with the artifact?”
“Not a chance,” Davis said. “By the way, under the circumstances, you can forget about taking a cab to the restaurant. Something tells me you might not show up.”
“Oh, good grief, if I say I’ll be there, I’ll be there.”
“I’ll pick you up.”
“You don’t have my address.”
“Not a problem. I’m a private investigator, remember? I find things. You’d better believe I’ll find you.”
Chapter 3
SHE MUST HAVE SENSED THE ENERGY THAT HAD PULSED between them. He couldn’t have been the only one who had felt that high-rez stuff ricocheting back and forth back there in her office. Or was he?
Davis got out of the parking garage elevator and made his way through the rows of cars to where he had left the Phantom. He was still half-aroused.
Max was waiting for him when he reached the car. The dust bunny was napping on the passenger seat in his favorite position, flat on his back, all six paws up in the air. When Davis opened the door, he stretched, opened his blue eyes, rolled over, and made little chortling sounds.
“Hey, there, buddy.”
They did the brief greeting ritual, which consisted of him patting Max on the top of his furry head and Max bouncing up and down a little.
“I should have taken you in there with me,” Davis said. “You might have saved the day. Takes a dust bunny to catch a dust bunny, I always say. As it is, we’ve got a whole lot of new problems.”
He set the briefcase on the floor on the passenger side. Max hopped up onto the back of the seat where he had an excellent view. Max liked riding in cars.
Instead of rezzing the engine, Davis sat for a moment, hands resting on the wheel, trying to suppress the unfamiliar sense of anticipation and hungry excitement that was flooding his veins.
“Damn near knocked me off my feet, Max. Felt about nineteen again. And it’s not like she could ever get hired to read the evening news on the rez-screen. I mean, she’s attractive, okay? But not in the usual way. She’s, I dunno, different.”
Max made understanding noises.
Different. That was it, he thought. She wasn’t perfect. In his experience, perfect was pleasant to look at, but it was never interesting for long. Perfection never made you curious. It never raised any questions. Everything was on the surface with perfect. You knew in your gut that, in the end, perfect was going to be boring long-term.
No, Celinda Ingram was not perfect. What she was, he thought, was fascinating. Fascinating always carried some risk.
He looked through the windshield at the Slider parked nose to nose with the Phantom and summoned up a mental image of the mysterious woman in the office four floors above him.
Hair the color of rich, dark amber, caught up in a severe knot at the back of her head, a couple of wisps dangling down in front of her delicate little ears. Big, hazel green eyes, soft mouth, assertive nose and chin. There was an elegance and dignity about her. He liked that in a woman, liked to know that she thought enough of herself to carry herself like a queen.
He had also sensed a whisper of power. She had worn an amber bracelet on her left wrist. Could have been a fashion statement, he thought, but it could have been something more. Everyone could generate a little psi energy, but powerful para-rez talents like himself often carried tuned amber in some form to help them concentrate and focus that energy.
Whatever else he had been expecting when he and Martinez tracked down Celinda Ingram, it had not been the deep rush of sexual excitement that had made him long to throw her over his shoulder and take off into the rain forest.
How the hell could she be a matchmaker? He didn’t trust any of them, not after the fiasco of his engagement to Janet.
But what the hell, he wasn’t looking for long-term. He could overlook the matchmaking thing. He wondered why she wasn’t married. And then he thanked his lucky amber that she wasn’t.
“If nothing else, it’s going to be a really interesting evening, Max.”
The thought cheered him. He hadn’t had a really interesting evening in longer than he cared to recall. Ever since the fiasco of his close encounter with a Covenant Marriage, he had devoted himself to his business. Life was simpler that way. At least it had been until today.
He rezzed the Phantom’s engine. Beneath the gleaming hood, flash-rock melted. He backed out of the parking slot and drove out of the garage, heading toward his office in the Old Quarter.
A short time later, Max on his shoulder, he pushed open the door of the offices of Oakes Security.
Trig McAndrews, seated behind the reception desk, looked up from his computer. His bald, shaved head gleamed in the overhead lights. So did the gold ring in his ear.
Trig was built like one of the Colonial-era buildings in the Quarter: not too tall but solid as a brick right down to the foundation. He looked as if he moonlighted as a pro wrestler. The elaborate tattoos enhanced that impression.
“Any luck, boss?” Each word sounded like it had been dragged through crushed gravel.
“Yes and no.”
“I hate answers like that.”
“Me, too.”
Max hopped down off Davis’s shoulder, landed on the desk, and greeted Trig with a small chortle.
“How’s it hangin’, big guy?” Trig patted Max on the top of his head and then looked up at Davis. “So, what happened?”
“The person of interest Martinez and I interviewed had the relic in her possession,” Davis said. “She was apparently willing to turn it over to me. But, in what may strike you as an amazing coincidence, her dust bunny ran off with it just as I was about to take possession. Bunny and relic disappeared.”
Trig’s expression did not change. “A dust bunny ran off with our client’s artifact?” Each word was very carefully spaced.
“Miss Ingram says the bunny thinks the relic is a toy, which means that the little sucker will bring it home soon. Dust bunnies don’t like to be parted from their toys for very long.”
“Gonna be a little hard to explain this chain of events to Mercer Wyatt,” Trig observed.
“I don’t plan to tell Wyatt what happened. Not as long as there’s a chance of getting that relic back. Keep the client in the dark whenever possible is the company motto. You know that.”
“What do I say if Wyatt’s assistant calls again for an update?”
“The usual. Tell him that we’re making progress.”
Trig nodded. There was no need for him to say anything more. They both knew how important recovering the relic was to the future of Oakes Security. It was the first big case the firm had landed since Davis’s world had gone to green hell six months ago. A lot of old clients had been unwilling to take a chance on him after the disaster. He was well aware that if he screwed up, it was a good bet they’d never see any more business from the Guild or any other high-profile corporation.
Trig snorted. “Sounds like you’d better keep an eye on the matchmaker. If she didn’t know the relic was worth a lot to the Guild before she talked to you, she’ll know it now.”
“Don’t worry, I’m going to put her under close surveillance tonight.”
“Stakeout?”
“Dinner date.”
Trig’s heavy black brows bounced up and down a few times. “You’re dating someone who is involved in the case? You never do that. Thought it was one of your rules.”
“Comes under the heading of undercover work. Any messages?”
“Cooper Boone called while you were out. He wants you to call him back when you get a chance.”
