his belt. I sent another text.
David’s frown deepened and this time he reached down and unclipped his phone. His frown turned to one of puzzlement as he read my incoherent messages.
I sent another text.
David stood and moved away from the table.
“Keep him on camera,” I snapped at Ollie. He fiddled with the console, switching to a different camera on a different computer. The angle wasn’t great, but I could see David moving to the two kneeling men. Palendar had a large piece of glass in his hand. I saw Qwendar reach out and close his hand over the other Alfar’s and begin to squeeze. Then David was between them. Qwendar was forced to drop Palendar’s hand. A brief flash of anger skittered across his face, then the smooth facade was back.
And at that moment there were duel cries of triumph from the bicoastal tech gurus. “Got her! She’s connected now.”
Qwendar glanced at the computer screen and reacted when he saw me. An emotion I couldn’t identify twisted his face, then he moved quickly away from the detritus of broken glass.
My phone chimed. I had a text from David.
I threw myself back into my chair. Qwendar thought that because they couldn’t see me, I couldn’t see them. Thank God most of the Powers are clueless about technology.
But I was left with a bigger problem. What was I going to do? I had no proof. All I had was suspicion based on a conversation with a girl at a Japanese restaurant. But what if Qwendar and Jondin had contact? My God, he had been on the Warner lot that day. I had seen him in the restaurant having lunch with Diggins. My chest felt too small to hold air, and the half-muffaletta lay in my stomach like a stone.
I stood. “Mr. Sullivan, everyone. I’m sorry, but I’m suddenly not feeling well. If you’ll excuse me.” I fled from the conference room.
In the bathroom I splashed water on my face, not worrying about the effect on my makeup. I scraped back my hair and met my own gaze in the mirror. I wanted to run to the airport, and grab any flight heading west. But if I did that it would it tip off Qwendar that I was on to him. Had I already tipped him off with my precipitous flight from the conference? I needed to go back and sit through the morning’s testimony. The time difference between LA and New York had already dictated that it would be a half-day session.
Now I just needed to get an earlier flight instead of the red-eye back to Los Angeles.
And make sure Palendar stayed away from Qwendar. Wasn’t sure how I was going to do that.
And convince David I wasn’t crazy. That should be fun.
I composed my features and returned to the conference room to listen to testimony while trying not to look at Qwendar the entire time. Turned out that was the hardest thing I did all day.
Testimony ended at three thirty New York time. Norma had actually leaped into action and changed my ticket for a flight out of LaGuardia at 6:10 p.m. It was going to be tight, but I could make it if the traffic gods were kind. Everything with Norma was fraught, and this time was no exception. She made it very clear that it had been a huge hassle and had cost the firm an additional four hundred dollars, but I was going to arrive in Los Angeles at midnight instead of early tomorrow morning. I was throwing papers into my briefcase when Norma loomed in the door.
“Mr. Bryce is here.”
“What? Now? Why? Does he have an appointment? Of course not.”
“Would you like me to answer any of those questions, or are you going to keep on talking to yourself?”
“Sorry. Look, tell him I can’t see him right now. I’ve got a plane to catch.”
“So, let me drive you,” came a cultured British accent from the doorway. Jolyon Bryce, midforties with silver-touched brown hair, rolled his wheelchair the rest of the way into my office. He gave me a sweet smile that made his rather plain face handsome and lit up his blue eyes.
“Are you here in the capacity of client or as Vento’s daddy?” I asked, returning his smile.
“Vento’s daddy.” Then he added gently, “And as a friend who wanted to see if you were all right after all your adventures in Hollywood.” I hesitated. “Come on, Linnie, I’m cheaper than a cab and probably more comfortable, and I drive very fast.”
Norma gave a sniff. “Well, that’d convince me to take a cab. Why do they let cripples drive anyway?” She left. In an agony of embarrassment I looked over at Jolly, who burst out laughing.
“Your assistant is an original.”
“I guess that’s one way to put it. Okay, you can drive me to the airport.” I grabbed my overnight case, my rolling briefcase-computer bag, and my purse and followed him out of the office.
Jolly’s car was parked just down the street in a handicapped space. It was a zippy little silver turbo-charged BMW sedan. “We’ll put your luggage in the backseat. My chair has to go in the trunk,” he explained as he hit the key to unlock the car. “Would you mind putting my chair away for me? Then we don’t have to bother one of these nice doormen.”
“Of course.” As I watched, he deftly levered himself out of the chair and into the driver’s seat. I folded up the wheelchair and put it in the trunk, then piled my crap into the backseat and slid into the passenger side.
I studied the hand controls that replaced the gas and brake pedal in the car as we pulled smoothly out into traffic. “So, tell me, how is my boy?” Jolly asked.
“Doing great. Lauren is a terrific trainer and teacher. I generally ride either early in the morning or at night.”
“Not too cold, is it?”
“It’s California. They think it’s cold, but they’re all pussies.” We shared another smile. Then we talked dressage and Vento.
Jolly was as good as his word. The car seemed to dance through traffic, and before I knew it we were into the residential neighborhood that surrounded LaGuardia. He pulled up to the departure area. As I pulled out my luggage I said, “Thank you for not bringing up the thing at Warner Bros. It’s nice not to always be treated as a curiosity.”
“You have had some extraordinary experiences, my dear,” he said.
“Just lucky, I guess.” I smiled and was surprised when there was no answering smile.
“Be careful.” Then he added an odd tag, “Be thoughtful.”
“Thank you for the ride. I’ll keep you posted on Vento, and when we’re likely to get home. Soon, I hope,” I said.
He waved and pulled away, leaving me on the sidewalk outside the American Airlines desk. It wasn’t until his taillights were lost in all the other traffic that it suddenly hit me. How had he known I was even in New York?
20
I was still on my cell phone arguing with David as the line went shuffling past the airline employee who was scanning our tickets.
“Yes, of course it’s a theory, but it makes sense given what Parlan told me about the use of blood in Alfar magic.”
“And he may just be a very old man who is not too steady on his pins,” David countered. “And what’s the rest of your theory? He knocks into people and things so something gets broken, and then what?”
“It looked like he was about to squeeze Palendar’s hand so the piece of glass would cut him.”
“Okay, so. If blood is the key, how does that help? Presumably he has to take the blood away to do his evil spell.”
