Page 14

It was a short walk to a nearby park. Leona took the opportunity to analyze the mix of emotions that had burned in Oliver’s eyes when she asked him about his talent and the annulment. It was obvious that he had some issues with his unusual paranormal profile. It had apparently affected his life in significant ways.

She understood. She had a few problems in that department herself. But she could not afford to let sympathy weaken her resolve. She was a woman on a mission.

They found a picnic table and sat down across from each other. She set the restaurant box containing the leftovers from the tea tray on the table and opened it. After a moment’s consideration, Roxy chose the last lemon bar, chortled, and bustled off to explore the nearby water feature, a large pond.

Oliver used both hands to remove his black-framed glasses with a cool, deliberate motion. He dropped them into his shirt pocket and replaced them with a pair of sunglasses.

He angled his head in Roxy’s direction. “Think the dust bunny will stick around?”

Maybe changing the subject was his way of trying to de-escalate the tension between them, Leona thought. If so, he got a couple of bonus points. She could de-escalate, too.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I hope so.”

She heard some excited chortling and looked at the big pond. Roxy was perched on the rim. She was not alone. Two children, a boy and a girl who appeared to be about eight or nine years old, were in the process of placing a remote-controlled miniature boat in the water.

Leona suppressed an uneasy ping. It was just two kids, a dust bunny, and a toy boat. What could possibly go wrong?

She turned back to the restaurant box and chose one of the few remaining sandwiches.

Oliver helped himself to the last scone. “Roxy makes a handy little partner in crime.”

“If that was meant to be amusing, it landed badly.”

“That happens a lot with my jokes,” he admitted.

She could no longer get a read on his eyes because of the dark glasses, but she was very aware of his energy field. The effect on her senses was as strong as it had been last night. That was both unsettling and intriguing. It stirred things inside her that had not been stirred in previous encounters with the male of the species.

Late last night as she lay awake in bed, she had told herself that her reaction to Oliver was due to the ambient energy in the atmosphere, first in the artifact-filled gallery and later in the psi-flooded tunnels. Everyone got a little buzz in the Underworld. Then, too, there was all that adrenaline pumping through her bloodstream. It made for a potent bio-cocktail.

But now they were outdoors in a public park, not in the tunnels, and no one was chasing them. Nevertheless, the frissons of deep awareness—of recognition —were as strong as they had been during the night.

Focus, woman. Your life is a hot mess at the moment. You can’t afford to get distracted.

“We’re here to exchange information,” she said, determined to take charge of the conversation. “You go first. Tell me about the yellow crystal.”

He munched, swallowed, and evidently made a decision.

“The most important data I have on that pyramid is what I learned last night,” he said.

“What is that?”

“It’s hot, it’s tuned, and you can resonate with it.”

She paused in mid-chew. “Sounds like I might be useful to you.”

“Oh, yeah.”

She thought about that while she swallowed the last of the sandwich.

“Look, I’m a professional para-archaeologist,” she said. “My ability to resonate with certain crystals is a side effect of my core talent. I can’t tune them like my sister does, but I can usually sense the energy locked inside.”

“And unlock it?”

“Sometimes,” she said smoothly. “I happen to have a crystal that appears to be the same kind of stone as the pyramid, so yes, I want to know more about both.”

“Here’s what I think. You know more than you’re letting on. I assume you’re not going to tell me that it was just an amazing coincidence the pyramid crystal turned up in Pandora’s box on the very night you were scheduled to not only authenticate the box but open it for the Society?”

She flushed, Molly’s words ringing in her ears. What are the odds that a rare stone like the one you and I wear just happened to turn up in one of the artifacts that you were supposed to authenticate at the reception?

“No, I don’t think it was a coincidence,” she said. “But I swear I have no idea what was going on last night, and neither does anyone else in my family.”

That was nothing less than the truth.

He nodded, reluctantly accepting her denial. “Okay.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I realize you don’t trust me. The feeling is mutual.”

“Because I’m an illusion talent? I get it. A lot of people have a problem with my kind of psychic vibe. They figure we’re all con artists, magicians, or crooks.”

“No,” she shot back, annoyed. “My lack of trust has nothing to do with your talent. I’m being cautious because it’s clear you’re trying to tell me as little as possible about the pyramid. You’re keeping secrets.”

His mouth became a hard line. “What would you say if I told you it was for your own good?”

She rezzed up a cold smile. “I would say that’s ghost shit.”

“Figured you would.” He folded his arms on the table. “I’m telling you the truth. Pandora’s box belongs to the Rancourt Museum. It disappeared a few days ago. I contacted one of my connections in the artifact gray market.”

“I’m not surprised to hear you dabble in that market.”

“Name me a museum that doesn’t.”

She winced. “Fair point.”

“I picked up the rumor that the box was going to be submitted by an anonymous collector who was applying for membership in the Antiquarian Society. I knew the FBPI had a task force investigating the Society and that it was getting ready to conduct a raid. I offered to assist the Bureau in a coordinated action. I knew the box would be one of the objects on that stage. I was as surprised as you were when it turned out the pyramid was inside.”

She raised her chin. “Now you’re telling me that it really was all a coincidence?”

“No,” he said, “I don’t think it was a coincidence, but like you, I don’t know what is going on.”

“Sounds like we both have questions and we both want answers,” she said.

“Yes, it does. You said your sister found the crystals when she was a kid?”

“That’s right.”

“Tell me more about that.”

She had known he would want details, so she had prepped for the question on the way to the café. She had a version of the truth ready to go.

“Molly and I were left on the doorstep of an orphanage. That’s where we spent the first six and a half years of our lives. Then one day, when we were playing in the garden, Molly was grabbed by a deranged man named Nigel Willard. He was a chemist who evidently wanted to run some bizarre experiments on my sister. He took her down into the tunnels, where he had a lab. Thankfully Charlotte and Eugenie Griffin were able to rescue her before he could hurt her. While she was held prisoner, she saw some yellow crystals on a table and took two of them.”

“Why?”

“She was just a little kid.” Leona shrugged. “She was attracted to them. We didn’t know it then, but she was a budding crystal talent.”

“Are you and Molly biological sisters?”

“No, but we are sisters in every way that counts.” She fixed him with her chilliest glare, daring him to deny the bond. “And we are the daughters of Eugenie and Charlotte Griffin.”

“I understand,” he said.

Maybe he did, she thought. Orphans and children born outside of marriage were protected by the law. They were cared for and usually adopted at some point. But their lack of close blood relatives and a respectable family tree inevitably affected their status in society—in subtle ways when it came to careers and social connections, and in not-so-subtle ways when it came to marriage.

“Can I ask how you and your sister wound up in an orphanage?” he said.

“The usual way,” she said, once again prepared to skate on the surface of the facts. “We were abandoned as infants. We found out later that our birth mothers died soon after they left us at the Inskip School. There is no record that either of them was married and no next of kin. No one was able to identify our fathers.”

His jaw tightened. “Tough road.”

“Molly and I got lucky.”

“Because the Griffins adopted you?”

“Yes. My turn. Why are you obsessed with the yellow crystal?”

“I am not obsessed with it.”

“I disagree, but that’s not important. Tell me more about it.”

He gave the question a moment’s thought and then he evidently made yet another decision.

“Ever heard of a Vortex machine?” he asked.