“Like I said, it was clumsy work and that was my fault.” Julian shoved his fingers through his hair. “All I can say is that we were desperate to find you and bring you in before some really bad guys got to you first. I knew that you were running scared. I was afraid that if you got wind that anyone associated with Lucan was in the vicinity, you’d disappear again.”
“Good guess,” she said.
“I told the team to do whatever they had to do to bring you in. Figured I could explain everything once I met with you face-to-face. I made it clear you were not to be hurt. But you ditched my men and we lost you again.”
“You set me up, damn it. You were dealing para-weapons out of Department A. You knew Max Lucan was getting suspicious, so you put that incriminating file on my office computer. As if I’d be dumb enough to actually use an office computer to keep a file that could get me fired or sent to prison. You don’t think very highly of me, do you, Julian?”
“You were set up, all right,” Julian said. “But not by me. Caitlin Phillips was the one dealing the para- weapons. She’s the person who installed that file on your computer.”
Isabella felt blindsided. “Caitlin?”
“My administrative assistant, remember?”
“Of course,” Isabella said, struggling to process the new information.
“She resigned and then she disappeared. We think one of her connections in the black market killed her.”
“I don’t understand.”
“After we found the file of para-weapons sales on your computer, Max and I tracked it back to Caitlin. But by then she was gone.”
Isabella frowned. “If you know I’m innocent, why are you looking for me?”
“Because you’re in danger. Listen to me, Isabella. Caitlin did one last deal before she was murdered. She arranged an acquisition for one of her clients, a South American drug lord. But the transaction was never completed because the broker got himself shot.”
“That would be Orville Sloan?” Fallon asked, as if he were only remotely interested in the answer.
Julian frowned. “You know about Sloan?”
“J&J is a detective agency, if you will recall,” Fallon said.
Julian sighed. “Right. Sloan was the broker Caitlin used. It looks like he was killed by a disgruntled client. It was bound to happen, sooner or later, given the nature of the profession. But the problem for us is the timing.”
“I’m assuming that means that the broker was shot after he had arranged for the delivery of the artifact but before he told Caitlin Phillips where the package could be found,” Fallon said.
“Yeah, that’s about it.” Julian turned back to Isabella. “Word of the missing artifact has hit the underworld. A lot of people are looking for it, including the drug lord and a certain black-ops agency. The agency wants that para-weapon found before the drug lord gets it.”
Isabella shrugged. “So?”
Julian cleared his throat. “Due to the rumors that circulated after you took off, a lot of people, including, we believe, the drug lord, think that you might be able to find the weapon.”
“Crap,” Isabella said. “Now I’ve got a drug lord looking for me?”
“Luckily I found you first. We have to recover that para-weapon and get it out of circulation. Once the drug lord realizes the Feds have it, he’ll stop looking for you because you won’t be of any use to him.”
“Nice theory,” Fallon said.
“For Pete’s sake, Julian, I can’t just pull missing stuff out of thin air,” Isabella said. “That’s not how my talent works. I need some kind of trail or a connection. Something.”
“Take it easy,” Julian said. “We know the general whereabouts of the weapon because we had a team following Sloan. But they lost him for a short time. When they picked him up again, they realized he no longer had the artifact. And then he got shot.”
“Where did he leave the weapon?” Isabella asked.
“Turns out the broker had a thing about old movies,” Julian said. “He went on a tour of the Vantara Estate. He had the artifact when he went into the mansion, but it wasn’t on him when he came out. We think he left the weapon inside.”
“You’re talking about the old film star’s house?” Isabella asked. “The mansion near Santa Barbara that’s open to the public for tours?”
“That’s it,” Julian said, grim-faced. “Ever been there?”
“No,” Isabella said.
“The house is an architectural monstrosity on the outside, but it’s even more over-the-top inside,” Julian said. “Dozens and dozens of rooms filled with an incredible amount of art and antiques. Sloan’s intention was to get safely away from the estate before letting Caitlin know exactly where he had hidden the weapon.”
Fallon thought about that. “Not a bad hiding place for a paranormal gun that in all likelihood won’t look anything like a real gun.”
“Tell me about it,” Julian grumbled. “I’ve sent people inside the mansion posing as tourists. I even got one of my hunters hired on as a night guard and had him take a look around. I went in myself twice. The mansion is crammed with antiques. It’s like the basement of a very large museum in there. Talk about a needle in a haystack.”
“Now you need Isabella to help you find the weapon,” Fallon said.
Julian looked at him. “We’re on the same side here, Jones. Arcane doesn’t want a potentially dangerous para-weapon falling into the hands of some drug lord who happens to have a little talent any more than the black- ops people do.”
“Agreed,” Fallon said.
“One way or another, we have to recover that artifact,” Julian said. “It’s the only way to guarantee Isabella’s safety. As long as the drug lord thinks she can find it, she’s in danger.”
Fallon looked at Isabella. “Your call.”
She folded her arms and looked at Fallon. “Do you believe him?”
Fallon opened his senses again. Points of light appeared on the multidimensional grid. Connections sparked and flashed, and the sector in which Julian Garrett moved was starkly illuminated in both light and shadow.
“I think he’s telling you part of the truth,” he said. “And I can call Max Lucan to verify.”
Julian looked at him. “You do that. Max will back me up.”
Fallon took out his phone, ran through a list of contacts and punched in a number.
“Lucan? This is Fallon Jones. Yeah, that Jones. I’m with a woman who used to work with you. Called herself Angela Desmond. Her name is Isabella Valdez now. One of your people is here with us. Julian Garrett.”
Fallon went silent, listening.
“Tell me about Caitlin Phillips,” he said after a while.
More silence.
“All right,” Fallon said eventually. “That’s it for now. No, I don’t know yet if Isabella will agree to look for the weapon. It’s up to her. Hang on, I’ll ask her.” Fallon looked at Isabella. “Lucan confirms the facts that Garrett gave us. He says the black-ops people do want the artifact and so does the drug lord.”
Julian looked at Isabella. “Satisfied? Do we have a deal?”
“I’ll look for the para-weapon at the Vantara Estate,” she said. “But no guarantees.”
“Understood,” Julian said. “Thanks.”
She narrowed her eyes. “But I’m with J&J now. If you want to hire me, you have to pay our fees. We charge for this sort of work, you know. We’re running a business here, not a philanthropic society.”
Julian did not argue. “Name your price.”
“Oh, we will,” Isabella said.
Fallon spoke into the phone. “We’ll take the case, Lucan.”
He closed the phone.
Julian cleared his throat and smiled at Isabella. “So, uh, I’ve never actually watched you work. Do you need to examine something that belonged to the broker to pick up the scent or whatever it is you do?”
