia to the stupid little doorbells, she thought. They had been ringing almost constantly all day. Ever since she had turned the Closed sign to Open she’d had an abnormal number of visitors. Very few had been interested in purchasing her tisanes.
Beatrice Kim, the owner of Dead City Rarities located two doors down, bustled into the room. Her face glowed with anticipation.
“Good afternoon, Elly,” Beatrice said cheerfully.
“Hello, Mrs. Kim. Come to pick up your week’s supply of rez-root tisane?”
“Yes, indeed, dear.” Beatrice beamed at her. “Can’t go through the week without my rez-root. And how’s little Rose?”
Rose left off sorting through her box of bracelets and scampered along the top of the counter to greet Beatrice, mumbling happily.
“My, don’t you look lovely today.” Beatrice admired the beads of the bracelet-necklace that peeked through Rose’s tatty fur. “The blue matches your eyes. Definitely your color, sweetie.”
Rose batted her lashes with blatantly false modesty and looked hopeful.
“Gracious, did you think I’d forgotten?” Beatrice removed a clear plastic bag bulging with cookies from the pocket of her coat. She opened it and took out one cookie. “There you go. Peanut butter and chocolate chip. Baked them fresh just last night.”
Rose accepted the snack with a polite air and fell to nibbling daintily but with great efficiency.
“Here’s your rez-root, Mrs. Kim.” Elly put a small white sack on the counter and stepped briskly to the cash register. “That’ll be fifteen dollars, please.”
“Thank you, dear.” Beatrice put the plastic bag full of cookies on the counter and gave Elly a conspiratorial wink. “I made some extra for you and your houseguest.”
“Thank you,” Elly said, determined to be polite. “That was very thoughtful of you.”
Beatrice raised her eyes to the floor above with a politely inquiring expression. “The two of you got home quite late last night. Expect you were out having a wonderful time on the town, hmmm?”
“How do you know that we got home late?”
Beatrice waved one hand in a casual manner. “Saw your lights come on for a few minutes around three in the morning.” She chuckled. “Not your usual bedtime, is it, dear?”
Elly leaned both elbows on the counter. “Were you spying on me, Mrs. Kim?”
“Heavens no.” Beatrice’s eyes widened. “I wasn’t sleeping very well. Got up to fix myself some of your excellent moonseed tonic and couldn’t help but notice the lights over at your place.”
Elly’s jaw tightened. “You and everyone else on the block, apparently.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Elly sighed. “Sorry, Mrs. Kim. The thing is, I’ve had a nonstop stream of people in here today, all from around the neighborhood. Everyone seems to be extremely curious about my houseguest.”
“Well, you can’t blame us, dear.”
Elly raised her brows. “I can’t?”
“With the exception of Griggs, the florist, this is a very friendly neighborhood,” Beatrice reminded her. “We take an interest in each other. By the way, I saw Phillip and Garrick a short time ago, and they told me that they let you borrow their pass to The Road to the Ruins. I’ll bet you and your friend danced the night away.”
“We did dance, yes.”
“How romantic. Phillip mentioned that he thought he saw your friend’s car pull out of the alley earlier this morning. Did he go home?”
“No. He went out to take in some of the local sights.”
“Which ones?”
“I believe he said something about going to the zoo.”
“Oh, I see. Then he’ll be returning soon?”
Elly drummed her fingers on the counter. “Yes, Mrs. Kim.”
“I’ll come back later, in that case.”
“Why?” Elly asked bluntly. “Your rez-root is ready now.”
Beatrice peered into her pocketbook with an air of vague dismay. “I seem to have forgotten my wallet.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll put it on your account, Mrs. Kim.”
“No, no, dear, that’s quite all right. I prefer to pay cash.”
“I wouldn’t want you to make an extra trip.”
“I’m just down the street.” Beatrice smiled benignly and went to the door. “The exercise will do me good.”
She let herself out onto the narrow sidewalk and vanished into the fog.
Elly looked at Rose, who had finished her cookie and was showing a marked interest in the bulging plastic bag that Beatrice had left behind.
“So much for my theory that here in the big city people aren’t interested in their neighbors’ private affairs,” Elly said. “Looks like Mr. Guild Boss was right about folks being entertained by the goings
-on in other peoples’ sex lives.”
Rose made a sympathetic sound and began to fiddle with the little plastic slider that sealed the bag.
Elly tried to shake off the restless anxiety that had been growing steadily within her. She glanced at the clock. “He’s been gone for hours. What do you suppose is keeping him?”
There was a soft whisper of plastic on plastic. Rose had gotten the bag open. Gleefully, she reached inside to pluck out a cookie.
Elly thought about the new quartz-green flower in the vase on the kitchen windowsill.
“Speaking of wild nights and fast living, just where did you go last night, missy?” she whispered.
Rose chomped down on a cookie.
The doorbells chimed again. Elly watched another familiar local, Herschel Lafayette, take one last, nervous look over his shoulder before he ducked inside the shop.
“Afternoon, Elly.”
She groaned. “Not you, too, Herschel.”
“Huh? Huh?” Herschel scuttled toward the counter. “Not me, too, what? What?”
“Are you here to ask about my private life? Because if so, you can turn around and go straight back outside.”
Herschel stopped in front of her, pinched features screwed into an impatient scowl. “Why in green friggin’ hell would I give a fried ghost ass what you did in private?”
A heretofore undiscovered sense of fondness and affection for the little ruin rat rose within Elly. She gave him a warm smile.
“I always knew there was something unique and special about you, Herschel.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m special, all right.” He checked the misty view through the windows again. “Came by to see if you’ve heard from Bertha Newell lately.”
Elly stiffened before she could help herself. Fortunately, Herschel didn’t seem to notice. He was still watching the sidewalk.
“No, I haven’t, now that you mention it,” she said, injecting what she hoped was a suitably unconcerned note into her voice. “Why? Is there a problem?”